Prayer for grandmothers

Father, Your word says: on my arm shall they trust. The arm of the Lord—the one that made the world and stretches across the history of Your people—is the trusting place. Not a small finger. The arm. Summer is ending, and I am tired from the heat, from the long visit by the grandchildren, from the appointments that piled up in August. Your arm is just the right help for my tired evening prayer. Not too small for my tiredness. Not too big for my small need. Lord, lean me on Your arm tonight the way I used to lean on a strong arm at the end of a long day. The way the small grandchildren still lean on my arm when they are sleepy. The arm holds. It has held nations and carried captives and raised the dead. It will hold one tired grandmother on the last day of August. Carry me into September. Let the start of fall find me rested in You. Make the cooler weather a gift from Your hand. Make the changing season a quiet reminder that the One who made the seasons is still arranging them. Then take me into the next month leaning on the arm that has held all my months so far. Amen.