The Power of Prayer in a Hustle-Driven World

In today’s relentless rush, life feels like a treadmill set to sprint. We chase success, juggle endless responsibilities, and measure our worth by what we achieve. Work, family, and social demands pull us in every direction, and in this storm of hustle, one simple practice often slips away: prayer.

R. A. Torrey, in his classic work The Power of Prayer, saw this coming. “We do not live in a praying age,” he wrote. “We live in an age of hustle and bustle, of man’s efforts and man’s determination, of man’s confidence in himself and in his own power to achieve things.” He described a world driven by human machinery and ambition—a world where trusting God’s power feels like a relic. If anything, his words hit harder now, as our culture doubles down on self-reliance.

So why does prayer still matter? It’s not a magic fix or a wishlist for God to rubber-stamp. Prayer is a lifeline—a moment of raw connection where we lay down our pride and seek divine wisdom. When we pause to pray, we admit we don’t have it all figured out. We invite God to guide us through life’s chaos, trusting His perspective over our plans.

But prayer isn’t just personal. It’s a bridge to others. When we lift up a friend in crisis, a family member in need, or even a stranger we’ll never meet, we step outside ourselves. We carry their burdens to God, asking for His grace to touch their lives. In a me-first world, this act of intercession is quietly radical—a rebellion against selfishness dressed up as love.

Our society celebrates the grind: the promotions, the accolades, the packed schedules. Prayer flips that script. It whispers that true worth isn’t in what we do, but in who we are—children of God, called to faith and compassion. When we stop to pray, we trade the noise of ambition for something eternal. We realign with what lasts: our bond with God and the people He’s placed around us.

Torrey’s warning doesn’t have to be our story. We can choose differently. By weaving prayer into our days—whether in a quiet morning moment or a whispered plea amid the storm—we tap into God’s strength. We find peace for ourselves and pour it out for others. In an age that idolizes effort, prayer is our defiance: a reminder that real power doesn’t come from us, but from Him.

So let’s reclaim it. Let’s step off the treadmill, look beyond the grind, and rediscover the stillness where God waits. In prayer, we don’t just find answers—we find purpose. And that’s a victory no hustle can touch.

Do You Believe God Is a Good Father?

It’s easy to answer “yes” when someone asks if you believe God is a good Father. It’s the “right” answer, after all. 

But if I’m honest, my life often tells a different story. 

Too often, I it feels like God is opposed to my desires—as if He is detached or uninterested in my well-being.

John Eldredge wrote in The Way of the Wild Heart:

“You are the son of a kind, strong, and engaged Father, a Father wise enough to guide you in the Way, generous enough to provide for your journey, offering to walk with you every step.

This is perhaps the hardest thing for us to believe—really believe, down deep in our hearts, so that it changes us forever, changes the way we approach each day.”

Eldredge’s words remind me of a truth that I forget: God is my Heavenly Father. 

I have no problem with seeing God as Creator or King, but I often struggle to see Him as Father. I think this is why it is hard for me to trust that God has my best interests at heart. 

What ends up happening, since I don’t trust God to do what is right,  is I slip into believing that I have to make life work on my own—that my happiness depends entirely on me. This reality ultimately leads to a life of disappointment because I don’t have what it takes to create a life that I truly want to live.

So how do we trust God to do the right thing? How can we learn to see Him as the loving Father He truly is?

Two Ways to Deepen Our Trust in God as Father

1. Memorize Scripture About God as Our Father

The Bible repeatedly describes God as our Father, and it’s no coincidence that Jesus often used this imagery when he talked about God. Jesus knew how difficult it would be for us to grasp the concept of God as a loving and engaged father.

One passage that speaks to this is Luke 11:11-13:

“What father among you, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead of a fish? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, although you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

The only way I know to get this truth into our hearts is to turn to Scripture and meditate on these passages that emphasize God’s goodness. The more we meditate on these verses the more likely they will be implanted into our hearts.

