Tomorrow

"TO----morrow, to-MORROW, I'll love you tomorrow..." Joe sang at the top of his lungs one evening.

"You'll only love me tomorrow?" I inquired. "Not today?" It's good to clear up any misunderstandings early, like before they start.

"Well, isn't that how the song goes?" he said.

"Not quite...it's I love you, tomorrow," I said.

He frowned. "Why would someone sing about loving tomorrow?"

I sensed that he hadn't really been paying close attention when watching "Annie." It was a long time ago.

"Because for the orphans, there was always the possibility that tomorrow would be better than today," I explained.

Unless, of course, they happened to read Matthew 6:34, in which case, no matter how horrible the current day was, they would know that compared with what tomorrow might bring it was paradise. Everything from there on out was headed downhill, probably fast, so they had better enjoy mopping those floors.

Matthew 6:34, in case I have not adequately expressed my feelings about it, is a verse I personally find to be one of the most depressing in the Bible: "Each day has enough trouble of its own." This verse is widely quoted by many -- my mother included -- as a reason not to worry. What comfort such people find in it, I do not know. Personally, I think it's the best argument for worry that anyone could possibly make. How can the knowledge that tomorrow will be just as bad as today not make you worry? Not only does it make you worry in general, it makes you worry that tomorrow's worry will be worse than today's worry.

I picture a big Worry Meter somewhere, and at the end of any given day the needle is pointing straight at More Trouble than Job Had. The next morning it drops to Free as a Bird, but inevitably, it will reach Job status again.

I wonder what Abraham Lincoln thought of this verse. There was a man who had a few things to worry about. He was also a man who read the Bible. I picture him seeking to glean a bit of comfort from the Scriptures on, perhaps, the eve of Gettysburg, and reading the first part of Matthew 6:34: "So do not worry about tomorrow." His mind is greatly relieved. "What did I tell you?" his aide says. "Everything's going to be just fine."

But then Abe keeps reading. And when he gets to the last part of the verse, the part where he is warned that tomorrow may be worse than today, his earlier worry seizes him again with such intensity that his beard -- which he has been carefully cultivating after receiving a rather pointed suggestion from a little girl who didn't even know him -- just gives up hope and and droops in a heap all over his chin. And sure enough, the following day is worse.

Nope, you never hear Matthew 6:34 set to music. Maybe, after all, "I'll love you tomorrow." Unless I'm too worried.