I had this amazing, exhilarating thought today. A revelation. An epiphany. It will probably revolutionize my life.
It came to me when I was looking at the mess my family room still is. With a yard sale pending, moving happening, boxes multiplying, and the stuff from my office dumping into the mix, my inability to get to that room and others under control was gnawing at me today until the thought came to me. So sudden and so simple, it almost made me laugh. And of course it was a line from a movie–you may have figured out by now that my brain is full of them. But there it was, straight from the last page of Margaret Mitchell’s classic novel, the last scene of Gone with the Wind, and complete with Scarlett O’Hara’s southern accent:
“Tomorrow is another day.”
I’m sure that sounds trivial to most of you, but please let me explain. For the last eight years, in other words since my children came on the scene, I have been doing the balancing act of being a full-time mom and a working mom. The last half of that time I’ve been a full-time pastor. My life, although wonderfully full and meaningful, has been an endless series of scenes in which I run out the door so I can get to the next thing. My schedules and lists have been fettered with notations referring to time. A simple letter “T” with a circle around it means “today.” In other words, if I don’t get it done today, it’s not getting done. Probably because tomorrow was filled with things from the other “job.” My days off, usually devoted to catching up with chores at home, always ended with unfinished business that would need to wait another week before I could get back to it. I routinely left meetings to get my kids, left my kids to get to meetings, and left the dirty dishes in the sink because in the big picture of life they fell to the bottom of my priority list.
So imagine my exhilaration today. When faced with yet another unfinished task, I realized that I don’t have to run off to work tomorrow. Rather, I can actually pick up where I left off. Even with the interruptions that life with my four-year-old, swashbuckler Dominick provides, when tomorrow comes I can keep plodding along. It’s quite likely that given a series of days, I could actually get something accomplished that will make a difference I can see.
And wouldn’t that be grand!