There are two days in the week upon which and about which I never worry—two carefree days kept sacredly free from fear and apprehension. One of these days is Yesterday. Yesterday, with its cares and frets and pains and aches, all its faults, its mistakes and blunders, has passed forever beyond my recall. It was mine; it is God’s.
The other day that I do not worry about is Tomorrow. Tomorrow, with all its possible adversities, its burdens, its perils, its large promise and performance, its failures and mistakes, is as far beyond my mastery as its dead sister, Yesterday. Tomorrow is God’s day; it will be mine.
There is left, then, for myself but one day in the week—Today. Any man can fight the battles of today. Any woman can carry the burdens of just one day; any man can resist the temptation of today. It is only when we willfully add the burdens of these 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 of what happened Yesterday and fear of what Tomorrow might bring. These are God’s Days…Leave them to Him.
— Robert J. Burdette
This relection seems to add another dimension to the metaphorical riddle of the man, the bridge, and the three boxes in the previous entry. (Thanks Libby.)