When God is Still Writing the Dream

originally written for JenniferSlatteryLivesOutLoud.com

When the door closed behind me, I didn’t know it would become one of those defining moments God would use to reveal what I’d quietly locked away in my heart. I didn’t think twice as I wheeled out the first load of luggage, my mind fixed on the car and the schedule I was determined to keep. 

But when I opened the trunk, it hit me: I’d left my phone inside, along with the app that unlocked the door. All I had were my key fob and suitcase. Everything else, including my supplies and the notes for the meeting I was speaking at in an hour, was locked away inside while I stood outside frozen.

The wind tussled my hair as storm clouds gathered overhead, and panic rose in my chest. I wanted someone to appear out of nowhere and hand me my phone or to rewind those few minutes so I could grab it myself.

Days later, as I replayed the moment in my mind, the Holy Spirit whispered to my heart, “This is how you have been treating the hopes and tender longings you’ve locked away.” Places where my efforts were crushed and the outcomes fell far from what I had planned for.

So often, when obstacles press down on us, we shrink back. We quit. We tell ourselves the path must not be right and choose the safer, well-traveled road, even as a quiet part of us wonders if maybe we should try again.

Joseph knew this tension well.

Joseph was one of the youngest of the twelve sons of the patriarch Jacob and he was his father’s favorite. Jacob made no attempt to hide his favoritism. He openly displayed his affection by giving Joseph a special coat of many colors and keeping him close while his brothers were out tending the sheep.

Joseph was quick to share the dreams God had placed in his heart with his family, and it cost him dearly. His brothers’ jealousy drove them to sell him into slavery and deceive their father into believing Joseph was dead.

In Egypt, far from home, Joseph’s ability to lead began to emerge. He served faithfully in the household of Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh and captain of the guard. Later, Joseph continued to lead even in prison, where he was unjustly confined.

Even behind bars, the language of dreams continued to follow him. Pharaoh’s cupbearer and baker were imprisoned alongside Joseph, and both became troubled by what they had seen in their sleep. Gifted by God, Joseph interpreted their visions accurately. The cupbearer was restored to his position; the baker was not. Joseph asked to be remembered, but once the cupbearer returned to serving Pharaoh, Joseph was forgotten.

Scripture does not tell us how often Joseph reflected on the visions God had placed in his heart so long ago. Did he regret sharing them with his family, now knowing it had provoked his brothers’ jealousy? Did he wonder if staying silent might have kept their family dysfunction at bay and he could have remained at home, safe, and loved? Did he ever question whether it was worth believing again in what once felt so real?

I’ve spent so much time looking back—wondering how I might have handled hard situations differently, wishing I had slowed down and thought through the outcomes, and reflecting on how my choices affected others. And too often, I’ve let fear stop me from trying again, convinced that failure had disqualified me.

Do you ever feel that way? Too afraid to try again? Too worn out to believe?

Standing outside that locked condo, I felt that same wave of discouragement. I wanted to give up. But without a phone in my hand, I had to get creative, take a risk, ask for help, and believe that a solution was possible.

Then one day, Joseph’s closed doors opened. He was summoned before Pharaoh because the cupbearer finally remembered him. Standing before Pharaoh, Joseph pointed to God as the true interpreter of dreams and offered wisdom for the future. In a moment, Joseph went from prisoner to second in command over all Egypt.

His long season of hardship had prepared him.

Sometimes, that is exactly what our waiting and our setbacks are doing for us.

Today, I invite you to sit prayerfully with these questions: 

• Do you need to do something differently?
• Do you need to ask for help?
• Do you need to believe in yourself again?
• Do you need to grieve the past to embrace the future?
• Do you need to trust God in a new way?

Whatever it is, when we open space in our hearts, we make room for the creativity that helps unlock the hopes we carry and the story God is still writing.

In this new year, let us become people who dream boldly again.