2. Reflect on the Blessings in Your Life

It’s easy to take God’s blessings for granted, to believe that God owes me the good things of life. What happens, when things don’t go the way I want, leads me to question His goodness—and even His presence in my life.

I believe taking time to “count our blessings” can reframe our perspective. It has worked on in my life. Simply taking time to write down 3 or 4 blessings each day has changed my perspective on life. When we reflect on how God has worked in our lives, we’re reminded of His faithfulness.

It is also important to remember that God’s greatest blessings aren’t tied to this life. When we can see the ways He has blessed our lives now, this gives us confidence that He will bless us in the future. God’s ultimate plan is for eternity, and He uses our current experiences to prepare us for the joys of heaven. Sometimes, this preparation means letting go of our own dreams to embrace His purpose for our lives.

Trusting God as Our Heavenly Father

Learning to trust God as our Father isn’t easy, but it’s essential to truly follow Jesus. If we can’t trust God, who can we trust?

God is kind, strong, and engaged. He is guiding us, providing for us, and walking with us every step of the way. I pray that we open our hearts to believe this truth—not just intellectually, but deeply and fully in our hearts, so that it changes the way we live.

Take a moment today to reflect on God’s love and goodness. He is a good Father—and He desires what is best for you.

Marriage: The Power of Partnership

Marriage is the deepest connection people experience—a relationship grounded in love, respect, and unshakable support. When two people say “I do,” they’re not just exchanging vows; they’re starting a shared adventure. They promise to face life’s peaks and valleys side by side, building something together that neither could achieve alone.

William Barclay, in DSB: The Letters to the Corinthians, puts it perfectly: “Marriage is a partnership. The husband cannot act independently of the wife, nor the wife of the husband. They must always act together.” 

Barclay’s words cut through the reality of modern life, reminding us that marriage isn’t a solo performance—it’s a duet. Marriage flourishes when both husband and wife move in sync, and not when one overshadows the other.

A Countercultural Commitment

In a culture that glorifies independence and self-reliance, we’re constantly told: “Be your own hero. You don’t need anyone else.” And while there’s truth in developing your individual character and potential, marriage reminds us there is more to the story.

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Marriage is not about what one person can achieve alone—it is about what two can accomplish together. A marriage built on one partner’s efforts is like a house with half a foundation; it might stand for a while, but it won’t weather the storms.

What Partnership Really Looks Like

So, what does real partnership look like? 

It’s in the daily grind of responsibilities and plans that require making decisions as a team. These decisions involve money, kids, decorations, gifts, and vacations. It is found in lifting each other up when life gets heavy—cheering the victories of one another and cushioning the inevitable falls. This partnership is seen in sharing the load, from the daily chores to accomplishing dreams, knowing the strength of “us” hinges is greater than the strength of the individual.

But this partnership runs deeper than practicalities. It is also about respect—truly listening to each other, even when there is a disagreement. It’s about vulnerability—opening up with your heart, hoping the other person sees you for who you are. 

Picture a marriage where both the wife and the husband hear each other out, able to speak honestly, and wrestle through the hard stuff together. That is not just a relationship; that is life at its best.

Not Roommates, But Teammates

Barclay’s wisdom isn’t some outdated ideal—it’s a challenge. 

Marriage isn’t two people living separate lives under one roof, acting more like roommates than a loving husband and wife. It’s about weaving those two lives into something tougher, richer, and more life-giving. For those who follow Jesus this includes weaving into the marriage the third strand of God. When couples embrace this—uniting as a team, valuing each other’s voices, sharing the burden, and living by faith—they don’t just endure. They shine.

The Takeaway

A great marriage isn’t built by one superstar and a sidekick. It’s forged by two partners, equally invested, equally committed, and equally surrendered to Jesus.

Love isn’t the finish line—it’s the fuel. And with it, you can create a marriage that doesn’t just last, but lights up the world around you.

