a phantom future

I heard what I thought was an insightful and interesting essay on the radio this morning, and I wanted to share it. The author started out by noting the phenomenon of phantom pains in amputees- how people who have limbs amputated sometimes feel pain in arms and legs that are not there. A few years ago, the author was diagnosed with cancer, and told he had 6 months to live. Now his prognosis is more hopeful, but he still finds thinking about the future difficult. He wonders: Are my plans for 2 years from now- a future that for me may very well not exist- as absurd, as meaningless, as pain felt in an arm long severed? Do I have, in effect, a phantom future?
And it made me think- with or without a prognosis of imminent death, aren't even our most carefully crafted and contemplated plans absurd, in a way? Of course we have to plan for the future; for lack of vision a people perish, right? But lest we get too wrapped up in a future that is not ours, that could be snatched from our grasping hands at any moment, it is arrogance of the most absurd (and yet common, and for me very personal) kind to to believe that those plans are anything more than mere feeling and sensation, a hope for things uncertain.
Is this morbid? I don't think so. It's just one more reminder that our destinies are not our own. Whether you believe that God or fate or evil or anything else does the life altering/directing/snatching, I think we all can agree that there will always be an element of life that is uncertain, no matter how strong or wise we become. Yes, make plans, by all means! But let's recognize those plans for what they really are: an amputee's sensory longing.
As a corollary-- while any plans I construct for myself are phantom futures, the plans of the One who has the power over the course of my life are solid, beyond reach of life's uncertainties. As unsatisfactory as it may sound, God's plans- which in their entirety are completely unknown and unknowable to me- are the only real sure thing. The plans I carefully plan and construct and sweat for are ephemeral; the Divine future I can't predict or build or sway is lasting. Honestly, I only am comfortable with this arrangement when I am at my wit's and strength's end, but I believe it is true.