The destruction was everywhere. It was a shocking war scene
of epic loss. Tears fell down on mangled toys as we surveyed the damage
and sifted through the losses.
During the night our German shepherd had decided to put her
signature stamp on all they kids’ toys that were within her reach- there were
many causalities. As we cleaned up the damage shred by shard, I told a joke
about Paul’s words in Romans 7: “15 I don’t really understand
myself, for I want to chew what is
right, but I don’t chew it. Instead,
I chew what I hate. 16 I
know that what I am chewing is wrong”.
When it comes to words in times of trouble, timing is everything.
It wasn’t a funny joke to my kids and it definitely didn’t
get the dog off the hook. I held up the bag of mangled playthings and declared
the threatening and very familiar “UH-OOOH!!” as I shook it in her direction.
She slunk away, tail and head down in repentance, and spent the rest of the
afternoon in the dog house while we held a funeral for all the innocent toys
that lost their life that night. Then, to ease the onslaught of tears, we went
to the toy store to buy a few new ones. We let them choose from within our
parameters based on what needed to be replaced.
Clutching their new ambitions, filled with renewed happiness, our children headed quickly
to the checkout.
And the wait was long- horribly so.
The kids stood there in line with new toys in hands, eager to replace
what was lost, urgent to move forward, impatient that paying the price meant
waiting for half an hour in line. Why couldn’t we just walk up, shove money at
them and go? This big-box toy store (which I won’t call by name but which
everybody knows) had the longest and slowest line ever experienced on a Sunday
afternoon. All my kids wanted to do was grab their new blessings and run home,
but they had to wait for what seemed an
eternity, clutching their desires in both hands and squirming in captivity
within the boundaries of the line, wiggling impatiently under the security
cameras.
My kids had to learn something simple that I am grappling
with this week.
Blessing requires waiting. And it requires surrender to a
higher plan.
God, sometimes I hate this lesson.
Waiting on God’s timing can seem eternal.
Yet we must pause and be quiet because surrender
to freedom usually happens in captivity- the desert place of the
unknown.
This week I am waiting for a phone call. Sit with me here as
I ruminate. I wait for God’s promises to captivate.
This past Sunday, in addition to the destruction of toys, I
heard a sermon at church which resonated in a profound way with the destruction
in my past.
Pastor Rick talked about “choosing the right guide for my
life”- namely, the Holy Spirit. The sermons in this place have always had
impeccable timing with my journey ever since I first came here- this is the
Spirit speaking. My new pastor got right to the heart of the issue for me:
“Wait for God’s perfect timing. God always gives His best to those who
leave the choice to Him.”
Ugh. I feel that one deep down in my soul. Reveal it and
heal it God. Amen.
And then another one-
“Pause and be quiet. You are most likely to hear the Holy Spirit when You
are relaxed.”
Oh.
My head down, I slink away to the dog house in repentance to
chew on my response.
What do you do when you realize that you are striving for
control again? Well, admit you are in prison, for one thing. It could be a dog
house, a dining room chair, a blog or a phone call- anything can hold you
captive when you strive. My brother Joseph joins me here, where he has been
waiting for deliverance for quite some time. He and I are both searching for
peace and purpose here in the waiting place.
We
long to choose our future.
We acknowledge our desperation.
We were just foolish children who said stupid things for
attention. Our dreams were good, but our method was not- right dreams, wrong kingdom. It was
all just a misunderstanding, but it landed us in captivity.
But we are not alone- God always leaves a remnant.
40 Some time later, Pharaoh’s chief cup-bearer and
chief baker offended their royal master. 2 Pharaoh became angry with these two officials, 3 and he put them in the prison where Joseph was,
in the palace of the captain of the guard. 4 They remained in prison for quite some time, and
the captain of the guard assigned them to Joseph, who looked after them.
So you have some semblance of authority here in this
captivity?
That does not mean you are in control.
In this prison we connect with people who understand our
pain. I suppose Joseph found a kind of comradery here, because even though they
came from such different backgrounds, the prisoners’ stories intersected here
in the similarity of shackles. They must have formed some kind of convenient
friendship, the type based on sharing common prison walls.
When it’s time for hard truth, we turn to the ones who have witnessed
our strife.
5 While
they were in prison, Pharaoh’s cup-bearer and baker each had a dream one night,
and each dream had its own meaning. 6 When Joseph saw them the next morning, he
noticed that they both looked upset.7 “Why do you look so worried today?” he asked
them.