The Life We Imagine vs. The Life God Offers

We all carry a picture in our minds of what life should be. 

For some, it’s a sprawling mansion on a hill, bank accounts overflowing with millions, and every desire within reach. 

For others, it’s simpler—a cozy two-story home, a white picket fence, and a loving family to share it with. 

Still others envision a life of comfort and freedom, with just enough resources to live on their own terms. 

Every now and then, we catch a glimpse of that ideal, a fleeting moment where we sigh and say, “Now this is the life.”

But how often do we actually live the life we’ve imagined? And for those rare few who do, does it ever truly measure up to the dream?

For many of us, the life we are living feels like a letdown. It is not the life we imagined, and the gap between our reality and our dreams breeds frustration. To cope, we tell ourselves this is just how life is supposed to be and that life will always be a grind. We clench our fists, grit our teeth, and mutter, “Life is hard. It is full of disappointments and struggle. That’s just the way it is.” 

There is some truth in this thought—hardship is real—but I can’t help but wonder if that mindset sets us up to miss something bigger, something better: the life God actually created us to experience.

I’m not saying a life with God erases difficulties. Struggles will always be part of the journey. 

Imagine for a moment: What if there’s a kind of life that doesn’t just endure those challenges, but actually redeems them?

The Apostle John offers us an insight into what a life with God is like:

“So you must remain faithful to what you have been taught from the beginning. If you do, you will remain in fellowship with the Son and with the Father. And in this fellowship we enjoy the eternal life he promised us” (1 John 2:24-25, NLT).

Two crucial truths stand out in this passage, and they’re as relevant today as they were two millennia ago.

First: Life flows from obedience. Do you want to experience the life God has for you? It starts with following Jesus. Real life isn’t unlocked by believing the right doctrines or checking spiritual boxes—it’s discovered in trusting Jesus. Loving God, loving our neighbors, serving sacrificially, and giving generously—these aren’t just nice ideas. This is what true life looks like. Bible studies and church gatherings are vital, but they’re only the beginning. The life God promises takes shape when we take what we’ve learned and put it into practice.

Second: Life is fellowship with God. Without Jesus—and by extension, without the Father—true life remains out of reach. It’s in abiding with Him that we find it. John ties fellowship directly to obedience. How we live determines whether we’re walking with God or drifting away. Make the decision align your life with Scripture, and you’ll find yourself in step with your Creator. If you choose to chase selfish desires, and you’ll stumble into emptiness.

John calls this type of life “eternal life.” The idea of “eternal life” deserves a closer look. Too often, we reduce “eternal” to a matter of time—life that stretches on forever. A long life isn’t inherently good. A mediocre or miserable life isn’t made wonderful simply by adding time to it. I believe “eternal life” isn’t just about duration—it’s about quality. It’s the richest, fullest, most meaningful life possible, and it’s only found in relationship with God.

I revised this post from one I wrote in 2006, nearly two decades ago, and I’m struck by how timeless and universal this tension feels. We are still dreaming of “the good life,” still experiencing the disappointment caused by sin, and still overlooking the redeemed life God has for his people. 

But God’s invitation hasn’t changed. The life He offers—true, redeemed, eternal—is still ours to step into. It’s not a fantasy on a hill or a fenced-in ideal. It’s a reality rooted in obedience and relationship, ready to transform even our hardest days.

So, what’s your picture of life? And how does it stack up to the one God’s holding out to you?

The Choices That Define Us—and the One That Redeems Us

Ever catch yourself replaying a moment you’d give anything to redo? 

I do it all the time. 

Things like: the sharp response you gave to your kids, the chance to talk about Jesus to a co-worker that you let slip away, the choice to walk away from faith and live a party lifestyle for a few years, or the chance to do something special that you let get away.

I think, to one degree or another, all of us have those mental reruns. But here’s the question I would like you to consider: what if our past blunders don’t get the final say over our future?

