--- Stuck Between Floors
Have you ever been stuck in an elevator?
Not falling.
Not crashing.
Just… stuck.
The doors won’t open. The buttons don’t respond. Time stretches. And the fear doesn’t come because something is happening — it comes because nothing is happening.
You’re trapped between floors, unable to move forward or backward, wondering whether pressing another button will make things worse.
That feeling — that suspended, helpless waiting — is familiar to a lot of people of faith.
They’re not rebelling.
They’re not walking away.
They’re not abandoning belief.
They’re just… stuck.
They love God.
They believe.
But they’re afraid to move.
Afraid of pressing the wrong button.
Afraid of choosing the wrong direction.
Afraid that one bad decision might ruin everything.
So they wait.
And fear of decisions leads to progress paralysis.
There is a quiet fear that lives beneath a lot of sincere faith. It doesn’t announce itself loudly. It doesn’t show up as rebellion. It doesn’t even look like doubt. It shows up as hesitation.
The fear that if I choose wrong, I might derail God’s plan for my life.
The fear that God has a very specific will, and if I miss it—even slightly—I may never recover.
The fear that one wrong turn could permanently alter my destiny.
So we pray — but we don’t move.
We ask for clarity — but avoid action.
We call it wisdom.
We call it discernment.
We call it “waiting on the Lord.”
But often, underneath it all, it’s fear.
And that fear shapes how people relate to God.
They hesitate to pray boldly because they’re not sure it’s God’s will.
They second-guess decisions long after they’re made.
They replay the past wondering if they already missed their moment.
Sometimes, if we’re honest, that fear turns into a quiet suspicion about God’s goodness.
If everything is already decided, why do my choices matter?
If my choices matter, why does God already know the outcome?
And how can God be loving if one mistake could ruin everything?
Those are not rebellious questions.
They are human questions.
And Scripture does not dismiss them.
But it also does not answer them with philosophy.
One of the oldest debates in Christianity grows out of these fears. It’s been argued for nearly two thousand years, usually framed as predestination versus free will.
On one side are those who say God has already decided everything — who will be saved, who won’t, and how history will unfold.
On the other side are those who say human beings have real freedom to choose, and those choices truly matter.
Each side has its favorite verses.
Each side has its champions.
Each side has been convinced the other side is dangerous.
For most people sitting in church, this isn’t an abstract debate.
It’s personal.
It shows up when you’re facing a decision and wondering, What if this isn’t God’s will?
It shows up when you’re afraid to act because you want guarantees first.
It shows up when you’re stuck between floors, unsure whether movement will help or hurt.
What Scripture shows us — again and again — is that God’s will is not fragile, and human freedom is not meaningless.
God is so sovereign that He does not need to cancel human freedom in order to accomplish His purposes.
He redeems it.
That phrase — redeemed freedom — may sound theological at first, but it describes something very practical.
Redeemed freedom means your choices are real.
They matter.
They shape direction.
They reveal the heart.
Redeemed freedom also means that God is not pacing heaven, anxious that you might mess everything up.
He is not waiting to punish a misstep. He is not dependent on your perfection to bring about His purposes.
God works with real choices — faithful ones, fearful ones, even sinful ones — and continues to move His redemptive plan forward.
That doesn’t mean choices don’t have consequences.
It means consequences are not the same thing as destiny.
That matters, because many people are living as though life is a spiritual payback system.
Do good, get good.
Do bad, get punished.
Try harder, earn favor.
Fail too badly, lose your future.
That way of thinking sounds biblical — but it isn’t.
It’s closer to karma than it is to grace.
Christian faith is not about life paying you back.
It’s about God redeeming what you choose.
When we confuse those two, faith becomes exhausting. Love becomes transactional. Obedience becomes calculated.
We begin to ask not, Is this faithful?
But, Is this worth it?
We keep score in relationships.
We measure generosity by return.
We forgive carefully.
We love cautiously.
We love — but with a calculator.
Scripture keeps showing us people who didn’t.
People who moved forward without knowing how it would turn out.
People who acted in love without calculating outcomes.
People who made real choices — sometimes brave, sometimes fearful — and discovered that God was still at work.
