Into Your Arms Tonight

Lord Jesus, I am tired. Not just physically tired — though my body aches for rest — but tired in my soul. The day was long, the burdens were heavy, and I come to You tonight empty-handed, with nothing left to give.

"Come to me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest." — Matthew 11:28

I come, Lord. Just as I am. No pretense, no performance. I do not come with eloquent words tonight. I come with a sigh, a whisper, and the last embers of a day spent.

TAKE THE WEIGHT:

Whatever I carried today that was not mine to carry — I lay it down now. The worries I held for others. The problems I cannot solve. The expectations I could not meet. The guilt from what I did wrong and the regret for what I left undone. I lay it all at Your feet.

HOLD ME CLOSE:

Tonight, Lord, I do not need theology. I need a Father. I need to know that Someone stronger than me is watching over me while I sleep. That the God who flung stars into space also counts the hairs on my head and knows exactly how tired I am right now.

RESTORE ME:

As I sleep, repair what this day has broken. Restore my energy, my hope, my perspective. Let me wake tomorrow with fresh eyes and a renewed spirit. Let the mercies that are new every morning wash away the residue of today's struggles.

I picture Your arms around me now, Lord — strong, warm, steady. The arms that held children on Your lap. The arms that were stretched out on the Cross for me. In those arms, I am safe. In those arms, I can let go. In those arms, I can sleep.

Goodnight, Lord. I love You. Amen.