Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strengths.

The saying contrasts the imagined control promised by worry with its real cost. Anxiety cannot prevent future hardship (“tomorrow’s sorrows”); it only drains the present of energy, clarity, and spiritual steadiness (“today’s strengths”). In a Spurgeon-like pastoral frame, the line urges a shift from fretful forecasting to faithful endurance in the present moment—meeting duties and trials as they come rather than rehearsing them in advance. The aphorism also implies a moral economy of attention: what we spend on worry is taken from prayer, work, and compassion. Its enduring appeal lies in its practical psychology joined to religious counsel: accept uncertainty, act today, and leave tomorrow to God.