That’s the tension we’re going to sit with today.
Not Can God control everything?
But Can I trust Him with my freedom?
Not Will God get His way?
But What kind of God does that reveal?
Because the real question isn’t whether God knows the future.
The real question is whether His will is safe enough to walk forward without guarantees.
Today is not about making a perfect decision.
It’s about stepping out of fear-based waiting.
It’s about moving again — faithfully, imperfectly, and honestly — under grace.
To see how that works, we’re going to look at a life that held destiny and freedom together without collapsing either. A life that began with a dream, moved through betrayal, passed through long seasons of confusion, and ended with a sentence that may be one of the clearest explanations of predestination and free will in all of Scripture.
A sentence that says, in essence: You chose freely.
God worked redemptively.
And His purposes were never in danger.
That’s where we’re going.
And more importantly — that’s where many of us need to go again.
BODY
--- Dreams, Destiny, and the Limits of Control
Joseph’s story begins with something many of us wish we had more of: clarity.
He doesn’t start with confusion.
He doesn’t start with doubt.
He starts with dreams.
Not impressions. Not vague feelings. Dreams that are bold, unsettling, and unmistakable. In them, Joseph sees himself standing while others bow.
He doesn’t yet understand what they mean, how they will unfold, or what they will cost—but he knows this much: God has shown him something about his future.
That matters.
Because when God gives Joseph dreams, God is not handing him a detailed plan. He is not providing a timeline. He is not explaining the process. God reveals direction, not method.
Joseph knows where his life is headed—but not how it will get there.
That distinction sits right at the heart of the predestination and free will tension.
God reveals purpose.
Human beings still make choices.
Almost immediately, those choices collide with Joseph’s destiny.
Joseph’s brothers are not forced into anything. They are not manipulated by prophecy. They are not unknowingly fulfilling a divine script. They act out of jealousy, resentment, and wounded pride. They choose to hate. They choose to plot. They choose to sell their own brother into slavery.
Nothing in Scripture suggests God caused their decision.
Nothing suggests their betrayal was morally neutral.
Nothing suggests their freedom was an illusion.
They choose freely—and they choose wrongly.
And yet, God’s purposes are not undone.
Joseph’s dreams do not die in the pit.
They do not evaporate in slavery.
They do not disappear in prison.
But they are delayed.
They are obscured.
They are contradicted by circumstance.
For years, Joseph’s life looks like proof that the dreams were wrong.
This is where the conversation becomes personal.
Many people assume that if God is involved, life should make sense. If God has a plan, the path should feel consistent. If God has spoken, the story should move forward smoothly.
Joseph’s life shatters that assumption.
God’s will is not fragile—but it is not rushed.
And God’s sovereignty does not eliminate human freedom.
Joseph still has choices to make.
In Potiphar’s house, Joseph chooses integrity when compromise would have been easier.
In temptation, he chooses restraint when secrecy would have protected him.
In prison, he chooses faithfulness when bitterness would have been justified.
Before Pharaoh, he chooses humility instead of self-promotion.
None of these moments are glamorous.
None of them look like destiny.
They look like ordinary decisions made under pressure.
This is the crucial insight:
Joseph’s destiny is not fulfilled despite his choices.
It is fulfilled through them.
God does not override Joseph’s will. He redeems it.
Joseph is not carried forward on rails. He is not passive. He is not waiting for fate to happen to him. He is actively choosing faithfulness in circumstances he did not choose.
That is redeemed freedom.
And it speaks directly to the fear many people carry.
People often believe they must make the perfect decision in order to stay within God’s will. They believe one wrong turn could permanently derail their future. They believe destiny is fragile, easily missed, and difficult to recover.
So they hesitate.
They delay.
They wait for certainty God never promised.
Fear of decisions leads to progress paralysis.
Joseph shows us something different.
He does not know how the dream will happen.
He does not know when it will happen.
He does not know who will be involved.
But he keeps moving forward faithfully in what he does know.
He chooses honesty.
He chooses responsibility.
He chooses trust.
Joseph teaches us that faith is not about controlling outcomes—it’s about trusting God with direction.
God’s purposes are not suspended until you get everything right.