Every day, we’re creating who we’re becoming by the choices we make—big, small, impulsive, or deliberate. These choices ripple out, shaping not just us, but also our little corner of the world.  So what happens when we mess up? When we cave to temptation, chase selfish desires, or stumble into sin? Are we stuck with the fallout forever? 

The answer is a big NO! 

The story doesn’t end with our failures—because God has a part to play in our lives as well.

I think Erwin McManus nails it in Uprising: 

The future is the sum total of all the choices that are made in the present and the past. Fortunately, that sum total includes the choices made by God. (p. 237)

Think about that idea for a moment. God isn’t some cosmic spectator, arms crossed, watching us struggle. He’s in it with us, steering things in ways we might not even notice. Our wrong turns? They don’t faze Him. His choices can rewrite our trajectory when we’ve lost the way.

Romans 8:5-8 (CSB) lays it out clearly: 

For those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit have their minds set on the things of the Spirit. Now the mindset of the flesh is death, but the mindset of the Spirit is life and peace. The mindset of the flesh is hostile to God because it does not submit to God’s law. Indeed, it is unable to do so. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.

There is no doubt that when left to our own devices, we’re a mess. 

We can’t muscle our way into the life God has for us on sheer willpower. And that is okay!  

God doesn’t leave us in the chaos we created. He hands us His Spirit, His Word, His grace—everything we need to choose life over death.

And if you want proof of God’s wild commitment, Romans 5:6-11 (CSB) points us to the evidence: 

For while we were still helpless, at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly. For rarely will someone die for a just person — though for a good person perhaps someone might even dare to die. But God proves his own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. How much more then, since we have now been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from wrath. For if, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, then how much more, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life. And not only that, but we also boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received this reconciliation.

That’s not us earning our salvation. That’s God saying, “I’m all in—whether you’ve got it together or not.” He chose to rescue us, not because we’re impressive, but because He is love in action. 

The life and death of Jesus is the evidence we need to know that God is committed to us.

True, we can’t rewind the tape on yesterday’s mistakes. But we can choose to trust the choices God has already made for us. 

When we surrender to the guidance of the Holy Spirit, something changes. We’re not just fumbling through life on our own strength anymore—we’re being shaped by a God who has the power to redeem us, no matter who we are or what we have done. Our story isn’t a highlight reel of our screw-ups. It’s an amazing collaboration between our choices and His—a God who loves, restores, and refuses to let go.

What’s one choice you’re facing today? And what might it look like to let God’s voice weigh in?

Choosing the Right Path

 “I thought I didn’t have a choice about being the Batman. That Gotham City chose me to protect her. That is wrong. Ever since the night my parents were taken from me, I made the choice. It means that some of my heart’s desires may go unfulfilled… But many more are satisfied… It is a good choice.”

~ Bruce Wayne; Legends of the Dark Knight Halloween Special #1: Choices (Jeph Loeb, writer; Tim Sale, artist)

Life is filled with decisions, and the choices we make determine the direction our lives take. For Bruce Wayne, the choices he made led him to become Batman. While our choices might not lead to such a melodramatic lifestyle, they still profoundly shape what we do with our lives.

The choice to follow Jesus is one that will affect every area of our lives, much like Bruce Wayne’s decision to become Batman transformed every part of his life. The two are inseparable. To be a Christian is to surrender our entire lives to God’s will. Every action and every word is measured against the reality that we belong to God.

This surrender comes with its own sacrifices. Not all the desires of our hearts will be fulfilled. Sometimes, our desires can lead us away from God’s will and into sin. Other times, even good desires—relationships, comforts, ambitions—may be left behind to follow where God calls. Missionaries who leave behind friends, family, and familiar culture to share God’s love with the world exemplify this truth. To choose one path often means leaving other paths unexplored.