8 And they
replied, “We both had dreams last night, but no one can tell us what they
mean.”
“Interpreting dreams is God’s business,” Joseph replied. “Go ahead
and tell me your dreams.”
I wonder about Joseph’s confidence here. I would like to be
so certain of my own dreams. How do I know when God is speaking? I search for meaning in Scripture because my
brothers and sisters of the past speak to me through the pages of this ancient
text.
Joseph, how did you hear God’s voice in the depth of your prison
cell?
Perhaps captivity is the
birthplace of revelation.
Indeed I’m sure it is.
I observe my brother in his divination with admiration and
curiosity. God’s response to his trust was to give him an interpretation of an
event and an impression of people. Joseph trusted God and he saw people- really
saw them, including their brokenness.
Sometimes I see people, too. I have seen those who have hurt
me, and their brokenness has been divinely revealed to me in visions and dreams
of my own. God provides wisdom to those who wait, and He refines the visionary to prepare for the reception of the vision.
Sometimes God in His
mercy will reveal the problem so He can heal it.
One man’s dream is another man’s deliverance.
12 “This is what the dream means,” Joseph said. “13 Within three days Pharaoh will lift you up and restore you to
your position as his chief cup-bearer. 14 And please remember me and do me a favor when things go well
for you. Mention me to Pharaoh, so he might let me out of this place. 15 For I was kidnapped from my homeland, the land of the
Hebrews, and now I’m here in prison, but I did nothing to deserve it.”
God, we do not deserve this. We stand there with desires in
hand, eager to replace what was lost, urgent to move forward, impatient that
paying the price meant waiting for half a lifetime and twice an eternity. Why can’t
we just walk up, shove open hands at Him and receive?
Ah, but He is in the waiting. He communes with us there.
We are tired of our captivity. It’s time to surrender to
freedom. We want to be free of what holds us back. We want to choose a new
future.
He
is in the waiting.
20 Pharaoh’s birthday came three days later, and he
prepared a banquet for all his officials and staff. He summoned[a] his chief cup-bearer. 23 Pharaoh’s chief cup-bearer, however, forgot all
about Joseph, never giving him another
thought.
Oh to feel forgotten. And by the people you shared captivity
with! By the ones who promised to care.
To feel forgotten is to feel afraid.
But the Holy Spirit’s
voice is never, ever fear-based. So when we are afraid that we are
insignificant, that is a lie. But it is so easy to believe, alone here in this
prison of emotion.
Once upon a time there was a strange, tall dark man who
ruined everyone’s plans- his name was Father Time. Nobody knew where he came
from, but everyone knew where he was going- forward, slow as a snail, fast as a
tortoise, enslaving God’s children as he stooped low to make them small,
pushing them into the ground with a heavy hand.
The waiting place can feel like an eternal captivity of
useless rumination.
41 Two full years later…
God. Where are
you?
The destruction was everywhere when this story began. It was
a shocking war scene of epic loss. Tears fell on mangled dreams as we surveyed
the damage.
Now Joseph and I wait here for that phone call. We jump at
every ring. We wince at every text.
We
wait for our calling.
Did you know I have a
new church family now?
This is my victory, my
blessing, my hope.
It is a church of second chances- it’s in the first letter of their name.
I will hold them to
that.
“Don’t freak out over
delays” said my pastor last Sunday.
Yes, I’m trying, Pastor Rick, I really am trying. Joseph and
I have our good days and our bad days. Waiting for purpose and identity is a
bit like waiting in a long and endless line for your dashed blessings to be
replaced, striving and straining under the Son and avoiding the offense of joy.
Two years to be
forgotten? God, it feels like forever
and I have only been here for one. I hold Joseph’s hand and sit with him while we
pray, feeling the endless longing that stretches on and on throughout each timeless
day.
Meanwhile, as we wait, God is moving in our favor. We
believe this as we clutch the broken pieces to our wounded hearts.
8 One
morning Pharaoh was very disturbed by dreams. So he called for all the
magicians and wise men of Egypt. When Pharaoh told them his dreams, not one of
them could tell him what they meant.
God is working for us, there in places we have never been
but are destined to be. He paves the way even while we mourn and grieve. This
is how He will one day lift our countenance and give us peace.
