“As an act of goodwill you must sacrifice all the futures you might have for the one that he designs for you.”
PSALM 28-30
ACTS 21:1-14
JOURNAL
For much of my life, my hopes and dreams for tomorrow have given me a sense of security. As long as I could picture the future I wanted and believe I was moving toward it, I felt grounded. But I am beginning to realize that hopes and dreams, when too narrowly defined, can become anchors. Instead of helping me follow God wherever He leads, they quietly tether me to a destination of my own making. Without realizing it, I begin evaluating every opportunity, disappointment, and act of obedience by whether it moves me closer to the future I have imagined.
The question I keep coming back to is, where did that picture come from? Was it born from God's Spirit, or from my own desires, fears, and imagination? If it is from me, why should I trust it so completely? If it is from God, then I don't need to cling to it. The only way to experience God's future is to surrender it back to Him and seek His will today.
The more I practice this, the more I notice two seemingly opposite things happening at the same time. At first, there is a real sense of disorientation. It feels like I have lost my bearings because the things that once gave me direction are no longer in control. But that feeling slowly gives way to freedom. I begin to realize I am not losing myself. I am simply letting go of anchors that kept me from being fully present with God today. Instead of chasing tomorrow, I become more attentive to today's opportunities for obedience.
Paul lived this way. Even after hearing that chains awaited him in Jerusalem, he continued because his security was no longer found in a preferred outcome but in the will of God. David could say, "You turned my wailing into dancing," not because life became easy, but because his confidence rested in God rather than circumstances. James could tell us to "consider it pure joy" because joy is not rooted in getting the future we hoped for but in trusting the God who already holds it.
Perhaps that is what I am finally beginning to learn. The greatest security is not found in the future I can imagine but in surrendering both today and tomorrow into God's hands. That surrender feels unfamiliar at first, but on the other side of it is a freedom and joy I am only beginning to discover.