Joy in the Waiting:
What He Knew in the Pit Before the Palace
He had a dream.
Not just any dream—one that set the course of his life on a collision course with delay, betrayal, and the kind of pain that makes you question everything you thought God said.
He saw sheaves bowing. Stars bending.
A future full of favor.
And then—
A pit.
A sale.
A lie.
A prison.
Thirteen years passed between the dream and the throne.
Thirteen years of silence. Of being forgotten. Of watching everyone else move forward while he stayed stuck.
But Joseph didn’t let go of what God had said.
And just as important—he didn’t let go of joy.
Not a cheap grin.
Not toxic positivity.
But a deep-seated trust that even here—yes, even here—God was working a story bigger than the pain.
In Potiphar’s house, Joseph served with excellence.
In prison, he interpreted dreams for others when his own seemed shattered.
At every stop in the delay, he showed up.
Why?
Because he carried something stronger than cynicism.
Joy.
Not the kind that comes after the breakthrough, but the kind that brings you through the breakdown.
Joy is not about pretending.
It’s about perceiving.
Joseph knew the delay wasn’t denial.
He knew the waiting wasn’t wasted.
And when Pharaoh’s call came—
When the promotion finally arrived—
Joseph wasn’t bitter. He was ready.
Because the promise hadn’t just survived the prison.
It had grown stronger there.
Later, he would say to his brothers—the very ones who sold him:
“You meant it for evil.
But God meant it for good.”
That’s not a line you write unless you’ve walked with joy in the dark.
Joy is how you steward the promise when it feels furthest away.
It’s how you stay soft in betrayal.
How you stay faithful in obscurity.
How you keep showing up when no one’s watching.
This is what the life of Joseph teaches us:
The dream will come to pass.
But who you become in the process is just as important as what you’ve seen.
Joy isn’t the reward for those who make it.
It’s the strength of those who don’t quit.
And Joseph?
He didn’t quit.
He held the dream.
And the dream held him.
If you’re waiting—don’t waste the wait.
If you’re stuck—don’t surrender your song.
Let joy rise.
The kind born of faith.
The kind that sings in prisons.
The kind that holds the dream… even before the crown.
Because with God, the pit is never the end of the story.
It’s just the place where joy begins to bloom.