Enlighten the eyes of our understanding and raise up our minds from the heavy sleep of indolence.

If Saint Basil had left off the last two words, it would be a simple request: wake me from sleep, body and mind. But he added “of indolence,” making it a whole different kind of request. It isn’t my nightly sleep that I need to leave behind, it’s the spiritual laziness that darkens my thoughts and makes me blind to the sacred life God has given me. It’s Pink Floyd’s comfortably numb existence: going through the motions, playing the game, climbing the ladder, taking meds or that second and third drink. I can live my life awake and aware on the outside all the while asleep to my true, deep self.

Leaving the heavy sleep of indolence behind has its price. Awake, I see this beautiful, broken world. I can’t reduce others to bit players in my life’s drama, props to move my story along and support my starring role. I am awake to the terrible holiness of every person, and my own part in their life’s play in God’s good creation. Life isn’t about me when I’m awake; I am about Life.

If I pray these words, God will answer my prayer. Do I want to be awake? I do, with God’s help.

For the complete prayer, click Prayer of Saint Basil above.

You grant us sleep for rest from our infirmities, and repose from the burdens of our much toiling flesh.

Many babies have a fussy hour every evening. Being rocked or walked helps sometimes, but sometimes it doesn’t. There’s nothing to do but wait for it to pass into peaceful sleep.

As we age, our feet hurt and our joints stiffen toward dusk. Getting dinner ready and putting in that last load of laundry take more effort than breakfast prep and the first load did. If we listen to our bodies, we put off whatever work we can until morning. When we don’t, we get short with children and spouses – our self-inflicted fussy hour. With life wisdom, we do our best to stop fretting as we get closer to bedtime. Without it, we bring our fretful frustration to bed with us.

Restful sleep is the letting go of the day, handing over the good and bad to God (or an oblivion, unconscious, or collective dreamscape if God isn’t acceptable). Problems get reworked and resolved if necessary, and dreams enrich the passing of the night hours. This recharging of body, mind, and soul seems to be done without effort. How wonderful that a biological necessity grants passage to an enchanted world.

Anxious sleep lets go of all the good in the day, but keeps a choke hold on mistakes and disappointments – masochistic treasures of our much toiling minds. Sleep may come with pharmaceutical or alcoholic help, but passing out isn’t the same as rest, and a drug induced stupor drains mind and soul instead of refreshing them.

There’s wisdom in physical labor that brings relief to its own exhaustion in sound sleep.
There’s wisdom in the hard work of spiritual and emotional growth that allows us to skip or leave behind our adult fussy hour. Such physical and spiritual labor doesn’t get much respect or positive press these days. How is it that something so fundamental is disregarded, even discouraged?

Bless You!

We bless you, O God, most high and Lord of mercy.

When my niece Jill was a few months old, well before she could walk or talk, she used to do something that I’ve never forgotten. When I held her on my shoulder, she would reach her hand up to pat me on the back. The kindness in her simple act of extending a comforting hand moved me to tears many times – giving back a loving touch she received so often from me and many others. It’s a blessed memory I’ve treasured for almost thirty years.

I’ve never blessed God before. I’ve always been on the receiving end. After all, what good could my blessing do? But I think I’ll say these words, anyway. If God is as touched as I was by Jill’s gesture, it would be a blessing indeed.

To read the whole prayer, click on Prayer of Saint Basil.