Hi. I’m Ken Jones, and this is A Classic State of Mind, with a word about … Tomorrow.

Here on KVIP the past few Sunday mornings, we’ve taken a look at some of the days I mention in my latest book, “If I Should Die Before I Live, (sorting out what matters most.) The seven most significant days I believe any of us can navigate:

Someday, for Dreaming.

Any Day, for Waiting.

Every Day, for Living.

Yesterday, for Remembering.

Today, for Now.

This morning, we’ll look at “Tomorrow, for sure?”

Tomorrow is the only day in our lives that ‘shrinks’ with the passing of time. As I’m in the process of living my life Every Day, my Yesterday — and the road I have travelled since the beginning of my life — grows longer and longer, while the path containing all my Tomorrows grows shorter and shorter.  A time will surely come when the ‘moment-count’ of my Yesterday’s will be completed. My journey will have come to an end, here on this earth. And the opportunity for me to look toward Tomorrow will be no more. In other words, whenever my ‘number’ is up, Tomorrow will no longer be available to even consider.

When our children were small, we had a tradition of sorts. Every Sunday evening, my wife would break out the waffle iron, and prepare batter. She’d slice bowls of different kinds of fruit, set the syrup on the table, along with several kinds of homemade jam she had canned herself. She’d set the jar of peanut butter on the table, too, just for me, because I like peanut butter on my waffles.

And most Sundays nights, we’d gather for waffle night, and enjoy conversation and the building of gorgeous waffles we woofed down with great alacrity. Our entire family benefitted from my wife’s faithfulness and provision on waffle nights. Her loving preparations created wonderful and tasty food, coupled with warm and meaningful memories. My boys and I naturally came to assume that Sunday nights were waffle nights.

We always had waffles on Sunday nights.

But that is not to say that we were ‘presumptuous.’ I would never want my sons to presume upon the good and loving intentions of their mother. She didn’t ‘owe us’ a waffle. We enjoyed the benefits of her love because she loved to make us happy. If we showed up at the kitchen table, plates and silverware in hand, waiting as if my wife was somehow duty-bound to cook for us, it would be most rude and presumptuous, indeed.

And I certainly don’t want to presume upon God, either. God doesn’t owe me another Tomorrow. Whether I will be granted another Tomorrow is known … only to Him.

Tomorrow seems much too ‘knowable’ for a lot of people, I think, even though The Book says, no it isn’t. James, the half-brother of Jesus, mentions how ignorant we really are about Tomorrow, when he writes, “You don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

Tomorrow isn’t for sure. And, have you read it lately? The writer of Hebrews wrote that “Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, and today, and forever.” (Heb. 13:8, NIV) But he says nothing about “yesterday, and today, and Tomorrow.” Because His word tells me He is a faithful and good God, and because I have seen that provision in my life many times, I can assume that if I live to see Tomorrow, He will continue to faithfully provide for my life. In fact, every good and perfect gift comes from Him. He has been so faithful in my life that I can safely assume he will always be that way, since He is eternal and immutable.

But that is not to say I can safely presume that God’s goodness guarantees I’ll see Tomorrow. He has never obligated Himself with regard to how many Tomorrows I am entitled. He has only obligated Himself to my eternity. Jesus died and rose from the dead, so that my eternity could be secured.

Yes. Because of Jesus, eternity is a ‘for sure’ kind of word.

But Tomorrow? Not so much.

Tomorrow is a lot more … iffy.

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