The Leg Cramp Prayer

 Rain patters on the awnings. At almost midnight, few sounds compete against its gentle tattoo— an occasional rumble of thunder and a rare car spraying puddle water from its tires. And my favorite: a mellow chime carried on the wings of a cool breeze that wafts through the open window. 

I had retired at a decent hour, lying next to Stan, chatting and laughing. But then, as he drifted off to sleep, insomnia and restless legs drove me from the bed. A shower might help. And putting away dinner dishes. And trying a new furniture polish. And reading.

But then the rain began, the baptism of the earth. 

I confess, part of me wondered if we’d ever have enough dry weather at an unbooked hour of the calendar to tame the jungle growing around the house. 

But mostly, I sat down just to let the percussive rain and the cool breeze massage away the day. The world frets about a million things, mostly the wrong things. But I can lie on my couch, wrapped in its drapery, and know beyond the shadow of a doubt that God still controls the universe, hears prayers, and works miracles; that his Son voluntarily suffered a human death to flesh despite his eternal sovereignty; that he conquered death, walked and talked and ate with friends again; that he has offered me power over death in this life by giving me keys to His eternal home: grace and his Holy Spirit, a life changing power to become more and more like Him. 

And that means one thing: loving Him better by loving people better. 

Tonight, Lord, I will sleep, but tomorrow let my kindnesses fall like rain; let my patience chime gently with reverbations of joy borne on a current of hope that has overcome this world and its troubles. Let me bless others and bless You. 

Amen.