If you’ve ever felt like your life was a bit of a mess, like your story had more false starts and failures than you care to admit, then you’re in good company. The Bible is full of people who started in the pit but ended in the palace, and Joseph’s story might be the most compelling of them all. His journey—from favored son to slave, prisoner to prime minister—reminds us that God can take our messiest beginnings and turn them into miraculous endings.

Joseph was just seventeen when God gave him dreams of greatness. But instead of treasuring those promises, he blurted them out to his brothers in a way that only stoked their jealousy. And it’s no wonder—who wants to hear their younger sibling brag about how one day they’ll bow down to him? Joseph had the right promise but the wrong approach. Immaturity often causes us to mishandle the very things God has entrusted to us.

Mary, the mother of Jesus, provides a striking contrast. When she received an earth-shattering promise from God—that she would bear the Son of God—she didn’t run around announcing it. Instead, Scripture tells us that she “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” Sometimes, the best response to God’s promises is not to proclaim but to ponder.

Many of us have heard God whisper dreams into our hearts. Maybe it’s a calling, a purpose, a direction. But before we run ahead, Joseph’s story teaches us a crucial lesson: wisdom and maturity matter. Just because God gives us a glimpse of the future doesn’t mean we are ready for it yet. The dreams are real, but so is the process of preparation. And that process is often long, winding, and—if we’re honest—a little painful.

Years after Joseph’s youthful missteps, we find him in a new season of testing—one of intense temptation. Sold into slavery and working in the house of an Egyptian official named Potiphar, Joseph caught the eye of Potiphar’s wife. Day after day, she tried to seduce him. And day after day, Joseph said no.

This wasn’t just about personal integrity; Joseph saw sin for what it really was—an offense against both man and God. He didn’t flirt with the temptation, didn’t rationalize it, didn’t try to see how close he could get without falling. Instead, he ran. Literally.

The Bible doesn’t tell us to stand our ground against sexual temptation. It tells us to flee—as in, get out of there, fast. Some battles aren’t meant to be fought; they’re meant to be escaped.

It makes me wonder: What’s the temptation in your life that you’ve been trying to “manage” when God is telling you to run? What situation, habit, or relationship is pulling you away from God’s best for you? The time to create distance isn’t after you’ve fallen—it’s now.

By the time Joseph reached thirty, he had been humbled, tested, and refined. He had spent years as a prisoner before suddenly being elevated to the second most powerful position in Egypt. And in that moment, he faced a new challenge: how would he use his influence? Would he seek revenge? Would he finally make his brothers pay for what they did?

Joseph chose something different. He used his power to save, not to settle scores. He managed Egypt’s resources wisely during a famine, ensuring that countless people—including his own family—were spared from starvation. He forgave the very brothers who had sold him into slavery, saying, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”

This is what godly leadership looks like. Influence is never for our own gain. It’s a tool to serve, bless, and rescue others. Whether you’re leading a family, a team, a business, or a ministry, the question remains: are you using your influence to build yourself up or to lift others?

Joseph’s story is an invitation to reflect on our own lives. How are we handling God’s promises? Are we stewarding them with humility, or rushing ahead in arrogance? Are we resisting temptation, or entertaining it? And are we using our influence to bring healing and hope, or to settle personal scores?

Think about how you’d answer these questions this week. Ask God to search your heart.

God is always at work in the messy middle of our stories. You may not see the ending yet, but take heart—Joseph didn’t either when he was sitting in that prison cell. The same God who took a boastful teenager and shaped him into a wise leader is the God who is shaping you. Keep trusting. Keep growing. The ending will be worth it.

I love being your pastor—

Brady

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The story of Moses teaches us powerful lessons about God’s presence, protection, and purpose in our lives. Through examining key moments in Moses’ journey, we discover timeless truths about how God works in and through ordinary people to accomplish extraordinary things.

Let me start here: From the beginning of Moses’ story, women played crucial roles as defenders of life and agents of God’s plan. Think of it: The Hebrew midwives valiantly defied Pharaoh’s orders to kill male babies. Moses’ mother and sister bravely orchestrated his rescue in a manner that could have gotten them killed. Another woman, Pharaoh’s daughter, saved and adopted Moses as her own. We see demonstrated in these accounts how God often works through those society considers “less than” to accomplish his good purposes.

That’s good news!

It’s good news for those of us who tend to feel like we are more of a liability than an asset in so many aspects of life, and it’s good news for those in our society who have been more overtly cast aside. God loves you. He loves me. He is committed to growing us up. And he’s eager to working through us every step of the way.

We also see in Moses’ story the truth that every life has infinite worth to God. Men matter to God. Women matter to God. And even in cultures where they are treated poorly, babies matter deeply to God.  The Hebrew midwives risked their lives to save babies. Moses’ mother refused to let her son die. God orchestrated an elaborate rescue plan to save one baby, and one baby, alone. No, there are no “throwaway” lives in God’s kingdom. Every person bears his image and has inherent dignity and value.

I tell you all that by way of context: against the backdrop of all this evidence that people matter to God, we find one man coming into God’s stunning presence courtesy of a bush aflame that was not burned up. Moses was enduring a wilderness season in his life when God revealed himself personally to Moses, but that wilderness became holy ground when Moses chose to engage.

The same is true for us: Our wilderness seasons, though often ridiculously difficult and confusing, can become places of divine encounter when we remain open to who God is and to what God hopes to do in and through our lives. Above all else, Moses learned the lesson that you and I can catch today: God’s presence is essential, if we hope to do anything effective in life.

Moses refused to move forward without the presence of God accompanying him. Not a bad approach to life.

This week, take a few minutes to consider:

In which aspect(s) of life are you experiencing a “wilderness” season? Relationally? Spiritually? Financially? Occupationally? Something else?

How aware are you of God’s presence in your daily life?

What distinguishes you as a follower of Christ?

Set aside dedicated time each day this week to simply be in God’s presence. Don’t ask for anything. Just be still and acknowledge his presence there with you. Ask him to make himself known to you. Listen for his still, small voice. Rest in his goodness, his grace. And live differently, as a result.

I love being your pastor—

Pastor Brady