They are carried forward as you walk faithfully where you are.
Predestination, in Joseph’s life, is not fate.
Free will is not chaos.
They move together.
God reveals the destination.
Human beings choose the steps.
And God redeems the whole journey.
This is why Joseph’s story matters so much to us.
It tells us that God’s will is not something we protect by standing still. It is something we trust as we move forward.
Joseph did not understand the whole story, but he understood enough to remain faithful in the chapter he was in.
Redeemed freedom does not promise clarity about the future. It promises that God is already present in the next step.
--- When Fear Shapes Decisions
Joseph’s life helps us see how God redeems faithfulness over time.
Scripture also shows us something equally important: how God redeems fear.
Not every story in the Bible is marked by courage.
Not every servant of God responds with clarity and confidence.
And not every fearful decision ends in collapse.
Sometimes fear doesn’t stop us completely — it bends us.
That’s why the Bible includes stories of faithful people who hesitate, calculate, or compromise under pressure. Not to excuse fear, but to show us that fear does not automatically disqualify us from God’s purposes.
One of the clearest examples is Abraham.
God has already spoken to Abraham. God has already promised blessing, descendants, and a future.
When Abraham enters Egypt and senses danger, fear takes the microphone.
He tells Sarah to say she is his sister.
He stays silent while she is taken into Pharaoh’s house.
He chooses self-protection over trust.
This isn’t rebellion.
It isn’t disbelief.
It’s fear.
Fear says, “If I tell the truth, I die.”
Fear says, “If I trust God here, I lose control.”
Fear says, “I need to manage this situation myself.”
And fear always narrows our vision.
Abraham’s decision creates risk. It creates confusion. It creates embarrassment. Pharaoh ends up rebuking the man of faith.
The situation is awkward, exposed, and messy.
But here’s the critical point:
The promise is not canceled.
God intervenes.
God protects Sarah.
God preserves the future.
Abraham’s fearful decision has consequences — but it does not rewrite destiny.
That distinction matters more than we often realize.
Many people today are not paralyzed by fear of the future — they are paralyzed by fear of the past.
They believe a wrong decision has permanently altered their standing with God.
They assume they missed their moment, forfeited their calling, or ruined what God intended.
They replay the failure.
They rehearse the regret.
They relive the what-ifs.
Redeemed freedom speaks directly into that fear.
It says your worst decision is not stronger than God’s redemptive ability.
That does not excuse fear.
It does not deny responsibility.
But it refuses to let fear have the final word.
Scripture reinforces this again in the life of Gideon.
Gideon’s problem is not rebellion — it’s hesitation.
God speaks clearly to him. The call is unmistakable. The mission is defined. Yet Gideon asks for a sign.
Then another.
Then another.
This is not discernment.
It is fear wearing spiritual language.
Certainty feels safer than obedience.
Here’s what’s important: God meets Gideon where he is.
God does not shame him.
God does not abandon him.
God does not revoke the calling.
But God also does not allow the fleece to become the pattern.
Eventually, God removes the safety nets. The army is reduced. The odds worsen. Movement becomes unavoidable.
Why?
Because redeemed freedom cannot remain parked forever.
Fear may explain hesitation — but it cannot be allowed to lead indefinitely.
This is where many sincere believers struggle.
They are not saying “no” to God.
They are saying “not yet.”
They are waiting for fear to disappear before they act.
They are waiting for certainty before obedience.
They are waiting for guarantees God never promised.
And while they wait, faith stalls.
Fear of decisions leads to progress paralysis.
Joseph, Abraham, and Gideon show us three different responses to fear — but one consistent truth.
God does not cancel human freedom.
He redeems it.
Joseph keeps moving faithfully without clarity.
Abraham stumbles but continues forward.
Gideon hesitates and is eventually pushed into action.
Different responses.
Same God.
And this matters because redeemed freedom is not about eliminating fear. It’s about refusing to let fear be the decision-maker.
Faith does not require the absence of fear.
It requires movement in the presence of it.
Redeemed freedom does not promise that every choice will be painless.
It promises that God is still at work when choices are imperfect.
God’s purposes are not suspended until you become fearless.
