Night Prayers


Years before the monastery, or even before being able to legally drink, it was during one Christmas season I heard of monks and nuns who rose at midnight to pray while the world slept. Now it has been years since I've left the Catholic monastery and a little while since I've left the Catholic church. I am twenty-six years old. Who could guess so much would happen in so short a time? With the Book of Common Prayer in one hand I still light the candles, burn the incense, and pray at midnight.

With words I pray the Book of Psalms, the Our Father, sing the first hymn of the day, read the passage from the Gospels. In a place beyong words my heart yearns reflecting on the people I left behind... the old psalm, I was for peace, but they only for fighting... And some of the people I am coming to know now. I meet so many new people every day. Many of them bitter old Catholics in new clothing. Bitterness is never the way. They are still for fighting. So many people clinging to their little pictures of how things are, hands raised against each other. They are in my heart as well. And you who are reading, and my friends. One is looking for work. One is new to me and different every time I see him. Both are learning the difficult work of being who they are. They are in the prayers, in the incense. As are the things I have done and the things I have left undone and the things I cannot seem to finish, the hands I cannot force, my needs, my wants, my worries. Julian of Norwich's words are as well, All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well....