The Turning Point I Can’t Yet See

Some days I feel stuck in the middle.
Between what I prayed for and what is.
Between the heartbreak and the healing.
Between the promise and the “But God…” moment.

I read stories in Scripture where everything shifts in a single verse.
Like Joseph — who was betrayed, abandoned, forgotten.
And yet one day, he looks back on it all and says:
“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good…” (Genesis 50:20)

I long for that clarity.
That redemptive hindsight.
That moment when the pain finally makes sense.

But I’m not there yet.
I’m still standing in the stretch.
Still aching for the shift.
Still wondering when the turn will come.

And still —
I’m choosing to believe in a God who works behind the scenes,
who writes stories that take time,
who brings beauty even from broken things.

The turning point may not have come yet.
But it’s not gone.
And my story isn’t finished.

He’s still writing.

When Restoration Looks Different

Today my mom shared a verse with me:
“I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten.”
— Joel 2:25

I’ve been thinking about what restoration really means.

I used to imagine it as getting back exactly what was lost —
like God would hand me the same dream,
only without the heartbreak attached.

But the more I sit with this,
the more I realize restoration often looks different than we expect.

It doesn’t always come as a perfect rewind.
It comes as something new.
Something reshaped by the breaking,
stronger because of what it’s been through.

Sometimes, it’s quieter than I imagined.
Sometimes, it’s not even in the same form.
And sometimes, it comes so slowly
I don’t recognize it until I’m already standing in it.

God doesn’t restore by replacing.
He restores by redeeming.

The years that felt wasted,
the dreams that felt devoured —
they may not come back the way I pictured.
But they will come back.

Not because I know how,
but because He promised they would.