God is so good.

Really, no matter how I try to write anything in this post, it’s ultimately going to come out as that.

I think I said something to this affect last time I wrote on here, but I simply adore nothing more than sitting on my bed in my dorm room here at Taylor University, listening to Radiohead, and looking out onto the chilly, overcast evening.  What is it exactly that bring me such satisfaction in doing so?  I’m not exactly sure–it could be a number of things.  But it is most likely because of the despair and discouragement that I was deeply feeling at this point last year.

Really, any time I sit here on my bed, and look out onto a gray fall sky, I just think of the tears that fell with the rain.

And I remember how good God is.  God would have been good had he delivered me from that sad state or not, but because he did, I’m sure that that is what most glorifies him–and oh I will sing his praises, how I will sing his praises.

In short, mainly because I don’t feel like writing any more than I have to lately, I would just like to share a Puritan prayer I have been thinking a lot about lately.


Blessed Creator,

Thou hast promised thy beloved sleep;

Give me restoring rest needful for

tomorrow’s toil;

If dreams be mine,

let them not be tinged with evil.

Let thy Spirit make my time of repose

a blessed temple of his holy presence.

May my frequent lying down make me familiar

with death,

the bed I approach remind me of the grave,

they eyes I now close picture to me their

final closing.

Keep me always ready, waiting for admittance

to thy presence.

Weaken my attachment to earthly things.

May I hold life loosely in my hand,

knowing that I receive it on condition of its surrender;

As pain and suffering betoken transitory health,

may I not shrink from a death that introduces me

to the freshness of eternal youth.

I retire this night in full assurance of one day

awaking with thee.

All glory for this precious hope,

for the gospel of grace,

for thine unspeakable gift of Jesus,

for the fellowship of the Trinity.

Withhold not thy mercies in the night season;

thy hand never wearies,

thy power needs no repose,

thine eye never sleeps.

Help me when I helpless lie,

when my conscience accuses me of sin,

when my mind is harassed by foreboding


when my eyes are held awake by personal


Show thyself to me as the God of all grace,

love and power;

thou hast a balm for every wound,

a solace for all anguish,

a remedy for every pain,

a peace for all disquietude.

Permit me to commit myself to thee

awake or asleep.

That’s all.

Just think about that.