But the good life isn’t found in having all our desires met. It is found in giving ourselves to something far bigger than we are—something that makes a real difference in the world. That is why Jesus tells us that the life He offers is the full life (John 10:10). It isn’t full because every whim is satisfied. It is full because it leads to purpose, meaning, and fulfillment. Over time, as we walk with Jesus, we realize that many of our desires are fulfilled in unexpected ways—often desires we didn’t even know we had until God revealed them to us.

The Apostle Paul, reflecting on his life, wrote to Timothy near the end of his journey:

“As for me, my life has already been poured out as an offering to God. The time of my death is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful. And now the prize awaits me—the crown of righteousness that the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on the day of His return. And the prize is not just for me but for all who eagerly look forward to His glorious return.” (2 Timothy 4:6–8, NLT)

Paul looked back on a life of hardship—beatings, shipwrecks, imprisonment, and more—and declared, “I have no regrets.” For Paul, following Jesus was worth everything. The sacrifices, the challenges, and even the losses were insignificant compared to the joy of knowing God. His life had been good because it drew him closer to the Lord, and death was not an end but the next step in their relationship.

Being Batman is not easy for Bruce Wayne, but it is the path that leads to his greatest desire. Similarly, being a Christian is not easy, but it is the path that leads to our ultimate and deepest desire. It is a good choice.

Shattered Dreams: Far Too Easily Pleased

Part 4 of 4 in the “Shattered Dreams” Series

“We are halfhearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
— C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

What does God dream for us? If His vision holds the key to true joy, don’t we owe it to ourselves to uncover it? Yet, when our own dreams lie in ruins, how do we even start to see His?

It’s hard to imagine the life God created us to live because, as C. S. Lewis points out, “we are far too easily pleased.”This idea stings because it’s true. We cling to our small, fragile plans—chasing comfort, approval, control—while God holds out something vast and unshakable. Our shattered dreams, painful as they are, might just be the crack that lets His light in.

God doesn’t give us a checklist to decode His will. He’s not a vending machine for truth. History proves He meets us uniquely—molding His call to our quirks and stories. Still, Scripture lights the way. In John 13–17, we find five traits of the life He envisions, a dream that emerges when ours fall apart.

1. Servanthood Over Status

“And since I, the Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done” (John 13:14–15, NLT).

Jesus, the Lord of all, took a towel and washed grimy feet. He doesn’t want random acts of kindness—He calls us to live as servants. We dream of being catered to; God dreams of us stooping low to lift others up.

2. Love as Our Witness

“So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my friends” (John 13:34–35, NLT).

Jesus poured love on everyone, but it burned brightest among His disciples. This love starts with the church—our care for each other marks us as His. We dream of being adored; God dreams of us loving fiercely first.

3. Rooted in Jesus

“Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5, NLT).

On our own, we’re weak—tripping over our flaws. Jesus says we can’t live God’s dream without Him. Prayer, Scripture, worship, and community tether us to Him, pulling our eyes off ourselves. We dream of self-reliance; God dreams of us abiding in Jesus.

4. Guided by the Spirit

“When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not be presenting his own ideas; he will be telling you what he has heard” (John 16:13, NLT).

Voices clamor—logic, trends, temptation. Jesus heard them too, rejecting Satan’s deals and the crowd’s crown. We lean toward what’s sensible; God dreams of us tuning our ears to His Spirit.

5. United in Purpose

“My prayer for all of them is that they will be one, just as you and I are one, Father—that just as you are in me, and I am in you, so they will be in us, and the world will believe you sent me” (John 17:21, NLT).

Jesus’s mission flowed from His oneness with the Father—a unity He prays for us. We’re not meant to be lone rangers. We dream of standing apart; God dreams of us woven together in love and mission.

Shattered dreams sting—no denying it. But as Lewis saw, we’re too easily pleased with mud pies when God offers the sea. That pain can wake us up, exposing the flimsiness of our plans and pointing us to His eternal vision. When we chase God’s dream, we find the joy we’ve been groping for in the dark. Our brokenness isn’t the end—it’s the beginning of something bigger.

