I’ve just had one of those difficult nights.
It’s the kind where I keep waking up, tossing and turning. I try to relax, but the harder I try, the harder it is to fall asleep again.
Lingering items on the “to-do list” spring to life and wander the murky terrain of my mind. Regrets emerge from the shadows like Jacob Marley dragging his chains. All the while I’m well aware that most of the things plaguing me at that hour are completely ridiculous and wouldn’t hold up in the light of day. And before I know it I’m caught in a spiral of self-judgment as my inner critic scolds me for worrying about these things at the time when I’m least able to do anything about them.
Over the years I’ve had to learn to replace disturbing thoughts with something else. Once I come to my senses, I repeat this staple of night prayer liturgies that I memorized long ago:
“Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love’s sake. Amen”
If I stick with it, the prayer becomes a mantra, and I eventually fall asleep again.
One of the things I love about this prayer is that it helps me gain perspective and feel grounded and connected again. Sometimes, before I get to the mantra point, people come to mind who fit many of the circumstances named in the prayer.
My absolute favorite phrase in the prayer is “shield the joyous.” Most of us have been taught to pray primarily for people in need. But in the midst of those intercessions, there’s a prayer specifically for the joyous – and it’s a prayer for shielding!
Repeating those words gives me a sense that joy is tender and perhaps even fragile. And it needs, and deserves, to be protected, even as it exists alongside our difficulties and trials.
This is the time of year when we get all sorts of messages about how we’re supposed to feel warm and happy and jolly – and joyous. But suffering and grief don’t cease just because the calendar says they should.
Sometimes we feel overwhelmed and consumed by our difficulties. That’s understandable.
At the same time, even in the midst of the most challenging times, there are little moments of joy; those gifts that, unbidden, simply appear when we least expect them. And when they do, this prayer urges us to pay attention and hold on to them. To shield our joy and ask for protection for our vulnerable hearts.
This Sunday is the third Sunday of Advent, the season of waiting and preparing for divine Light to come into the darkest time of the year. It’s the Sunday we light the candle of joy – the sweet pink candle that lightens the ring of the more heavily pigmented purple candles. That candle reminds us that even in these shortest, coldest days we can expect moments of delight. While we can’t summon them, we can notice when they come, savor, and protect them.