Hope That You’re Not Alone

Twelve years ago, I lived in a little brick house on a corner. My days were filled with three little boys—ages nine, four, and a new baby—and teaching kindergarten just a few blocks behind my house. The weekends brought dinner with friends, walking to Sunday services, and lots of family time. My husband was in ministry, serving at the church across the street. The big glass window in our front room framed the bright white steeple, and the view at dawn and dusk was pretty spectacular. It was almost idyllic.

But then July came, and my world imploded in one night.

One day, soon after, I needed time to think and pray and seek God for the answers I thought I needed. I left my two older children with my parents, took the baby snoozing in his car seat with me, and drove to a pond nearby. The lawn chair teetered on the uneven grass as I plopped into it. I planned to grapple with the lofty truths of God’s love as it applied to my little corner of overwhelm.

Perhaps, Joseph did something like this, too. Imagine what it was like for him who, in one day, went from wearing robes that made him feel safe and special to being at the bottom of a well. Thrown there by someone he trusted. I could relate.

In the margin of Psalm 23 in my Bible was written a reference to Philippians 4:19. I looked it up: “God . . . will supply all your needs from his glorious riches” (NLT). It felt like he asked me again, “Do you trust me?” Even though it was hard, I said, “Yes, I do.”

Then my car died, in the midsummer blazing heat of Texas. I got up to check on the baby and to see what happened. I’d run out of gas with no one nearby. I scrambled for my phone to call my parents, but I didn’t have it. I’d brought my baby and my Bible that day, nothing else. No purse, no phone, no money.

At this point I had to laugh and throw out a prayer, saying, “Well, God, if ever there was a chance to provide where I can’t, this is it.”

I wonder what Joseph might have been thinking when he was at the bottom of the well, maybe screaming until he couldn’t scream any more. He knew he couldn’t trust his brothers. And that his dad wasn’t near enough to save him.

Are you wondering where God is? Are you sitting alone, remembering his promises, but not understanding what you’re experiencing?

I imagine Joseph knew this feeling well, alone at the bottom of the well. And, after he was sold into slavery by his brothers, who were supposed to protect him, he found himself alone in a foreign country. Then alone in the prison. And finally, alone in the palace.

When we look at the story of Joseph’s life, we see that it was full of God’s favor, and yet he often found himself as the outsider. He was a dreamer to his brothers, an immigrant to the Egyptians, a royal to his shepherding family. He didn’t fit anywhere he went.

But God was with Joseph when no one else seemed to be. God brought him through isolation to lead a nation. He worked through Joseph to provide for his family and all of Egypt.

Eventually, God restored Joseph’s relationship with those who ditched him. Joseph would later say of his brothers’ actions: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good” (Genesis 50:20, NLT).