9 Finally,
the king’s chief cup-bearer spoke up. “Today I have been reminded of my
failure,” he told Pharaoh. 10 “Some
time ago, you were angry with the chief baker and me, and you imprisoned us in
the palace of the captain of the guard. 11 One
night the chief baker and I each had a dream, and each dream had its own
meaning. 12 There
was a young Hebrew man with us in the prison who was a slave of the captain of
the guard. We told him our dreams, and he told us what each of our dreams
meant. 13 And everything happened
just as he had predicted. I was restored to my position as cup-bearer.”
Joseph, how blessed you are to be remembered for your gift!
Ah, and the waiting makes it so much sweeter. We would never choose to wait, but we are so glad we did.
We are filled with longing to be remembered by those who
have forgotten the comradery we once shared. We long to be restored to the
light of the Son.
We long for our calling.
Sometimes freedom looks like a sudden changing of our future
in one single instant. Sometimes freedom
looks like that phone call you were waiting for from that place of second
chances.
It’s
time to choose our future.
14 Pharaoh sent for Joseph at once, and he was
quickly brought from the prison. After he shaved and changed his clothes, he
went in and stood before Pharaoh. 15 Then Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I had a dream last
night, and no one here can tell me what it means. But I have heard that when
you hear about a dream you can interpret it.”
The world goes silent with hushed expectation- they are all watching
us now.
This is the opportunity for grace and honor. Our response becomes the turning point.
16 “It is
beyond my power to do this,” Joseph replied. “But God can tell you what it
means and set you at ease.”
17 So
Pharaoh told Joseph his dream.
My brother, this is your moment to shine and be seen. Here
it the moment when it becomes possible to choose our victory.
We are prepared because we have waited obediently for this
moment for a lifetime.
We have been refined for such an unforeseen opportunity as
this.
25 Joseph responded, “Pharaoh’s dreams mean God is
telling Pharaoh in advance what he is about to do.
All the hoping and longing, the years of captivity, it all comes down to an abundant torrent of
persuasive words pouring forth from a heart refined by resignation,
imprisonment and a long season of desert wandering.
And the words do come, because they have been provided by the
Author of our story, inspired by pain and lifted up in full surrender to Him.
We surrender to our divinity.
We speak what we have seen- God
gives visions to his captive children in order to set them free.
28 “This
will happen just as I have described it, for God has revealed to Pharaoh in
advance what he is about to do. 29 There
will be seven years of famine so great that all the prosperity will be
forgotten in Egypt. Famine will destroy the land. 31 This famine will be so
severe that even the memory of the good years will be erased. 32 These events have been
decreed by God, and he will soon make them happen.”
Without knowing, these words will pave the way for victory
and mark the road to freedom. We foretell our future through the fortune of our
innocence.
Our words have been prophetic in ways we never knew- this is
God’s magic and His wise counsel to our soul.
33 “Therefore,
Pharaoh should find an intelligent and wise man and put him in charge of the
entire land of Egypt. 36 That
way there will be enough to eat when the seven years of famine come to the land
of Egypt. Otherwise this famine will destroy the land.”
My brother had no idea that his abundant outpouring of words
would foretell not only the fate of the kingdom, but his own victory. We did
not know that our abundant persuasion would reveal new visions.
By his own words of fortune, Joseph chose his future.
After a lifetime of servitude to captivity, his words are
blessed by God to set him in a position far above his wildest dreams.
This is the place of second chances.
37 Joseph’s suggestions were well received by
Pharaoh and his officials.38 So Pharaoh asked his officials, “Can we find
anyone else like this man so obviously filled with the spirit of God?” 39 Then Pharaoh said to Joseph, “Since God has
revealed the meaning of the dreams to you, clearly no one else is as
intelligent or wise as you are. 40 You will be in charge of my court, and all my people will take orders
from you. Only I, sitting on my throne, will have a rank higher than yours.”
This is the breakthrough.
Joseph was once the ignorant kid who said stupid things to
his brothers because of his emotional immaturity and ridiculous dreams. And
after 20 years of hard-earned wisdom and reconditioning, this is the moment
when all the suffering begins to make sense.
My
brother and I will bloom where we are planted, here is this desert of
captivity.
Who are we becoming? Are we choosing a lifetime of scarcity and
bitterness, or a lifestyle of grace and trust in the promises of our King?
This is when the pain of the past bears the fruit of the
future.
