There is a budding morrow in midnight.

To those leaning on the sustaining infinite, to-day is big with blessings.

We can easily manage if we will only take, each day, the burden appointed to it. But the load will be too heavy for us if we carry yesterday's burden over again today, and then add the burden of the morrow before we are required to bear it.

Every twenty-four hours God has a fresh new supply of grace, of favor, of wisdom, of forgiveness.

For every man the world is as fresh as it was at the first day, and as full of untold novelties for him who has the eyes to see them.

What would it be like to be a white page, starting from the beginning with stories untold and memories unmade? To start with a blank slate and go from there?-Travis Thrasher, Broken

One can no more prevent thought from recurring to an idea than one can the sea from returning to the shore: the sailor calls it the tide; the guilty man calls it remorse; God upheaves the soul as he does the ocean.

Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it... yet.

Each morning, when we wake—if we wake—we pick up whatever it is we've been given to carry for that day, with the sweet Lord Jesus in the yoke beside us to tote the load. Each night we lay it down, giving it into God's hands. If it's still there in the morning, we pick it up and begin again. If the burden is gone or if there is something different, we know where to start.

God thank you for everything you've given us. For the time we have together. And for the miracle of Christmas. Thank you for the Atonement, the chance to start all over again. Help us to always remember who we are and to trust that we are worthy to make it through our storms. Amen.

There sounds the horn! Breakfast is ready. A most useful and salutary custom is that of breakfast. One may work with the hands before breakfast, but not much with the head. The machine must be wound up.

Each day seems a new beginning, — a new acquaintance with grief.