A View From A Pew: Whose Hand Holds Your Future?

One of the most comforting phrases we repeat—especially when life feels uncertain—is, “My future is in God’s hands.” We say it when jobs are shaky, when elections loom, when the doctor says “we need to run more tests,” and when tomorrow feels heavier than today.

It sounds faithful. It sounds hopeful. It sounds like trust.

But if we’re honest, sometimes it also sounds like relief—relief from having to decide, to act, to risk, or to take responsibility.

Yes, God’s hand holds the future. I believe that with my whole heart. God is sovereign, present in yesterday, today, and tomorrow all at once. Nothing catches God off guard. No election result surprises Him. No diagnosis startles Him. No broken system confuses Him.

But from my pew, I’ve learned that believing God holds the future does not mean God does all the work. Faith, real faith, has never been passive.

Think about it. Noah trusted God—but faith didn’t float the ark into existence. Noah had to cut wood, measure boards, swing hammers, and endure ridicule. Moses believed God—but belief alone didn’t part the Red Sea. He still had to step forward and raise his staff. The walls of Jericho didn’t fall because Israel thought about marching—they fell because the people actually walked, day after day, lap after lap, until obedience met promise.

Even Jesus—fully divine—prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. He asked if the cup could pass. But then He stood up. He didn’t stay kneeling forever. He walked toward what obedience required.

From my view from a pew, that’s the part of faith we often skip over.

We love the praying part. We’re comfortable with the believing part. But the moving part? The risking part? The stepping part? That’s where things get uncomfortable.

Yet faith that never moves eventually becomes faith that never grows.

God’s hand may hold the future, but it is our hand that pulls the lever in the voting booth, deciding whether we participate or complain from the sidelines.
God’s hand may hold the future, but it is our hand that mentors a young person instead of writing them off, that volunteers instead of criticizing, that shows up instead of scrolling past.
God’s hand may hold the future, but it is our hand that starts the business, applies for the grant, enrolls in the class, or asks for help when pride says we shouldn’t.
God’s hand may hold the future, but it is our voice that must speak up when injustice becomes familiar and silence starts feeling convenient.

Sometimes we say, “I’m waiting on God,” when God is really waiting on us to take the first step. Sometimes what we call patience is actually fear. Sometimes what we call prayer is really procrastination dressed in church clothes.

From my pew, I’ve learned that God often answers prayers by giving us opportunities—and then watching to see if we walk through them.

Faith is not about doing everything ourselves, but it is about doing our part. It’s a partnership. God provides the vision; we provide the obedience. God opens the door; we still have to turn the handle. God plants the seed of possibility; we still have to water, nurture, and protect it.

Prayer matters. Faith matters. Belief matters. But faith without action is just good intentions wrapped in spiritual language.

So yes—place your future in God’s hands. That’s exactly where it belongs.
Just don’t take your hands off the work God has already put in front of you.

Because from my view from a pew, God’s hand may hold the future…
but our hands are how that future gets built—brick by brick, vote by vote, conversation by conversation, act of courage by act of courage.

And the future we keep praying about may already be waiting on us to move.

That’s my view from a pew.