Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

Some things aren’t meant to be shared publicly. Personal things. Private things. Your weight. Intelligence level. Tax bracket. Reasons your employer let you go. Prophetic dreams in which your family members bow down before you in homage. Especially older brothers. Ten older brothers. If you value your neck, you should probably not race out alone to the field and tell your ten older, larger, unsupervised brothers about your dream of their obeisance. You really shouldn’t do it once. It is especially ill-advised to double down. Hindsight is often 20/20.

Joseph was probably thinking similar thoughts as the caravan of traders carted him off to slavery in Egypt. What had he been thinking telling the brothers his dreams? Although being carted off to slavery was better than the possibilities of an overnight stay in a wilderness abyss, it was not what he’d hoped for when 9 of his brothers pulled him out of his living grave. He’d been relieved then, thinking they’d had a change of heart concerning this particular form of retribution. His relief was short-lived. This was not a rescue effort. This was simply a redirection of their hastily assembled plot. The new twist had him riding off to an unknown land, to serve an unknown master, to face unknown suffering and trials.  

It seems the unknown didn’t frighten Joseph as it does us. There is no mention of weeping and wailing. He never violently lashed out in frustration over his circumstances. Not once do we read that he rebelled and infuriated his Egyptian master. He simply, quietly, efficiently persevered, excelling in spite of the disastrous turn his life had taken. Clearly, he trusted that his unknown future lay in the hands of the God he knew. The God of his ancestors. The God of his father. The God he had chosen as his own.  At home with his father or in slavery in Egypt, the Lord was with Joseph and He would bring order to the chaos. 

He landed a gem of a post in Egypt. A position in Potiphar’s house. Captain of the bodyguard, there was no poverty in Potiphar’s house. Joseph was no slouch when it came to work ethic, either. And God was with Him. Did I say that already? God was with Joseph. He blessed him and the work of his hands. Abundantly. So much that Potiphar decided to take a staycation. Joseph could handle the running of his house, the working of his fields. Potiphar would simply come and eat the abundance. It was a flawless arrangement. 

Until it developed a flaw. There truly is no fury like a woman scorned. Ask Joseph. Apparently, Potiphar’s wife had a bit of a wandering eye. Joseph, young and strong and handsome, happened to cross her periphery and turn her head. It was an accident. He had no intention of becoming the most recent object of her affections. He vehemently rejected her advances. Wanted nothing to do with her. Piqued her pride. Gave her a thirst for revenge. She found it, too, in the cloak she pulled from his arms as he made his getaway from her most recent assault. Holding the garment up as an undeniable piece of evidence, she cried out against Joseph. Lied. Retaliated. Landed an innocent man in prison. 

It must have been an enormous blow to find himself locked away with criminals for an act so decidedly un-criminal. I’d overlook it if Joseph wanted to sit in his cell with his face to the wall and sulk. By my measure, he deserves it. He’s had a hard row. Brothers who hated him, sold him, would have killed him had the consequences not been so high. Just when he seemed to have found his footing, the rug was unceremoniously torn from under his feet. (Or the cloak ripped from his shoulders, to be exact!) Now he was sitting in prison. Rotting away. No chance of release. Just day after day of monotony. How could any good, any order, possibly come from this new chaos? 

Once again emanating that beautiful example of Godly perseverance, Joseph refuses the sulk I’d so gladly indulge him. He becomes a model prisoner. The jailer is impressed. Grows to trust him. Takes a little staycation of his own. Hands his tasks over to Joseph. Allows him the run of the place. Puts all the prisoners under his authority. Giving Joseph the opportunity to hear and interpret the dreams of Pharaoh’s butler and baker. Interpretations that would eventually bring Joseph out of prison and into a position to help rescue the people of Egypt, people in surrounding countries, even the brothers who had treated him so deplorably. Because God is not hemmed in by the circumstances resulting from human machinations. (Genesis 50:20)

You can ask Joseph that too. In spite of his unwise oversharing of dreams with his brothers, their reaction was unexpected. To Joseph. Not to God. No. God was watching and working. He was busy ensuring His plan would be fulfilled. A plan of hope and help and rescue for thousands of starving people. People who didn’t worship Him. People who didn’t love Him. People who didn’t seem to deserve a rescue. People like Potiphar’s wife. People like the dark-hearted brothers who sold Joseph off like so much baggage. (Genesis 37, 39-50)

God never left Joseph. In the suffocating darkness of that abyss, God was there. In the darkness of night traveling to unknown lands as a slave, God was there. In the deafening darkness of an undeserved jail cell, God was there. In the land of his sorrow and affliction, God was there working out His purpose, His plan, in His way, in His perfect time. Joseph never suffered alone. God was with him. (Genesis 39:2, 21)

God was with my family, too. We spent three interminable years in the area of the United States dubbed the Deep South. With 10 interstate moves behind me, I headed into that abyss of unknown newness with only a modicum of concern. I should have been much, much more concerned. It was not what we had heard it would be. The hospitality we had heard so much about was non-existent. The church on every corner and the label “Bible Belt ” were misnomers. I cried every day of the first two weeks we lived there.  

My soul almost died there. There were days I thought it would. The stifling aloneness surrounded our entire family. Our children struggled to make friends. Finding a welcoming church was nearly impossible. People we had never met entirely refused to speak to us. In desperation, depression, despair, I asked God why He brought us there. What was He thinking? What could we possibly do for Him in such a closed society with no time or inclination to include newcomers? 

But God was with us. He sent encouragement, communication, love, and prayers through friends from our previous station. My soul survived. We all did. We even thrived. In the land where we felt abandoned, friendless, afflicted, we found time to uncover abundant life in Christ. My Bible reading and quiet time took on a new dimension. I learned things about God and people. How He feels about them and how He wants me to feel about them, too! My children learned invaluable lessons of acceptance, love, courage, and the grace we can constantly extend to one another. We all grew closer to Jesus; learned lessons about what truly matters. We began to more clearly understand what walking with Him truly looked like–and what it didn’t. And when the doors finally slammed shut on the moving truck to haul us out of our land of affliction, we had an abundance of things for which to be grateful. A small handful of new, lovely friends, an even closer family relationship, a newfound knowledge of God and a deeper relationship with Jesus Christ. Oh, yes! In spite of the hardships, we were certainly blessed in the land of our affliction. (I Corinthians 16:13-14; II Corinthians 1:3-4; Psalm 44:1, 17-18; I Peter 1:6-7; Psalm 94:14)

Perhaps you are enduring your own land of affliction right now. Maybe you’ve been uprooted and replanted in a place you loath. Perhaps you are simply tired of where you are and wish to be somewhere, anywhere, else. I know that feeling. I also know this. Just as God was with Joseph in all his unpleasant places, just as He was with my family through our loathsome living, God is with you. You might not see it, but He is working out His plan. A plan to draw you into a deeper relationship with Him. A plan to teach you life lessons you wouldn’t learn anywhere else. A plan for spiritual abundance even if the land around you is starving. Take heart. Be courageous. Wait on the Lord. Be blessed with His life of abundance even in the land of your affliction!  (Genesis 41:52; Psalm 27:13-14; Psalm 139:7-12; Zephaniah 3:17; Jeremiah 29:7, 10-13; I Peter 5:7; Romans 8:28; Micah 7:7-8; Psalm 73:23-26; Isaiah 40:31)