Some Thoughts on The Unknown Future After Nine Months Traveling.


Walking leaves a lot of space for thinking—one of its virtues and its curses. On my recent trek in Nepal I noticed my thoughts turning towards what life will be like once I return to the States at the end of the month.

All sorts of questions were bubbling up:

Where will I live?

What will I be doing for work?

What does a return to life as usual mean?

Is that even possible anymore?

What's the first thing I'm going to eat when I get home?

What's the next big walk I'm going to do? Kidding. (Well not actually)

These aren't bad questions. In fact they're pretty good questions, one's that do need answering eventually. But what I realized is that the future is largely veiled. Even the things that we have planned are mostly tentative, subject to forces outside of our control. Often the energy spent trying to answer the questions of the future pull us away from living into what we're called to now.

There's a wisdom I'm discovering in Jesus' words, "Don't worry about tomorrow, each day holds enough troubles of its own." What if these aren't just pretty words but the reasonable outlook of life lived under God's actual care and guidance? This is a truly liberating way to live. From within the reality of Christ's kingdom we can let go of our agendas for the future: job, money, health, love, location, etc.

Imagine for a moment what would it be like to not carry these burdens.

Under God's care we can replace worry with trust, frantic arranging for our future with a calm, rooted, joyful pursuit of the place God has us each day. Christ invites us to learn from him how to live interactively with God in the midst of our everyday lives.

We slowly learn that the future will take care of itself because the future itself is in God's care.

Without this worry we are freed to play, risk, work, love—pursuing the things that make us come most alive. The frantic grasping after money, success, power, security—these are rendered unimportant, irrelevant, even uninteresting in light of the far richer and fuller life lived with God under Jesus' tutelage.

The questions I'm asking do need answering, but I'm letting God worry about the unknown future. Instead I'm trying to be as present as possible to what I feel excited about and called to pursue now—trusting more will be revealed when the time is right.

--- This leg of my journey is coming to a close, but there's still so much to be present to:

1. India. A bewitching jumble of sounds, tastes, colors, and chaos—with friends new and old.

2. Bangladesh. A return to a land before I was born, the place my parents lived when the promise of my family's futures lay unwritten.

3. Bali. A place to catch my breath and reflect on my trip and the road ahead.

4. Singapore. A celebration and a feast and a turning of the page.

travelRyan Mooretravel