When the American Dream Gets in God’s Way

All that work. All that education. All that opportunity—staring me in the face over the years. Many minor successes, a few failures, and the sense that God was speaking through the clouds. I was a whirlwind of activity, hurtling from project to project, convinced no problem was too broken for me to fix. People called me creative; I called myself driven. But deep down, I was running—from my sin, from God, and from those who cared enough to help.

In 1972, I came back to Maine to help rescue our failing family business. I threw myself into building—stores, houses, additions. The setting had changed, but the pace hadn’t. And through it all, God kept nudging me homeward.

One of the hardest lessons I learned was that God owed me absolutely nothing—no matter how hard I worked to redeem my past. I was too busy doing for God what He patiently wanted to do through me.

Romans 7 hit me like a hammer: the Christian life isn’t a place of escape from conflict—it’s a battlefield. It’s the daily war between good and evil inside us. While some preached instant relief, Christ promised victory in an ongoing fight. That victory would leave scars, because following Him meant submission—dying slowly to my own agenda.

The American Dream says the hardest workers reap the greatest rewards. The Kingdom of God says, “Line your track up with Mine, and let Me set the destination.” God’s track never moves. If I wander, He waits until

I’m ready to come back—like the prodigal son returning home.

I’ve had to learn to fill my days, not with busyness, but with obedience—driving the spikes into the ties that bind me to His will. The light at the end of the tunnel may be faint, but it grows brighter the closer my track runs to His.