The Harvard Business Review calls it “middlescence.” It’s a growing phenomenon among middle-aged workers who feel burned out, bottlenecked, and bored. But it’s more than professional fatigue. It’s the dawning realization that some dreams will never come true.
It’s the manager who knows he’ll never be an executive. The technician who wonders whether years of sacrifice mattered. The artist confronting the limits of her gifting. The worker staring down the quiet fear that this might be all there is.
“Like adolescence,” the Harvard Business Review concludes, “middlescence can be a time of frustration, confusion, and alienation.”
For some leaders, calling and success coincide across many spheres. But for others, God’s agenda for change involves something far more unsettling: the loss of dreams.
When Life Closes In
This goes well beyond vocation.The fifty-something single woman realizes she may never marry. The wide-eyed young couple confronts infertility. The man nearing retirement discovers he hasn’t saved enough. A marriage feels stalled and directionless. Children seem stuck, requiring more energy than we have to give.
The house, the neighborhood, the church, the social network—whatever once satisfied—no longer does.
We begin to drift like a car with no brakes or steering wheel. The only thing keeping us from veering off the road are the guardrails on either side.
Paul Tripp captures it well: “We don’t realize how influential our dreams are until midlife. All of a sudden, we feel cheated, conned, and stuck. What satisfied us before doesn’t do it anymore.”
But this isn’t just dissatisfaction. It’s the death of certain desires. It’s the burial of dreams.
The Expiration Date on Dreams
It’s a simple but painful truth: aspirations expire. Some long-term dreams turn out to be little more than mirages formed by youthful imagination. No one gets everything they want. No one accomplishes all they once envisioned. Our ambitions are inevitably strained by limits—time, opportunity, resources, and our own physical and emotional capacity.
Yet here’s another truth, just as real and far more hopeful: denied desires are part of God’s sovereign plan. God uses lost dreams to guide us toward his appointed ends—toward a life worthy of our calling.
That’s the power behind Romans 8:28: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” The denial of dreams is not punishment. It is the gracious work of a loving God, shaping the path on which we walk. He installs fences along the road to keep us moving in his direction.
When our dreams are denied, God’s sovereignty is often the first thing we place on the witness stand. It’s not that our theology changes; it’s that our theology disconnects from our disappointment.
Like Israel at Marah, we forget the plagues of Egypt, the parted sea, the daily manna—and instead ask the accusing question, “Is the Lord really with us?” (Exod. 17:7). When we fail to factor God’s goodness into our circumstances, the difference between delight and disillusionment grows thin.
The Dream God Did Not Fulfill
As a college graduate with a criminology degree and police certification, my dream was to join the local police force. Jobs were scarce. Openings were rare. We could have moved, but we were planted in a healthy church. So I worked shift after shift as a hospital security guard, waiting.
After several years, my opportunity came. Dozens applied. It came down to four candidates—me included. I was confident God was with me. The door felt custom-made, hand-delivered for the fulfillment of that dream.
It wasn’t.
I never joined the force. Instead, I relocated to Philadelphia. A year later, I entered ministry. That was twenty-four years ago. Police work was my dream. I thought it was God’s plan. I was ambitious for something good—but God had something better.
The Mercy of Fences
God loves us enough to build providential guardrails. That’s hard. It’s never easy to face a fence suddenly blocking the road we wanted to take. But God fences our ambition to keep us on his road.
Maybe you’re wondering how you got here—unemployed, disabled, unhappily married, overwhelmed by an unexpected child, trapped in a frustrating job. You never imagined this path. You’ve prayed every prayer, read every book, made every attempt—yet nothing changes.
Here is a truth worth repeating: your path is his choice. Fences and all.
When God fences our ambition, it can feel like freedom is being taken away. But fences don’t merely contain; they protect. A good fence keeps us from plunging over cliffs, even when we believe we’re chasing something good.
Ambition Redeemed
God’s agenda for our ambition is not ultimately about fulfillment, but formation. He shapes us in order to use us. And sometimes, he denies certain ambitions to accomplish a greater good—in us and through us.
The fence is not the end of the road. It is evidence that God is still leading. And sometimes, the greatest mercy in our lives is the dream God lovingly refused to fulfill.
Today’s Tenacious Question
We shouldn’t kill every ambition and dream. At the same time, we can’t let unmet dreams undercut the joy and stewardship of real responsibilities the Lord has given us. Are there any dreams you need to let go of, so you can fulfill your actual roles and responsibilities better? Are there any dreams you need to bring to the Lord and ask him for help in re-evaluating in your current season?
Prayer
Lord, you said that you will prune us to give us more growth. We don’t like pruning. It hurts. It doesn’t seem like it works, not at first. But we know you are wise. We trust you. We trust you with our work, and with our ambitions, and with our dreams. Please take them all. We give you our aspirations and ambitions. Glorify yourself in them, and glorify yourself in us. Amen.
