A prayer for the longest night

Loving God of the dawn and the sunset,

            we come before you this day,

            when night is longest and day is shortest,

to offer our prayers

            for those whose experience of life

            is more of darkness than it is of light.

We stand with those who live under a long shadow,

            and we join ourselves to those who struggle to see daylight.

And as we pray for others,

            we recognise that we too carry in our souls the burden of darkness.

We know that it can be true for us, as it is for others,

            that the days of brightness imperceptibly shorten

            while the nights of obscurity inexorably lengthen.

And so we pray for those who are bereaved,

            for those who have lost loved ones this year.

We feel within us the shapes of those who have gone from us,

            and we mourn their passing from our lives.

In quiet hope offered in the face of despair,

            we offer to your loving embrace all those whom we can no longer touch.

And we ask that you will give comfort

            where long nights of mourning seem never to come to an end.

Loving God of the dawn and the sunset,

            may darkness not overwhelm us.

We pray for those who are lonely

            for those who long for touch, for conversation, for friendship, for intimacy.

And we recognise in ourselves the desperate drive for companionship

            that haunts our relationships and stifles our friendships.

We ask that you will draw near to those who draw away,

            and that you will hold all who are alone in your loving embrace.

Loving God of the dawn and the sunset,

            may darkness not overwhelm us.

We pray for those who are far from home

            for those who have lost country and security

            through war, famine, or the effects of climate change.

We pray for refugees, asylum seekers, economic migrants,

            and all who greet the new day

            in a country that they do not recognise as home.

May they know that you are the God of the exiles and enslaved

            and that your welcome knows no boundaries.

Loving God of the dawn and the sunset,

            may darkness not overwhelm us.

We pray for those who are lost in memories,

            for those who are trapped in the past

            and unable to engage the present.

We pray also for those whose memories have faded,

            and whose experience of dementia has diminished their capacity to live the day.

For all those who dream of the past,

            we ask for healing of past hurts.

And we offer all that we are

            to your eternal remembering.

Loving God of the dawn and the sunset,

            may darkness not overwhelm us.

We pray for all that is broken in life,

            for people, for relationships, for bodies, for objects.

And in the face of brokenness

            we pray for healing and wholeness.

May that which is broken find its completeness in you,

            as you bring all things to good

            and redeem all that is damaged.

Loving God of the dawn and the sunset,

            may darkness not overwhelm us.

And finally we pray into the darkness,

            and we offer the hope of our voices and our hearts

            that however long the night may be, there is a new day dawning.

And we know that as the days have shortened to get us to this place,

            so they will lengthen again to take us somewhere new.

Loving God of the dawn and the sunset,

            may darkness not overwhelm us.

Amen.