What is my future? And is it good?

The Question Everyone Asks at 3am

There is a particular kind of anxiety that arrives uninvited in the small hours of the morning. It is not about what happened yesterday. It is about what might happen tomorrow. Will the business survive? Will the relationship last? Will my health hold? Will I be enough?

The future is the one thing every human being has in common and nobody can control. We can plan, prepare, strategise, and save — and then a pandemic arrives, or a diagnosis, or a phone call that changes everything.

So when the disciples asked Jesus about the future in Mark chapter 13, they were asking the same question that keeps most people awake at night: what is coming, and should I be afraid?

The Conversation That Started It All

Mark 13 begins with the disciples admiring the temple in Jerusalem. It was one of the architectural wonders of the ancient world — massive stones, stunning craftsmanship, the physical centre of Jewish religious life. And Jesus casually said: "Do you see all these great buildings? Not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down."

The disciples were stunned. So they asked privately: when will this happen? What will the signs be?

Jesus's answer covered wars, earthquakes, famines, persecution, false prophets, and cosmic upheaval. It is not exactly a comforting bedtime reading.

But the talk argued that underneath the apocalyptic language, Jesus was making two points that matter deeply for anyone anxious about the future.

Question One — What Does My Future Hold

"As a species we have a real unique ability. We can think in different time zones. We can think about the past, we can think about the present, and we can think about the future. And how we think about the future — well, that's critical."

Scientists call this prospection — the human capacity to imagine and plan for the future. It is one of our greatest cognitive gifts and one of our greatest sources of suffering. Because the same ability that allows us to plan a holiday also allows us to catastrophise about a redundancy that has not happened yet.

Jesus addressed this directly in Matthew 6:33-34: "Seek the kingdom of God above all else and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need. So don't worry about tomorrow."

That is a remarkable statement. Not "don't plan for tomorrow" but "don't worry about tomorrow." There is a difference between wise preparation and anxious rumination. Planning says: I will do what I can and trust God with the rest. Worry says: I must control every variable or everything will fall apart.

"Jesus tells us something quite radical. He tells us that we don't have to worry about the future. We don't have to be anxious about it. But that's kind of easier said than done, isn't it?"

The Key That Unlocks Peace

The verse does not just say "stop worrying." It says "seek the kingdom of God above all else." The peace comes with a condition — not a transactional one, but a directional one. Where are you looking?

If your eyes are fixed on the economy, you will be anxious when the markets dip. If your eyes are fixed on your health, every symptom becomes a crisis. If your eyes are fixed on your relationships, every conflict feels existential.

But if your primary orientation is towards God — his character, his promises, his track record — then the circumstances lose their power to define your emotional state. Not because the circumstances change, but because the framework through which you interpret them changes.

"Notice the whole deal starts with seeking the right things. It starts with seeking the kingdom of God, or God's way of doing things. When you get that right, the worry starts to lose its grip."

This is not toxic positivity or spiritual denial. It is a reorientation of attention. The problems are still real. The uncertainty is still there. But the person facing them is standing on different ground.

Question Two — Is My Future Any Good

The second question the talk addressed was more personal. It is not just "what will happen?" but "will it be good?"

Jeremiah 29:11 is one of the most quoted verses in the Bible: "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

It is important to understand the context. Jeremiah was writing to Jewish exiles in Babylon. They had lost their homeland, their temple, their way of life. They were captives in a foreign empire. And God said to them: I have not forgotten you. I have plans for you. And those plans are good.

"That's quite incredible when you think about who he's talking to. These are people who have lost everything. And God says: I still have good plans for you."

The promise is not that life will be comfortable or pain-free. The exiles remained in Babylon for seventy years. Many of them died there. But God's definition of "good" is bigger than our definition of "comfortable." His plans operate on a timescale and with a scope that we cannot see from where we are standing.

What Jesus Said About Difficult Times

Mark 13 does not pretend that the future will be easy. Jesus was explicit about hardship: wars, persecution, betrayal, natural disasters. He told his followers that they would be arrested, brought before authorities, and hated because of him.

But woven through all of that was a thread of reassurance. "Do not worry beforehand about what to say. Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking, but the Holy Spirit." And: "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away."

The future contains difficulty. Jesus did not pretend otherwise. But the future also contains God. And the consistent message throughout Mark 13 is that nothing that happens catches God off guard. He is not scrambling to respond to events. He is sovereign over them.

"The question isn't really whether difficult things will happen. They will. The question is whether we face them alone or with God. And the whole message of Mark 13 is: you are not alone."

The Trap of Trying to Predict

One interesting thread in the talk was about the human desire to know the specifics. The disciples wanted a timeline. When will this happen? What are the signs? Give us the details so we can prepare.

Jesus gave some general indicators but then said something that cuts against the entire prediction industry: "But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father."

We are not meant to know the future in detail. And the obsessive attempt to figure it out — whether through prophecy charts, political analysis, or anxious scenario planning — is itself a form of the worry Jesus told us to avoid.

"There's a real temptation to try and map out every possible future scenario. But Jesus basically says: that's not your job. Your job is to be faithful today, seek God today, love people today. The future is in his hands."

That is simultaneously freeing and frustrating. Freeing because it releases us from the impossible burden of controlling what we cannot control. Frustrating because we really, really want to know.

Living in the Tension

The practical challenge is learning to live in the space between "I don't know what is coming" and "I know who holds the future." That is not a comfortable place. It requires a daily choice to trust rather than worry, to seek rather than scheme, to pray rather than panic.

The talk offered three practical anchors for people struggling with anxiety about the future.

First, start the day with God. Before checking the news, before opening emails, before the anxiety of the day has a chance to set in — spend time in prayer and scripture. Not as a religious duty, but as an act of orientation. Point yourself towards God before the world points you towards fear.

Second, practise gratitude. Anxiety is almost always future-focused. Gratitude is present-focused. When you deliberately notice and thank God for what is good today, it interrupts the cycle of catastrophic thinking.

Third, stay connected to community. Anxiety thrives in isolation. The voices in your head at three in the morning are much louder when there is nobody else to offer perspective. Share your fears with people you trust. Let them remind you of what is true when you cannot see it for yourself.

A Future You Cannot See

The disciples who asked Jesus about the future in Mark 13 could not have imagined what their lives would become. They would endure hardship, yes. But they would also see the risen Jesus. They would receive the Holy Spirit. They would build a movement that changed the world. Their future was better and harder and bigger than anything they could have predicted.

The same may well be true for you.

What would change in the way you approach this week if you genuinely believed that God has good plans for your future — not comfortable plans, but genuinely good ones? And what is the one thing you are worrying about that you could choose, today, to hand over?