I do not fear, but I ponder.

I dream of the future, and all of its’ wonder.

If I choose to worry today, of all the pains yet to come,

I will miss all the moments of today, and what will I become?

Half the smiles of tomorrow lie, in the mystery of today.

Half the tears of tomorrow will be dry, when they become yesterday.

Fret not like a child, of which flower will bloom,

Of what will come of your cocoon.

Guaranteed only this moment, what more can you give?

What joy there is in the mystery, of all the life yet to live.  2001


This breath, this paradigm, this choice to live today and be blindly excited for tomorrow, is so unbelievably scary.  I wrote this, some thirteen years ago, but it still rings true.  This season that I am currently trudging through will be remembered and credited for some of the greatest growth periods of my life if I let it.  But first I must wake up tomorrow ready to serve and see each fleeting moment for what it is, and not let it slip through my fingertips as I focus on that which will soon unfold. 

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