After I had suffered with poor health for several years, my condition worsened. Although I had been promised in a priesthood blessing I would one day experience a cure, my doctor thought it unlikely. Certainly it would not be soon. A black cloud of discouragement settled over my heart, and my painful burden seemed unbearable despite the support of my loving family.

After months of suffering, one day I recalled something that both my mother and grandmother had often said: "For tomorrow and its needs, I do not pray. Help me, guide me, direct me, Lord, just for today." This phrase came to mind often and I repeated it frequently, finding a small measure of comfort in the words. But I still felt terribly alone in my struggles.

One quiet Sunday, while visiting my sister, I opened my mother’s journal and read in it for most of the day. I delighted in the remembrance of this loving, funny, caring woman I missed dearly. Near the end of the journal, I found a heartfelt account of her battle with cancer. During my mother’s long hours of suffering, she wrote that she could almost hear her deceased mother’s voice comforting her time and again: "For tomorrow and its needs I do not pray. Help me, guide me, direct me, Lord, just for today."

I stared at the words, and suddenly my eyes were opened. I hadn’t been left to suffer alone and comfortless all these months. Whispering to my soul were kind, gentle words of comfort from my mother and grandmother. Tomorrow would take care of itself—no matter what was required of me today. The dark cloud over my heart dissipated in the light of love from my Heavenly Father, who knew the need of a daughter for her mother and sent me that comfort.