Tomorrow will be kinder
It’s true, I’ve seen it before
A brighter day is coming my way
Yes, tomorrow will be kinder
-The Secret Sisters, Tomorrow Will Be Kinder
When I was a freshman in college I was cast in a show called Quilters. Mostly, women, quilting, on the prairie…the show was kind of uneven, but the music was fantastic. There was a song in particular called “Never Grow Old” which we loved to sing most of all.
I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Of something to look forward to…something that’ll make it all worthwhile…
I was ready to mope a lot. But I continued with my archive and 10 years ago I wrote what I should read today.
“Hope is dangerous. Hope changes things. Hope is what makes you wipe the mud for your eyes because maybe, just maybe, there’s something beyond that mud. Its thinking that there’s sunlight and the smell of clean sheets. And people hate hope. They hate it because sometimes its too late. They hate is because they remember having hope and they’re jealous. They’re jealous of innocence.
You can’t get innocence back. You can’t close your eyes to what you’ve seen. There are horrible things in this world indelibly imprinted on my memory. There are words I’ve heard that I wish were stricken from my vocabulary. There are images I’ve seen burned into my eyes and heart. I see pain, I see hurt, I have shed more tears than a swollen summer sky…and I still hope. Because I’m too stubborn and too faithful to believe this is all there is.
I have hope for beauty. I have hope for love. They’re still there. They’re just hiding because too many times they’ve been covered in muck and grime. Beauty always shows through the dust…there’s always a glint of it somewhere. Love still sneaks through in a kind glance or word.
I hurt. No lie. To say that I am happy and content would be a lie. But to deny myself hope would also be a lie. More than a lie, it would kill me. It would kill all I am. There are so many beautiful tomorrows behind these painful yesterdays. All you have to do is look up, wipe the mud from your world weary eyes and smile.
Because it will spite this pain stricken world.”
And part of me doesn’t want to listen to her. What did she know? On the other hand…what do I know? I know I want to hope. So, I’ll cry for awhile, splash some water on my face…and try to hope some more. And perhaps, better than hoping for things to be better…I’ll try to make them better. In whatever small way I can.
Hours of Sleep: 8 hours. A reasonable amount, thank you
Exercise: Carried the lawnmower out of my car. Went up and down the stairs a bunch of times. Went on a short walk…the weather was nice, I like the hint of fall in the air.
Breakfast: light turkey bacon breakfast sandwich and half a caramel machiatoo
Cleaning or Packing?: House showing again tomorrow, cleaned off dining room table, tidied up a bit from the weekend.
Made my bed?: Rolled out of bed and threw the covers back on my husband. I’ll count that.
Read 1 book a week: After some searching and waiting, finally reading Four Letter Word by Joshua Knelman & Rosalind Porter. It is so good.
Songs mean different things at different times. Never grow old is a concept a 19 year old understands differently than a 31 year old. Its still a beautiful song…but now, it stings, just a little.
I have heard of a land on the faraway strand,
’Tis a beautiful home of the soul;
Built by Jesus on high, where we never shall die,
’Tis a land where we never grow old.
Never grow old, never grow old,
In a land where we’ll never grow old;
Never grow old, never grow old,
In a land where we’ll never grow old.