There are days of the week upon which and about which I never worry—two carefree days, kept sacredly free from fear and apprehension.
One of these is YESTERDAY. Yesterday, with all its cares and frets, with all its pains and aches, all its faults, its mistakes and blunders, has passed Forever beyond the reach of my recall. I cannot undo an act that I wrought; I cannot unsay a word that I said yesterday. All that it holds of my life, of wrongs, regret and sorrow, is in the hands of the mighty love that can bring honey out of the rock and sweet waters out of the bitterest desert. That love can make the wrong things right, can turn weeping into laughter, can give beauty for ashes, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, joy of the morning for the woe of the night.
Except for the beautiful memories, sweet and tender, that linger like perfumes of roses in the heart of the day that is gone, I have nothing to do with yesterday. It was mine; it is God's.
And the other day I do not worry about is TOMORROW. Tomorrow with all its possible adversities, its burdens, it perils, its large promise and poor performance, its failures and mistakes, is as far beyond the reach of my mastery as its dead sister, yesterday. It is a day of God's. Its sun will rise in roseate splendor, or behind a mask of weeping clouds, but it will rise. Until then, the same love and patience that hold yesterday and hold tomorrow, shine with tender promise into the heart of today. I have no possession in that unborn day of grace. All else is in the safekeeping of that infinite love that holds for me the treasure of yesterday, the love that is higher than the stars, wider than the skies, deeper than the seas. TOMORROW—it is God's day. It will be mine.
There is left for myself, then, only one day of the week—TODAY. With faith and trust in the Lord any man can fight the battles of today. Any woman can carry the burdens of just one day. Any man can resist the temptations of today. O friend, it is only when to the burdens and cares of today carefully measured out to us by the infinite wisdom and might that gives with them the promise, "As thy days. so shall thy strength be," we willfully add the burdens of those two awful eternities—yesterday and tomorrow—such burdens as only the mighty God can sustain—that we break down. It isn't the experience of today that drives men mad, it is the remorse for something that happened yesterday, the dread of what tomorrow may disclose.