When you lie down with a short prayer, commit yourself into the
When you lie down with a short prayer, commit yourself into the hands of your Creator; and when you have done so, trust Him with yourself, as you must do when you are dying.
Hear the solemn words of Jeremy Taylor, the great divine of the seventeenth century: “When you lie down with a short prayer, commit yourself into the hands of your Creator; and when you have done so, trust Him with yourself, as you must do when you are dying.” In this teaching lies the secret of daily surrender, the union of the common with the eternal. For Taylor, who lived amidst plague, civil war, and uncertainty, knew that each night’s sleep is but a little rehearsal of death, and each rising is a resurrection granted by grace. Thus he urges us to weave faith into the smallest rhythms of life, that we may be prepared for the final hour.
The meaning is both simple and profound: life itself is uncertain, fragile, a breath carried on the wind. To go to sleep is to place ourselves in a state of vulnerability, powerless, unconscious, unable to defend ourselves. It is a moment that demands trust—trust not in the strength of our own hands, but in the providence of the Creator who watches when we cannot. Just as in the hour of death, when all earthly anchors are loosed, we must surrender our souls, so too in the hour of rest we may practice this surrender daily, learning to yield ourselves into the care of the Almighty.
This wisdom springs not only from theology but from the reality of Jeremy Taylor’s time. He ministered during the Great Plague, when thousands perished in the night, and families were torn apart without warning. In those days, men and women learned that each evening could be their last, and thus prayer was not a formality, but a shield of hope. His words were not meant to inspire fear, but to prepare the faithful: to show that the soul at peace with God in life will not tremble in the shadow of death.
History offers us vivid examples of this truth. Think of the soldiers at Gettysburg, many of whom wrote letters and said their last prayers before lying down to sleep on the eve of battle. They did not know whether they would awaken to the dawn of life or to eternity. And yet, in committing themselves to God, they found courage. When morning came, some rose to fight and endure, while others rose no more. But in both, their trust was not wasted, for they had already placed themselves into the keeping of the One who governs both life and death.
The emotional depth of Taylor’s words lies in their invitation to live without fear. If you can entrust yourself to God in the small death of nightly sleep, you can learn to entrust yourself in the great death of life’s end. Each day becomes a school of faith, each night a lesson in surrender. It is not morbid, but liberating, to live in this rhythm, for it teaches the soul to walk lightly, unburdened by fear, anchored not in the fragile present but in the eternal embrace of its Maker.
The lesson for us, dear listener, is clear: cultivate the habit of daily surrender. Before you close your eyes, pause for a moment. Offer a short prayer, simple yet sincere: words of gratitude, confession, or hope. Release your anxieties into God’s hands. Trust that as He carries you through the night, so too He will carry you through the final passage when your days are done. In doing so, you prepare your soul not only for rest, but for eternity.
Practically, live this teaching by making your bedtime more than a weary collapse. Let it be a sacred act. Teach your children to pray before sleep, that they may learn peace in the stillness. If you are burdened by fear or grief, lay it down with your nightly prayer, saying, “Into Thy hands I commit my spirit.” Over time, this simple ritual will shape your heart, and when the last hour comes, it will not be strange to you—you will only be continuing what you have practiced every night of your life.
So I say unto you: trust daily, and you will not fear the end. Embrace Jeremy Taylor’s wisdom, and let your sleep each night be not merely rest for the body, but a preparation of the soul. In this way, you will walk through life unafraid, and when the hour of death arrives, you will enter it as one who has rehearsed it all along—with calmness, with faith, and with unshakable trust in the hands of your eternal Creator.
Jjotaro
Jeremy Taylor's perspective on prayer and trust is thought-provoking. I find it comforting to think about committing myself into God’s hands, especially in moments of vulnerability. But is it enough to simply trust during times of quiet, or is this kind of trust something that needs to be built and practiced throughout our daily lives? How do we integrate this level of faith into every aspect of our lives, not just when we lie down at night or face death?
LDluat day
I love the idea of entrusting ourselves to our Creator with full faith, but I’m curious—what does it really look like in practice? How do we trust fully when we know that our circumstances might not turn out as we hope? Is this quote asking us to let go of our desires for specific outcomes, and just trust in God’s will, no matter how it unfolds? That seems like a tough ask, but one worth considering.
BTBao tran
This quote really speaks to the importance of letting go and trusting God, especially during moments of peace or contemplation. But I also wonder—how does one develop this level of trust over time? Is it a natural evolution of faith, or does it require a conscious effort to set aside doubt and fear? How do we cultivate that deep trust in the Creator during both the quiet moments and during life’s most challenging times?
LTlong tran
Jeremy Taylor's words are comforting, yet I’m curious—how do we find the balance between trusting in a higher power and taking responsibility for our actions? Does surrendering to God mean completely relinquishing control, or can there still be a role for personal effort? How do we reconcile the need for faith with our natural instinct to hold on to things we care about, especially in moments of vulnerability like at night or when facing death?
TTTu Tran
This quote by Jeremy Taylor seems to emphasize surrendering to a higher power, especially at vulnerable moments like sleep or even death. But I wonder—how do we truly achieve that level of trust? What does it take to fully let go of control, particularly when we’re facing uncertainty or fear? Is it enough to pray a short prayer, or does that trust require a deeper, ongoing relationship with our Creator?