Part 3 of 4 in the "Shattered Dreams" Series
“When we want to be something other than the thing God wants us to be, we must be wanting what, in fact, will not make us happy.”
— C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain
Rarely does life unfold according to our plans. More often, it pushes us into unexpected places—places we never intended to go and can’t escape. The dreams we once held slip away as we grapple with the reality before us.
Joseph, a man familiar with shattered dreams, comes to mind. While we often think of Joseph from the Old Testament—sold into slavery, falsely accused, and imprisoned—I want to shift our focus to another Joseph: the husband of Mary and earthly father of Jesus. Though often overshadowed by other figures in the Christmas story, Joseph’s journey reveals the pain of broken dreams and the beauty of God’s greater purpose.
In Matthew 1:19, we read:
“Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly” (NIV).
This brief description—“a righteous man”—tells us much about Joseph. To us, righteousness might mean morality or religiosity, a good person striving to live out their faith. But for a Jew of Joseph’s time, it meant something deeper: a love for the Torah, God’s Law. Joseph wasn’t a Pharisee or a scholar; he was an ordinary, hardworking man raised to honor and study the Law. His righteousness positioned him for respect in his community, perhaps even a future as an elder—a common dream for men in his culture.
But then came the shattering moment: his young fiancĂ©e, Mary, revealed she was pregnant. Joseph knew the child wasn’t his, and her claim of a divine conception likely sounded unbelievable. In his mind, there was only one conclusion—unfaithfulness. According to the Torah he loved, unfaithfulness warranted death by stoning. As a righteous man, Joseph could have demanded justice. Yet he didn’t.
The NIV translation suggests it was because of his righteousness that Joseph sought to divorce Mary quietly, sparing her public disgrace. But I propose a different reading: although he was righteous, he chose mercy. His devotion to the Law pulled him toward justice, but a greater force—love—held him back. Joseph loved Mary. Despite believing she had betrayed him, he couldn’t bear to see her suffer.
We know little about their relationship. Jewish betrothal was far more binding than a modern engagement, but how well they knew each other remains unclear. What’s certain is that Joseph had chosen to love Mary. As he prepared a home for them, he dreamed of their life together—the family they’d build, the future they’d share. Now, those dreams lay in ruins.
Quietly divorcing Mary would have preserved her life and allowed Joseph to salvage his reputation as a righteous man. Marrying her, however, would destroy it. In a small town like Nazareth, word of her pregnancy would spread. People would assume Joseph condoned her “sin” or was complicit in it. His business, his standing, his dream of being a respected Torah-lover—all would crumble.
Then God intervened. An angel appeared to Joseph, confirming Mary’s story and urging him to take her as his wife. This divine call demanded the very choice that would obliterate Joseph’s dreams. Why didn’t God send the angel sooner—perhaps the same night Gabriel visited Mary? Perhaps God wanted Joseph to wrestle with the cost. To marry Mary meant sacrificing his reputation, his livelihood, and his place in the community. It was a decision that required him to choose between his dreams and God’s will.
God’s dream for Joseph wasn’t a life of outward righteousness or communal respect. It was far greater: to raise and teach the Messiah. Joseph became Jesus’ primary example of love and integrity. Imagine the whispers he endured—about Mary’s supposed adultery, about Jesus not being his son. Imagine the struggle to find work as a “disgraced” man. Yet through it all, Joseph modeled love and obedience, even when it cost him everything. Jesus grew up watching this, learning from a father who chose God’s way over his own.
Joseph’s dreams shattered when Mary announced her pregnancy. Accepting God’s plan didn’t make his life easier—it brought hardship and scorn—but it made it better. Joseph traded a dream of reputation for an influence he couldn’t fully grasp in his lifetime. His impact on Jesus, and thus the world, echoes into eternity, though he likely never saw its fullness this side of heaven.
Our dreams, even the noble ones, can blind us to God’s purpose. When we cling to them, we miss the life we were created for. Like Joseph, we must let our dreams shatter to embrace God’s greater vision. Only then do we discover true fulfillment—not fully in this life, but certainly when King Jesus returns and makes everything right.
Stay tuned for Part 4 in the "Shattered Dreams" series as we continue exploring how God’s plan transforms our understanding of life and fulfillment.