What’s one piece of God’s dream stirring in you now that you want to experience? Drop your thoughts—I’d love to hear.

Shattered Dreams: When Life Doesn’t Turn Out As Planned

Part 3 of 4 in the "Shattered Dreams" Series

“When we want to be something other than the thing God wants us to be, we must be wanting what, in fact, will not make us happy.”
— C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Rarely does life unfold according to our plans. More often, it pushes us into unexpected places—places we never intended to go and can’t escape. The dreams we once held slip away as we grapple with the reality before us.

Joseph, a man familiar with shattered dreams, comes to mind. While we often think of Joseph from the Old Testament—sold into slavery, falsely accused, and imprisoned—I want to shift our focus to another Joseph: the husband of Mary and earthly father of Jesus. Though often overshadowed by other figures in the Christmas story, Joseph’s journey reveals the pain of broken dreams and the beauty of God’s greater purpose.

In Matthew 1:19, we read:

“Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly” (NIV).

This brief description—“a righteous man”—tells us much about Joseph. To us, righteousness might mean morality or religiosity, a good person striving to live out their faith. But for a Jew of Joseph’s time, it meant something deeper: a love for the Torah, God’s Law. Joseph wasn’t a Pharisee or a scholar; he was an ordinary, hardworking man raised to honor and study the Law. His righteousness positioned him for respect in his community, perhaps even a future as an elder—a common dream for men in his culture.

But then came the shattering moment: his young fiancée, Mary, revealed she was pregnant. Joseph knew the child wasn’t his, and her claim of a divine conception likely sounded unbelievable. In his mind, there was only one conclusion—unfaithfulness. According to the Torah he loved, unfaithfulness warranted death by stoning. As a righteous man, Joseph could have demanded justice. Yet he didn’t.

The NIV translation suggests it was because of his righteousness that Joseph sought to divorce Mary quietly, sparing her public disgrace. But I propose a different reading: although he was righteous, he chose mercy. His devotion to the Law pulled him toward justice, but a greater force—love—held him back. Joseph loved Mary. Despite believing she had betrayed him, he couldn’t bear to see her suffer.

We know little about their relationship. Jewish betrothal was far more binding than a modern engagement, but how well they knew each other remains unclear. What’s certain is that Joseph had chosen to love Mary. As he prepared a home for them, he dreamed of their life together—the family they’d build, the future they’d share. Now, those dreams lay in ruins.

Quietly divorcing Mary would have preserved her life and allowed Joseph to salvage his reputation as a righteous man. Marrying her, however, would destroy it. In a small town like Nazareth, word of her pregnancy would spread. People would assume Joseph condoned her “sin” or was complicit in it. His business, his standing, his dream of being a respected Torah-lover—all would crumble.

Then God intervened. An angel appeared to Joseph, confirming Mary’s story and urging him to take her as his wife. This divine call demanded the very choice that would obliterate Joseph’s dreams. Why didn’t God send the angel sooner—perhaps the same night Gabriel visited Mary? Perhaps God wanted Joseph to wrestle with the cost. To marry Mary meant sacrificing his reputation, his livelihood, and his place in the community. It was a decision that required him to choose between his dreams and God’s will.

God’s dream for Joseph wasn’t a life of outward righteousness or communal respect. It was far greater: to raise and teach the Messiah. Joseph became Jesus’ primary example of love and integrity. Imagine the whispers he endured—about Mary’s supposed adultery, about Jesus not being his son. Imagine the struggle to find work as a “disgraced” man. Yet through it all, Joseph modeled love and obedience, even when it cost him everything. Jesus grew up watching this, learning from a father who chose God’s way over his own.

