A Mornings with Tess Reflection
Beloved, I’ve been thinking about something we talked about recently on Mornings with Tess.
Sometimes suffering lasts long enough that it begins teaching us what to expect.
Another disappointment comes.
Another door closes.
Another prayer seems unanswered.
Another morning arrives and the situation hasn’t changed.
And almost without realizing it, yesterday’s pain begins predicting tomorrow.
Don’t get your hopes up.
Nothing is going to change.
This is probably how it will always be.
But what if pain was never meant to be our prophet?
Joseph Had a Dream Before He Had a Pit
I’ve been thinking about Joseph.
Before the pit, before slavery, before the false accusation, before prison—and before being forgotten in prison—Father gave Joseph a dream.
I’ve wondered about the timing of that.
Why give him the dream before all those terrible things happened?
Perhaps because Joseph would need something spoken by God that his circumstances could not explain away.
The pit said one thing.
The promise said another.
The prison said one thing.
The promise said another.
And Joseph eventually had to decide which voice was qualified to tell him how his story ended.
The pit did not get to become Joseph’s prophecy.
I wonder if someone reading this needs that sentence today.
Your present circumstances are real. Your pain is real. The disappointment is real.
But none of those things has been given authority to prophesy your future.
Suffering Can Train the Heart
Proverbs 13:12 tells us that hope deferred makes the heart sick.
I think sometimes we read that verse too quickly.
A heart can become tired from hoping.
After enough disappointment, protecting ourselves can begin to feel like wisdom.
I won’t expect anything, and then I won’t be disappointed.
Perhaps you recognize that. I do.
But there is a difference between wisdom and allowing yesterday’s wounds to determine what we believe is possible tomorrow.
The enemy would like suffering to teach us to expect more suffering.
But Father can gently teach a wounded heart to expect goodness again.
Not because we are pretending everything is fine.
Not because every story unfolds exactly as we would choose.
But because pain doesn’t know the end of our story.
Father does.
Jesus Received a Word Before the Wilderness Too
There is something else that amazes me.
Before Jesus entered the wilderness, He heard:
“This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
Then came the wilderness.
Hunger.
Testing.
Temptation.
And one of the first attacks concerned the very identity Father had just spoken:
If You are the Son of God…
Do you see it?
The wilderness tried to put a question mark where Father had already placed a period.
Jesus did not look at His hunger and conclude, Perhaps I am not beloved after all.
He allowed what Father had spoken to interpret the wilderness.
He did not allow the wilderness to reinterpret what Father had spoken.
That has become very precious to me.
I will interpret this season through His love.
I will not interpret His love through this season.
Beloved, sometimes what is happening around us is simply not a reliable interpreter of Father’s heart toward us.
Gratitude Sees Here. Hope Sees Ahead.
We’ve also talked on Mornings with Tess about the beautiful partnership between gratitude and hope.
Gratitude looks around and says:
There is goodness here.
Hope looks ahead and says:
There is goodness coming.
Maybe today you can only find one small piece of evidence of goodness.
That’s enough to begin.
You don’t have to manufacture enormous faith.
You don’t have to pretend you aren’t tired.
You don’t have to deny what hurts.
Perhaps today we simply refuse to give our pain a position it was never meant to occupy.
Pain may speak.
But pain does not get the final word.
Something to Sit With
If suffering has quietly trained your heart to expect disappointment, perhaps bring that wounded expectation to Father.
You might simply pray:
Father, my heart has learned some things through pain that I don’t know if You ever intended to teach me.
Show me where yesterday has been predicting tomorrow.
Heal the places in me that are afraid to hope.
Teach my heart to expect Your goodness again.
And then perhaps hold onto this:
Don’t let your pain become your prophet.
Joseph’s pit didn’t get to prophesy Joseph’s future.
The prison didn’t either.
There was an after Joseph couldn’t yet see.
And beloved, wherever you are today, your present chapter is not qualified to declare that there isn’t an after for you too.
We’ll keep talking about these things together on Mornings with Tess.
Until then, may Father gently teach our hearts to recognize the goodness that is already here and to hope again for the goodness we cannot see yet.
