by Brad Layland, CEO & Senior Consultant | Author of Turning Donors into Partners
“As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good…”
— Genesis 50:20 ESV
This well-known quote from Joseph didn’t roll off his tongue when he was a teenager. He certainly didn’t say it from the bottom of the pit or when he was sold into slavery or put in prison. He didn’t even say it when he was promoted to power in Egypt. Joseph said these words after forty years.
Scripture tells us exactly how old Joseph was when everything fell apart:
“Joseph, being seventeen years old…” (Genesis 37:2)
Seventeen is a dangerous age in the best possible way. You’re old enough to dream.
Young enough to believe the world is fixable. Confident enough to think that if God gives you a vision, the path will probably be fairly direct. Joseph had dreams—big ones. So big, in fact, that his brothers gave him a nickname.
“‘Here comes this dreamer,’” they said. (Genesis 37:19) They didn’t mean it as a compliment, more like an eye roll. And I can relate.
When I was seventeen, I was convinced I could conquer the world. I announced—very confidently—that I would run for president in 2032. I truly believed I could solve the world’s problems and that my life would lead me to a future in which I might run for president. Looking back, I may have been an even bigger dreamer than Joseph.
Seventeen-year-olds tend to believe that clarity equals certainty and that passion alone can carry you wherever you need to go. What we don’t yet understand at seventeen is how much life shapes vision.
Joseph’s dreams didn’t fade gradually. They shattered in a single afternoon. His brothers—not strangers, not enemies, but family—threw him into a pit. In one moment, he lost his safety, his future, and any sense that life was predictable. If you’ve led a nonprofit or ministry for any length of time, you probably know that feeling. You begin with calling and clarity—and then something happens that you never saw coming. The pit often arrives quickly.
Nine years ago, I was walking alongside a nonprofit in the Midwest during one of the most painful seasons I’ve witnessed in organizational leadership. The CEO—a visionary, trusted, and beloved leader—was gone abruptly and unexpectedly. The impact was immediate: staff were stunned, the board was shaken, donors were left wondering, and the organization itself felt fragile for a season. There wasn’t a scandal or a clear enemy, but there was real hurt. I remember watching this unfold and carrying a deep grief alongside the leaders and stakeholders who loved the organization. There was no playbook for what to do next—only a quiet resolve to keep moving forward with integrity.
Joseph was thirty years old when he finally stood before Pharaoh. That’s thirteen years of faithfulness with little visible progress. Thirteen years of doing the right thing without the right outcome. Thirteen years of waiting.
Then came seven years of abundance, seven years of famine, and only after all of that did Joseph’s father come to Egypt and live another seventeen years before dying.
When Joseph speaks in Genesis 50:20, forgiving his brothers, he is likely in his fifties–my age. Which means this isn’t a reaction, it’s a long reflection.
Joseph doesn’t minimize what happened. He doesn’t say, “It all worked out” or, “You meant well, he says plainly: “You meant evil.”
He names the harm. But then he adds something only time can teach: “God meant it for good.”
Now, almost a decade removed from the painful leadership departure I described earlier, there has been healing, there has been new growth, there have even been unexpected blessings, but I still wouldn’t say we’re fully ready to quote Joseph’s words.
Not yet.
We’re closer, we hope to say it one day, and we trust that God is redeeming that chapter in ways we may not fully see until we get to the other side of the story.
This is where many nonprofit leaders live—whether we talk about it or not. We carry grief for what was lost, and gratitude for what God has sustained. Genesis 50:20 is not written for people at the beginning of their calling. It’s written for people who’ve lived long enough to hold complexity—for leaders who have learned that faith is not pretending the pain didn’t happen. It’s trusting that pain does not get the final word.
If I’m honest, I’d like to develop that perspective much sooner. I want meaning quickly, redemption neatly packaged, and clarity on my timeline. But the Scriptures remind us that some truths only become visible in the rearview mirror. Joseph didn’t see the good while he was bleeding in the well. He didn’t see it while he was waiting in jail, and he must have felt forgotten. He only saw the good when he looked back.
The hope is not that evil disappears; the hope is that evil doesn’t win. God didn’t waste Joseph’s suffering, and He isn’t wasting yours either. Even if you can’t yet say, “God meant it for good,” you can still say, “God is not done.” And sometimes, that is the most faithful statement a leader can make.
So if you’re living somewhere between grief and gratitude today… keep going.
The story is still being written. And the Author is still at work.
Brad Layland is CEO of The FOCUS Group, a fundraising consulting firm serving more than 150 Christian ministries worldwide. He previously served as Chief Development Officer for Young Life and is the author of Turning Donors into Partners (InterVarsity Press). Brad is an avid marathon runner and lives in St. Augustine, Florida, with his wife Wendy. They have four children.
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