What If the Thing You Wish Had Never Happened Is the Very Thing God Is Using?

This week, during the 36-hour fast I undertook to let go of things beyond my control, a question repeatedly emerged: What if the event I wish had never occurred is precisely what God is using to shape my future self?

This is a challenging question. Many of us can pinpoint moments we'd prefer to erase: a betrayal, a loss, a disappointment, a relationship that ended, or a difficult season that lasted longer than we thought we could bear.

Reflecting on this question, I was reminded of Joseph's story in Genesis—not Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus, but the other Joseph, son of Jacob and great-grandson of Abraham. His story played a crucial role in preserving the family line leading to Jesus Christ's birth.

Joseph was his father's favorite and had gifts that made others uneasy. God gave him dreams and the ability to interpret them. When he shared these dreams, his brothers grew jealous, and their envy turned to hatred.

They threw him into a pit.

Then they sold him into slavery.

Then they lied to their father, claiming Joseph had been killed by a wild animal.

Jacob mourned his son while Joseph was taken away into a future he never would have chosen.

Yet God was already at work.

As a slave, Joseph served diligently and gained his master's trust.

When his master's wife tried to seduce him, Joseph refused.

His integrity cost him dearly, as she falsely accused him, leading to his imprisonment.

Again, God was at work.

While in prison, Joseph interpreted the dreams of Pharaoh's cupbearer and baker, which unfolded exactly as God had revealed. The cupbearer was restored to Pharaoh's service and promised to remember Joseph.

He didn't.

Joseph remained in prison for two more years.

Yet again, God was at work.

When Pharaoh later had troubling dreams that no one could interpret, the cupbearer finally remembered Joseph. Joseph was summoned from prison and explained that Egypt would face seven years of abundance followed by seven years of severe famine.

Pharaoh recognized God's wisdom in Joseph and appointed him second in command over all of Egypt.

The pit led to the palace.

The prison led to promotion.

The years of hardship prepared him for years of responsibility.

Then the famine arrived, and eventually, Joseph's brothers stood before him.

The very men who had betrayed him.

The very men who had changed the course of his life.

Though they did not recognize him, Joseph knew who they were.

What strikes me is that Joseph did not immediately reveal himself. He tested them.

Not out of a desire for revenge, but because discernment is different from resentment.

Forgiveness does not require blind trust.

Joseph wanted to see if their character had changed. And it had.

The brothers who once sacrificed a sibling to save themselves were now willing to sacrifice themselves to save their youngest brother, Benjamin.

Repentance had taken root.

Healed people make different choices.

Only then did Joseph reveal his identity.

And instead of seeking revenge, he offered grace.

One of the most powerful verses in Scripture arises from this story:

"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives." — Genesis 50:20

What others intended for harm, God transformed into good. Joseph's journey not only spared his family from famine but also saved numerous lives in Egypt and neighboring regions.

Even the false accusation that put him in jail was part of God's plan.

Even the waiting.

Even the betrayal.

Even the injustice.

Nothing was in vain.

As I pondered Joseph's story this week, I couldn't help but consider the times in life when we wonder: "Why did this happen?"

Joseph probably asked that question in the pit. He likely asked it in prison. Yet years later, he was able to see the bigger picture.

Not every wound makes sense right away.

Not every betrayal quickly reveals its purpose.

Not every hardship comes with an explanation.

But often, God is orchestrating something much greater than we can currently perceive.

The lesson I am taking with me is this:

Trust the Author even when you're still in the middle chapters.

You do not yet know all the blessings that may emerge from this period.

You do not yet know all the people you will help because of what you have endured.

You do not yet know how your story of faith, healing, motherhood, perseverance, or growth will influence someone else's life.

But Joseph's story reminds us that God wastes nothing.

Not the pain.

Not the waiting.

Not the tears.

Sometimes God's greatest blessings come through doors we never would have chosen to enter ourselves. And sometimes the event we wish had never occurred becomes the very thing God uses to shape who we are becoming.