Learning to Live the Life You Didn’t Expect

What was your best moment of the past year? And what was your worst?

It’s a simple tradition in one circle of old college friends a dinner table ritual at a rented cabin in the woods of Washington. Amid laughter, shared meals, and the hum of the Pacific Northwest, each person shares both their high and low of the last twelve months. It’s a space for honesty, a space to celebrate, and a space to grieve.

So let’s try it here. Not just as a reflection exercise, but as a doorway into deeper truth.

Perhaps your best moment is easy to remember a vacation, a new job, a long-awaited relationship. But what about your worst? That part of the year you’d rather forget? That moment you broke down and realized something inside you was unraveling?

Maybe, like so many of us, it involved the quiet and painful death of a dream.

The Ache of a Dying Dream

There’s something universally human about disappointment especially the kind that slowly creeps up, as the life you imagined starts drifting further out of reach.

For one man, it came sitting on a toilet, sobbing uncontrollably, not because of tragedy, but because something deep inside him understood a long-held dream was dying. Not a literal death, but a quiet burial of hope. A vocational pursuit that would never materialize. A version of life that would never be lived.

If you’ve been there in the middle of a heartbreak, a financial collapse, a diagnosis, a spiritual dry season, or simply the creeping disillusionment of unmet expectations you’re not alone. In fact, you’re profoundly normal.

We all have dreams. And at some point, we all face the grief of seeing some of them slip away.

What Dream Died in You?

Was it the dream of marriage or the dream of staying married?

Was it the desire to love your body, or to heal from what it’s endured?

Was it the hope of turning your passion into purpose, or your purpose into a paycheck?

Was it the belief that your faith would always be vibrant?

Was it the vision of the parent, the leader, the person you thought you’d be by now?

Whatever it is whatever dream didn’t pan out, and whatever sorrow sits in its place you need to know this. God is not finished with you.

The Death of a Dream Is Not the Death of You

It’s a strange thing, but sometimes when something ends, something begins. It may not be immediate. It may not be glamorous. It may involve ugly crying in bathrooms and long walks filled with questions. But still it’s a beginning.

Because in the death of our dreams, we often get a glimpse of what we truly desire.

Disappointment can become a mirror reflecting the parts of ourselves we hadn’t yet understood. And if we’re honest, many of our dreams were modeled after someone else’s life. A friend, a celebrity, a mentor. We imagined ourselves in their shoes, thinking that’s what success or joy or purpose looks like.

But the truth is, you were never meant to be them. You were only ever meant to be the fullest version of yourself.

Even if you got everything they had, you’d still feel empty because you weren’t made for their journey. You were made for yours.

The Gift of Honest Grief

So what do we do when our plans fall apart?

We grieve. We feel the loss. We name the pain. Not because it’s comfortable, but because healing begins when honesty begins.

Psalm 34:18 tells us, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” He is not repelled by your sadness. He draws near. He meets you there.

It’s not weakness to weep. It’s strength to stay present in the moment long enough to let your heart speak.

As the tears fall, questions rise: What do I do now? Who am I becoming? What dream is emerging beneath the ashes of the old one?

These are sacred questions not to be rushed or silenced, but explored. Because they often lead to a better dream one rooted not in fantasy, but in faith.

Letting Go to Receive Something New

Isaiah 43:18–19 declares, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”

God does not mock your loss. But He also does not leave you in it. He invites you to lift your eyes not to deny your pain, but to discover His promise.

The new thing He’s doing may not look like what you expected. It may be quieter. Slower. More ordinary. But it will be more real. Because it will be built not on borrowed dreams, but on His vision for your life.

Moving Forward with Open Hands

You don’t need a 5-year plan to move forward. You just need willingness to be curious, to stay open, to follow God even when the path is unclear.

Start with one step: journal your grief. Talk to a trusted friend. Pray with raw honesty. Ask God, What are You showing me about who You are and who I am?

Then take another step. Embrace the space where the old dream used to live. Not as a void, but as a garden ready for something new to grow.

You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re being reshaped. Refined. Reoriented.

And even when life doesn’t go as planned, your life is still in the hands of a God who never fails.

If this gave you a moment of reflection or hope, share it or subscribe to our newsletter for more encouragement like this.