Have you ever felt orphaned? Not necessarily in the literal sense, but in the deep, heart-wrenching way that leaves you feeling unseen, unwanted, and utterly alone. That was me for a good chunk of my time after moving to the UAE.
It’s been almost four years since I left the familiarity of India. Back home, I often grumbled about my parents’ incessant check-ins or friends’ endless WhatsApp messages, but—if I’m honest—I was comfortable with it. I had my routines, my circles, my sense of purpose. Then came 2021, and I found myself locked in a high-ceiling villa in a foreign land where nobody cared and no one bothered.
Each morning, my husband and mother-in-law would leave the house, locking the door behind them. They’d return at lunch, then disappear again. I’d freelance, trying to stay busy, but the silence was deafening. That orphan spirit hung heavy over me, and it followed me when I went to Rome for my master’s and later when I moved to Sharjah for work. It hit especially hard when I got sick—when you’re down and out, the absence of a comforting presence stings sharper.
And who did I find myself relating to in those moments? Joseph. Yes, Joseph of the many-colored coat, but more importantly, Joseph of the pit, the prison, and the palace.
Let’s be real: Joseph’s story isn’t one we’d sign up for. The pit? Brutal. Sold as a slave? Devastating. Falsely accused and thrown into prison? Completely unfair. Yet, these weren’t dead ends; they were stepping stones.
Joseph himself says in Genesis 41:52, “God has made me fruitful in the land of my suffering.”
I had my own “Joseph moments.”
- The pit moments where I felt abandoned.
- The misunderstood moments where no one saw my heart.
- The prison moments where circumstances seemed to cage me in.
But… Joseph’s story didn’t end there, and neither does mine or yours. God took Joseph from the pit to the palace, turning every hardship into a setup for His glory. What struck me was this: God didn’t wait to prosper Joseph when he returned home or got to some idyllic place. He prospered him right there, in the very land of his sorrow.
For me, the UAE felt like “the land that stole my identity.” It whispered lies of unworthiness, uselessness, and sorrow. I was so caught up in what I lacked that I became blind to what God was doing. I couldn’t see the favors He was weaving into my story:
- A senior position at work and a promotion that came faster than I expected.
- A church family that welcomed me with open arms and gave me community.
- The basics I’d taken for granted: food on the table, a roof over my head, a car, and the ability to provide.
God’s fingerprints were everywhere, even when I felt like an orphan. And here’s the truth I’ve learned: we are not orphans. Jesus Himself promises in John 14:18, “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.”
Maybe you’re in a pit right now, or the prison feels suffocating. Maybe you’re watching others flourish while you’re stuck wondering when your breakthrough will come. Friend, don’t lose heart. God is at work. The tilling of the soil feels messy, but it’s preparing the ground for something greater.
Take it from Joseph. Take it from me. The land of your sorrow could very well be the land of your greatest fruitfulness. Keep holding on to God’s promises, because He’s not just the God of the mountaintops; He’s the God who meets us in the valleys, too. Even in the muddy waters, He makes us bloom like the lilies-unaffected, unbothered by the dirt around.
You are not unseen. You are not forgotten. And you are most definitely not orphaned. God is with you, and He’s working all things together for your good (Romans 8:28). Hold on; your palace moment is coming.
