As I write this, my day is shaping up to be pretty normal. I have an AP Literature class in fifteen minutes and a Calc BC class in a few hours. I’ll probably watch a video for AP Econ, maybe conquer some French homework, and hopefully work my way around to taking that finance test; oh, and I’ve got to study for my physics midterm, too. Then at 6:45 PM (probably a few minutes later), my family and I will stuff ourselves into the SUV and head to taekwondo, where I’ll throw some punches and slay a few targets for 45 minutes before heading home to wrap up my day and sleep.
Tomorrow is a bit more exciting. Tomorrow, I could hear back from a college I’m hoping to attend. I could win the lottery (if I’d bought a ticket), or I could finally get some news about a job I’m looking at. In the next few months, I could win a scholarship, meet my new best friends, and be reunited with my old ones. In the next few years, I could graduate with my undergrad degree, maybe at the top of my class if I work hard enough, and become a full time missionary. Or I could start an internship with a U.S. ministry, or join the CIA, or go for a Master’s or Doctorate, or get my photography business up and running–who knows? God does, of course, but I can’t.
But today is beautiful. Let’s come back to today. The sun beats down on the dark blue cushions of the chairs on my porch, where my little brother’s reading Redwall (“for my English class,” he claims). A few minutes ago, the air was chilly, even a bit biting, through the warm beams as I sat with him and watched the sun rise, both of us in our sweats and Colorado sweatshirts, with my head on his shoulder (gotta love big little brothers). Right now, with Ms. Wood’s lecture on composition style in my ears and a little idea itching in my mind, these seconds are beautiful. My youngest sister’s putting on an unnecessary winter hat, and Mom is heading out the door for a chiropractic appointment, and though it’s mundane, it’s beautiful. I guess what I’m really getting at is that now is beautiful. Now is one of the hardest places you will ever live; it’s the most unbearable, the most agonizing, the most rewarding, the most meaningful, the most poignant. And it’s worth it.
I noted earlier that God knows. When we live in the now, we don’t leave the rest of our lives to spiral out of of control with no consideration about our direction. Instead, we trust our lives implicitly to our omniscient God, because we know He is able. Living in the now lets us throw the burdens of the future onto His oh-so-capable shoulders. Those possible triumphs, failures, victories, despairs, all locked impossibly away in a future God knows we’re not ready for, can wait for us in His hands, unmoved by all our hopes and worries about them.
One of my best friends once told me, “Someday is a beautiful place, isn’t it? Dwell on it so long as it presses you forward.” And it really is a beautiful place, Someday. Enjoy Someday, but live in the Now. You can’t do anything in Tomorrow, but you can change the world Today. So enjoy the simple things–the big little brothers, the sunshine, the amazing TPS teachers, and the chocolate chip muffins your mom brings to your desk–and know that right now, Today is the best place, the only place you can be.