The nightly vigil

Lord, let me know my end,

And what is the measure of my days. Psalm 39:4

 

Read Matthew 25:6—13

I can keep my vigil of prayer this night in at least two ways. One is to be quite perfunctory. I can do it and be done with it. If I put my head on the pillow with no thanks to the Lord, no love for him, no calling upon him and no pleasure in him, what value is it that I know him? I would then have to admit that I have been living as though I did not belong to him. The other way is that this time can keep me awake. Not that I will not sleep afterwards, but awake to the Lord’s promise of himself, alert to his nature as the coming one. He is the bridegroom. He is why I am. I am only among the expectant bridesmaids because he is the groom. He makes sense of the need for this prayer time, and of my calling to be, and of the fact that I am at all. Within his calling on my life he includes what I am to do with it. Only remember this, know this truly, and I will want to welcome him.

 

Lord, you are the Lord of all time, the story that is the conclusion of my story and of every human story, the end goal of all creation, the judge and Saviour of the living and the dead. I cannot come to the end of my life without meeting you. I cannot find the purpose of my life without knowing you. Let me not forget. Let me not resign myself to this reluctantly. Let me not avoid you. Let me eagerly, this night, daily, look and long for you that when you come I may be ready.