When night closes in, what would we do without the hope of tomorrow? Yesterday, I tucked another day away and put it in my box of memories. As the sun slid westward, people began returning home from work, the cardinal family came to the bird feeders for a bit of supper, and those busy squirrels, whose diet includes my new spring daffodils, disappeared into their leafy houses. Another day, ended, and though the world seemed dark, tomorrow would come.
So, I thought about the possibilities. Maybe tomorrow the homeless man who was in a fast food parking lot will find a better place to be and people will learn to emphasize love instead of hate. Perhaps insoluble problems will be answered and those who are ill may find healing. Fear over the future will turn to faith. Tomorrow.
Sometimes, evening shadows bring with them a myriad of negative feelings: sadness, recriminations, a feeling of not having done enough. Could I have been more understanding, listened with more compassion, been more aware of another’s need? Strange to say, if I let it, night brings memories of past failures and fears, but it shouldn’t.
Night is God’s way of drawing the curtain across another day. In the morning, the sun will rise again upon brand-new hopes, opportunities, and potential. Tomorrow. Thank God for tomorrow.
Blanche, this is wonderful! I pray you remember your own well-written words and thoughts as each night God draws the curtain across another day. : )
I love that visual and won’t forget it! : )
I miss our bad little squirrels with an appetite for Spring flowers! I loved the naughty little critters! If there’s any around here they haven’t found the bird feeders yet. Not enough trees in our yard.
Love and miss you, too!
Thanks so much, Fran. I’m glad you enjoyed the post. I would absolutely love to ship you a whole bunch of my little tree rodents. Their only redeeming factors are they are cute and entertaining. Of course, they don’t know the difference between flowers and acorns! Good to hear from you.