Joseph’s dreams shattered when Mary announced her pregnancy. Accepting God’s plan didn’t make his life easier—it brought hardship and scorn—but it made it better. Joseph traded a dream of reputation for an influence he couldn’t fully grasp in his lifetime. His impact on Jesus, and thus the world, echoes into eternity, though he likely never saw its fullness this side of heaven.

Our dreams, even the noble ones, can blind us to God’s purpose. When we cling to them, we miss the life we were created for. Like Joseph, we must let our dreams shatter to embrace God’s greater vision. Only then do we discover true fulfillment—not fully in this life, but certainly when King Jesus returns and makes everything right.

Stay tuned for Part 4 in the "Shattered Dreams" series as we continue exploring how God’s plan transforms our understanding of life and fulfillment.

Shattered Dreams: The Megaphone of Pain

Part 2 of 4 in the "Shattered Dreams" Series

“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
~ C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Shattered dreams cut deep. The collapse of a marriage, the loss of a cherished job, the forced move from a beloved home, or the sting of rejection from someone you love—these aren’t just setbacks. They’re wounds that pierce the heart. When our dreams break apart, we feel the ache in our bones.

We despise pain, don’t we? Whether it’s physical or emotional, it’s an unwelcome guest—throbbing, relentless, impossible to ignore. We might escape it for a fleeting moment, but it always creeps back. Life, we tell ourselves, would be better without it. Yet pain isn’t just an intruder; it’s a signal.

Consider Ashlyn Blocker, now a young adult living with a rare condition called CIPA (congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis). As a child, she couldn’t feel pain—she once ran on a fractured ankle for days without noticing, and her parents found her with bloody lips from teething, unaware of the damage. Now in her twenties, Ashlyn still faces the challenges of a life without pain’s warnings. She might burn herself on a hot stove or miss a serious injury, relying on others to spot the danger.

Pain, as harsh as it is, alerts us when something’s wrong. Without it, we’d miss the cues that our bodies—or our lives—need attention.

Pain as a Signal

Emotional pain works the same way. It screams that things aren’t as they should be. We live in a broken world, where sin and death guarantee pain as a companion. It’s a reminder we’re not in Heaven yet.

And here’s the twist: God uses that pain to wake us up. C.S. Lewis called it His megaphone, a loud call to look beyond our own plans. We get so fixated on our dreams—our perfect job, our ideal family—that we miss the life God envisions for us. Pain, messy as it is, pulls our eyes upward.

But let’s be honest: understanding pain’s purpose doesn’t make it easier to bear. When agony hits, we wonder why a loving God stays silent. If we saw someone we loved hurting, we’d rush to fix it. God could erase our pain—yet often He doesn’t. That silence stings. Does He even get it? Does He know the loneliness, the sorrow, the weight of a shattered dream?

The God Who Understands

He does. Jesus proves it. The Son of God didn’t float above pain—He walked through it. Rejection by His own people, brutal beatings, the agony of the cross—Jesus felt it all. And God the Father? He endured the gut-wrenching tear in the Trinity’s fellowship as Jesus bore our sin. The cross isn’t just a story of redemption; it’s a loud declaration that God understands suffering.

Still, in our pain, God can feel distant. That’s when we need to cling to what Jesus shows us: God cares. Without that truth, the weight of broken dreams crushes us. With it, we can endure more than we ever imagined—just look at the countless Christians through history who faced persecution and martyrdom, sustained by certainty in God’s love.

Shattered dreams don’t mean God’s abandoned us. They’re a chance to see how fragile our plans are—and how much greater His are. Pain isn’t evidence of God’s indifference; it’s a sign this world isn’t our final home.

So, if your dreams lie in pieces today, listen through the hurt. God’s shouting something worth hearing.

Next time, we’ll explore how to grieve what’s lost while reaching for what’s ahead.

For now, what’s one way pain has redirected your focus? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

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Stay tuned for Part 3 in the "Shattered Dreams" series as we continue exploring how God’s plan transforms our understanding of life and fulfillment.