Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: FINISH (05/26/16)
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TITLE: The view from the middle of the story | Previous Challenge Entry
By David Guion
06/01/16 -
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He had not violated his trust to Potiphar by succumbing to his wife's wanton suggestions. When she cornered him, he fled, but she managed to keep his cloak and accused him to her husband.
If Potiphar had believed her, wouldn't he have killed Joseph on the spot? Surely Potiphar knew Joseph hadn't betrayed him. Didn't he? So why lock him up?
Glumly, Joseph thought back on his sorry life. The eleventh of twelve sons, he had been his father's favorite, but his older brothers hated him. Somehow he hadn't noticed the depth and vitriol of their hatred.
Sure they insulted and mocked him, but they had given father ample reason to reject them. They knew better than to act violently toward Joseph. They feared even to threaten. Or so it seemed even in hindsight.
The dreams! Oh, the dreams! Though raised in a family of shepherds, he dreamed that he and his brothers harvested grain. Their sheaves bowed down to his. In another dream, the sun, moon, and stars bowed down to him. Surely the dreams meant God had great things in mind for Joseph. Didn't they?
Why had he told them his dreams? Especially the second one. Even his father rebuked him for that one. The taunting and insults only grew more intense. But still no threats to harm him.
So how was he to know, when his father sent him to them with a message, that they would beat him up, take his coat, and leave him in a pit? Oh how he cried out for mercy while they casually sat nearby to eat their lunch.
Most of them wanted to kill him. Only Reuben and Judah dissented from that plan. So they sold him when some Midianite traders happened by. Joseph had known nothing but pain and loneliness in the years since then.
No. That's not quite true. The Midianites carried him to Egypt and sold him to Potiphar. Potiphar soon trusted him enough to put him in charge of the entire household. Potiphar treated him not only with kindness, but respect. Respect, but not love. Not like his father's love.
Now, Joseph felt the same panic he had felt in the pit. Not even God noticed or cared about him then. Not now.
Yes, where was God when his brothers sold him? Yet even in slavery, Joseph had devoted himself to God. He had served Potiphar as cheerfully as he could only because he had devoted himself to God.
Potiphar had married a good looking woman. The slut had been unfaithful with other men. If Potiphar even knew, he did nothing about it.
Joseph could have dallied with her. He could have enjoyed himself thoroughly. It would have been much easier for him to give in than to resist day after day. So why had he resisted? Wasn't it for Potiphar's sake? Wasn't it because he tried so hard to serve God?
God didn't notice Joseph's dedication. He didn't seem to care at all. Where had God ever been when Joseph needed him?
But the dreams! Memory of the dreams, the hope and excitement that came with them, had swept over Joseph frequently. It kept his love for God alive when nothing else could. But what good were they? How could they ever come true?
So Joseph sat. Alone with his thoughts. His feelings careened from one to another: uncertainty, grief, anger, self-pity, fear. And somehow, incomprehensibly, an occasional ray of hope briefly joined the melee.
Thousands of years later, anyone can read about Joseph's life knowing how it ends. But Joseph? He had no idea how his story would turn out. Or he had too many ideas, all in conflict with the others. Until he drew his last breath, he lived in the middle of his story. Just like everyone else who has ever breathed air.
Even after he saw his brothers bow down to him, he remained in the middle of the story, with its rollercoaster of unrecorded ups and downs.
Every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Only God knows the end, but he leaves hints and promises that if we finish our earthly lives with him, we will enter a new story with no pain or sorrow and enjoy it forever.
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