Do you ever feel like everything you do is wrong? And then, when it seems you’re finally headed in the right direction, some train comes barreling out of nowhere and runs you over?
I’ve been there. Lately, it’s seemed that there’s a whole line of people just waiting to send a train my direction, knocking me down and pointing out my failures.
It’s hard sometimes to believe anything other than that I am a failure. I’ve cried out to God countless times, begging Him to help me get up and back on the right track. It’s hard, and I’m struggling.
Studying biblical stories of people like Joseph (Genesis 37; 39–50) helps me find strength to keep going. He was knocked down a lot, yet he lived an incredibly fulfilling life.
Joseph was the youngest of his siblings and his father’s favorite. His brothers grew jealous of their dad’s lopsided affection. It didn’t help that Dad made Joseph a special coat of many colors or that Joseph had shared his dream that his brothers and father would someday bow down to him.
One day, his brothers decided to kill him. At the last minute, his oldest brother intervened and convinced the others to “just” throw Joseph into a nearby pit instead. But then along came a caravan of Ishmaelites, and the brothers sold Joseph into slavery. He was taken to Egypt where he ended up serving Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh and the captain of the guard.
There, in Potiphar’s house, things started looking up. Potiphar liked Joseph and put him in charge of the household. But Potiphar’s wife liked him, too, and she tried to seduce him. When Joseph, a man of God, refused her advances, the rejected woman sought revenge and falsely accused Joseph of rape. Potiphar threw him in prison.
Joseph’s life once again seemed to be heading in the wrong direction, but then he interpreted the dream of a fellow prisoner, one of Pharaoh’s servants. The servant promised to remember Joseph when he was released from prison. For a moment, there was a glimpse of hope.
Once released, however, the man forgot, and Joseph stayed in that prison two more years. Then Pharaoh needed a dream interpreted, and the servant remembered his promise. Joseph was brought up from the prison to the palace, and after a successful interpretation, was made the second most powerful man in Egypt.
Joseph went on to save not only Egypt but surrounding nations, including his entire family, from an incredible famine.
Think about Joseph’s journey from the pit to the palace. He experienced verbal and physical assaults, abandonment, rejection, imprisonment, and isolation. He was sold into slavery, falsely accused of rape, and forgotten. He was a man repeatedly knocked down at no fault of his own.
It would’ve been easy for Joseph to grow angry, seek revenge, complain, or give up. But there is no account anywhere of him being spiteful or disgruntled or hopeless.
Instead, Joseph lived his life to the fullest wherever he found himself. He served God faithfully with integrity and excellence. He focused on what God said about him and his future, not what people and his circumstances said.
A closer look of the story reveals another beautiful truth: God was there. Joseph was never alone—not in the pit or the prison. Nor was he without hope. God was always at work, moving Joseph to where he needed to be and at just the right time.
In Genesis 45:7, Joseph told his brothers that God had sent him to Egypt, not them. God had taken what they had meant for harm and used it for good (Genesis 50:20).
I want to be like Joseph. I want to trust that God is with me and that He is in control and at work. And the Bible says I can!
Isaiah 41:10 promises that God is with me, strengthening, helping, and upholding me. Psalm 56:8 promises that He sees my sorrows and is keeping track of them. And Romans 8:28 says that God is working out all the pits of my life for my good and His glory.
He’s doing all these things for you too.
CARLA OWENS loves the Lord and seeks to know Him more intimately every day. She is Kristi Overton Johnson’s executive assistant and the administrative director of Victorious Living.