41 Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I hereby put you in charge of the entire land of Egypt.” 42 Then Pharaoh removed his signet ring from his
hand and placed it on Joseph’s finger. He dressed him in fine linen clothing
and hung a gold chain around his neck. 43 Then he had Joseph ride in the chariot reserved
for his second-in-command. And wherever Joseph went, the command was shouted,
“Kneel down!” So Pharaoh put Joseph in
charge of all Egypt. 44 And Pharaoh said to him, “I am Pharaoh, but no
one will lift a hand or foot in the entire land of Egypt without your
approval.” 46 He was thirty years old when he began serving in the court of Pharaoh, the king of Egypt.
It didn’t have to be this way, but here we are, my brother
and I.
All things can be redeemed in time, if we can endure the waiting
place. We can choose to wait, we can choose to trust, we can choose to
prophesy. We can choose our future.
But we must wait for God’s perfect timing.
We have continued to do the right thing, even when it
produced the wrong results. We have bloomed where we were planted. We did more
than we were asked, better than was expected. We changed what we could, we
embraced what we could not.
We
dwelt in our captivity with stubborn dignity.
Here we find ourselves with the chance to try again.
50 During this time, before the first of the famine
years, two sons were born to Joseph and his wife, Asenath, the daughter of
Potiphera, the priest of On. 51 Joseph named his older son Manasseh, for he
said, “God has made me forget all my
troubles and everyone in my father’s family.” 52 Joseph named his second son Ephraim, for
he said, “God has made me fruitful in
this land of my grief.”
Our healing came in an instant, like the coming of the dawn.
Because where God leads God provides.
Tears fell on open hands and bended knees as Joseph rescued
Egypt from famine.
He bent low to bless the ones who once tread on his dreams.
And when
the people cried out to Pharaoh for food, he told them, “Go to Joseph, and do
whatever he tells you.” 57 And people from all around came to Egypt to buy
grain from Joseph because the famine was severe throughout the world.
My kids had to learn something simple that I am grappling
with this week.
Blessing requires waiting.
God, this is so hard.
“Don’t freak out over delays” said my pastor last Sunday.
Did you know I have a
new church family now? This is my victory, my blessing, my hope.
This is a church of second chances- it’s the first letter of
their name. I will hold them to it.
I
waited an eternity and a lifetime and have been prepared for this opportunity.
Yes, we must pause and be quiet, because surrender to
freedom usually happens in captivity- the captivity of the unknown.
So this week I am waiting for a phone call. Sit with me here as
I wait for the words I need to hear.
And God speaks in the quiet while I pray on bended knee:
“My Daughter, I not only see you in every moment of every day, I am
with you in all of it. You are never alone. I want to help you accept and
receive love from me in such a great abundance that it gives you the power to
become who you already are in your soul. I have chosen a future for you that is
as great and beautiful as your brother Joseph. I know how you have been hurt
and how you have hurt yourself and others. I cover all of it with grace and
redeem every tear. I can repurpose each piece of shame and grief and use it for
my glory and your honor. I have all the time in the world to sit beside you and
listen to your story. Tell me all of it and I will help you write the next
chapter. I love you. You are my dearest beloved. You are mine.”
Last Sunday, in addition to the destruction of toys, I heard
a sermon at church which resonated in a profound way with my place along the
journey.
Pastor Rick said, “Wait for God’s perfect timing. God always
gives his best to those who leave the choice to Him.”
But God, I want to choose my future now.
“Pause and be quiet. You are most likely to hear the Holy
Spirit when You are relaxed.”
Pastor Rick, God knows this is hard for me. So keep
preaching it, brother. You are my new pastor, now, so keep preaching the hard
things. I’m listening.
After the service, I slunk away to blog in repentance.
What do you do when you realize that you are striving for
control? Well, admit you are in prison, for one thing. This could be a dog
house, a dining room chair, a blog or a phone call- anything can hold you
captive when you strive.
My brother Joseph joins me here, where he has been waiting
for deliverance for quite some time. He
and I are both searching for peace and purpose here in the waiting place. We are waiting to be called.
As my ancestors in Scripture have chosen their futures, so I
am preparing to choose mine.
He is in the waiting. He is our second chance.
His Kingdom is our inheritance, our birthright and our
future.
He is calling us out of captivity. Jesus is calling.
Jesus, thank you for a new church of second chances.
Amen and amen.
Rebecca
~*~
