I’ve got big plans – places to be, things to do.
But they can wait for tomorrow.
I’ve got dishes to do, laundry to fold and a bathroom to clean.
Tomorrow.
I have a friend to call, a relationship to patch up, a letter to write.
Tomorrow.
I have a brother in need, a sister in sorrow. Sure, I’ll see them.
Tomorrow.
I have a book to write, a fence post to set, a yard to mulch.
Tomorrow.
I can talk about all the things I’ll do later – and really, I’m just fooling myself. Because later – including tomorrow, next week, next month or next year – are not really promised. They’re on the printed calendar, but who really knows?
What arrogance that I would presume that these important things can be done later.
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 Photo by karissa_lynne |
The future is a thief, stealing all the creativity and innovation from today. It steals the passion and the pleasure, the motivation and compassion, and the grand ideals of the moment. It rips all the good out of the right now.
Please, share with a friend if you feel moved.
Read all past issues at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidrupert
Read all past issues at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidrupert
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