The routine: supper, bath, book, Our Father, lights out, Church hymns, bed. This is what it takes to get Sofie to sleep, though by seven or so in the evening, she’s a willing accomplice to the whole thing. And really, once the bath is over, the rest takes just minutes.
In a darkened nursery, with your daughter in your arms, having prayed the Our Father, with the Phos hilaron and the Nunc dimittis on your lips, sometimes the questions are stilled. At least for a while.
One is not wrong to take brief comfort in that.
“Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with his mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.” (Psalm 131:2)