They move forward as you choose trust over control.
Fear tells us to protect ourselves by standing still.
Faith invites us to trust God as we move.
That brings us back to the heart of this message.
The question is not whether you will ever feel afraid.
The question is who gets to speak when fear shows up.
Fear says, “Wait until you’re sure.”
Faith says, “Take the next faithful step.”
Redeemed freedom does not eliminate responsibility.
It removes paralysis.
And that’s where movement begins.
--- Moving Again Under Grace
At the end of Joseph’s story, after the dreams have finally come true, after the betrayal has been exposed, after the family has been reunited, Joseph speaks one sentence that interprets his entire life.
“You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.”
That sentence is not denial.
It is not spiritual spin.
It is not selective memory.
Joseph does not excuse what his brothers did. He does not pretend the pain wasn’t real. He does not say, “It didn’t matter.”
He says something far stronger.
He says that human freedom is real — and God’s redemptive purpose is stronger.
The same events carried two intentions at once.
One meant harm.
One meant good.
And the good was not achieved by canceling the evil choices.
It was achieved by redeeming them.
That sentence dismantles fear.
Because it tells us that God’s will is not fragile. It does not depend on perfect conditions, flawless obedience, or unbroken courage. It is not undone by betrayal, delayed by fear, or destroyed by bad decisions.
And that matters, because many people are living as though one wrong choice could permanently exile them from God’s purposes.
They are afraid to decide.
Afraid to act.
Afraid to move forward.
So they wait.
They wait for clarity.
They wait for certainty.
They wait for fear to disappear.
But fear rarely disappears first.
While they wait, life stalls.
Fear of decisions leads to progress paralysis.
This message isn't about encouraging reckless choices or minimizing responsibility. Scripture does not do that.
Choices matter.
Motives matter.
Direction matters.
But this message has been about refusing to let fear have the final word.
Redeemed freedom means you are not trapped between fate and failure.
It means your choices are real — and God is still at work.
It means God does not demand perfect decisions in order to remain faithful to His purposes.
He asks for honest movement, faithful steps, and trust placed in Him rather than in outcomes.
Joseph did not know how the dream would unfold.
Abraham did not know how God would protect the promise.
Gideon did not feel ready.
Mary did not calculate the return on her devotion.
None of them had guarantees.
What they had was trust — imperfect, uneven, sometimes fearful — but real.
God met them there.
That’s the invitation today.
Not to decide everything.
Not to fix the whole future.
Not to become fearless.
But to move again.
To ask a simpler question than “What’s the perfect choice?”
The better question is:
“What is the faithful next step?”
Where have you been waiting because you were afraid to choose?
Where have you been delaying obedience because you wanted certainty first?
Where have you been keeping score instead of loving freely?
Redeemed freedom does not promise that every step will feel safe.
It promises that God is already present in the step you take.
It does not remove consequences.
It removes paralysis.
It does not eliminate responsibility.
It restores trust.
Some of us need to stop protecting God’s will and start trusting it.
God does not need you to stand still to keep His plan intact.
He invites you to walk with Him — imperfectly, honestly, faithfully — and trust that He is redeeming the journey as you go.
For some, the next step may be truth you’ve been avoiding.
For some, it may be forgiveness you’ve delayed.
For some, it may be generosity without calculation.
For some, it may be obedience without applause.
Not because the outcome is guaranteed.
But because God is good.
Redeemed freedom is not about being careless.
It is about being released.
Released from fear.
Released from scorekeeping.
Released from the belief that one mistake can undo everything.
God does not cancel your freedom.
He redeems it.
--- Appeal
If fear has kept you waiting—waiting for certainty, waiting for guarantees, waiting until you feel confident enough—hear this clearly: God’s will is not something you protect by standing still.
It is something you trust as you move forward.
Today, choose one faithful next step. Not a perfect one. A faithful one.
--- Prayer
Dear God,
we confess that fear has often spoken louder than trust.
We have waited for certainty when You were inviting movement.
Teach us to trust Your character more than outcomes.
Redeem our freedom, guide our steps, and help us move forward under Your grace, without fear and without calculation.
Amen.
