Faith in Hard Times: When the Dream Becomes a Nightmare

When the Dream Becomes a Nightmare

Numbers 11:23

"The Lord answered Moses, 'Is the Lord's arm too short? Now you will see whether or not what I say will come true for you.'"

We found the property on a Tuesday.

Eight hundred thousand dollars. Way out of our budget. But we walked it anyway. The owners happened to be there, which never happens. We talked. No realtors. Just a conversation and a handshake and a prayer: God, if this is your will, let it happen.

Six weeks later we had the keys. Creative financing. Impossible timing. A god-sized dream fulfilled.

Then everything broke.

I mean everything. The property was old, and within that first year anything that could go wrong did. Furnaces. Plumbing. Electrical. And then, almost overnight, our donors stopped giving. Not a slow decline. A cliff. I'm talking disconnect notices on the power bill. That kind of dried up.

The dream became a nightmare.

I sat with my dad at a coffee shop the day before we were supposed to sign the mortgage papers. I told him I thought we should walk away. Move the ministry back to a smaller location. Cut our losses. We prayed. Felt like the Lord said no. Trust me.

The next morning there was a massive snowstorm. We drove through it to meet the mortgage broker at a hotel. And with fear and confusion and a knot in my stomach, I signed the papers. Locked in. Five-year balloon. No idea how we'd make it work.

A few days later, finances still hadn't improved. I was walking the property, stressed out of my mind, when I saw the previous owner's beat-up station wagon coming up the hill. This guy had money but you'd never know it. Cheap jeans. Old cars. Faithful with every dollar.

He got out, walked over to me, and said, "Justin, the Lord told me to tithe on the sale of this property."

He handed me an envelope.

It was the largest single check our ministry had ever received.

I broke down. Right there on the hill. Couldn't hold it together.

Here's what I learned in that season: the dream becoming a nightmare doesn't mean God is done. It doesn't mean he forgot. It doesn't mean you heard wrong.

Moses had a similar moment. He'd led the Israelites out of Egypt. Watched God part the sea. Saw manna fall from heaven every morning. And then the people started complaining. They wanted meat. They missed the food from Egypt. Never mind that Egypt was slavery. They wanted cucumbers and onions and garlic.

Moses lost it. Went to God and said, essentially, just kill me now. I can't carry these people anymore. This is too heavy.

God's response wasn't rebuke. It was a question: "Is my arm too short?"

Then he sent quail. So much quail the scripture says it piled up three feet off the ground. Bushels of it. More than they could eat. Until it came out of their nostrils.

That's our God. Not just enough. Overwhelming.

I think about that question when the dream looks like a nightmare. When the business you launched in January 2020 watched the world shut down three months later. When the marriage you prayed for turns hard. When the ministry you built starts bleeding out. When the answer to prayer creates more problems than it solved.

Is his arm too short?

He's big enough to bring your prodigal home. Big enough to break the addiction. Big enough to reconcile the relationship. Big enough to resurrect the dream that looks dead.

The nightmare isn't the end of the story. Sometimes it's the setup for the envelope.

Pray through. He's not done yet.