Every time I read the story of Joseph in the Bible, the page begins to blur. Right around the part where he reveals himself to his brothers. I know what's coming — and yet, it still gets me misty-eyed.
One of the things that jumped out to me on this reading was the ages listed for Joseph: he was 17 when he was sold into slavery and 30 when he began serving in the court of Pharaoh. For 13 years he was either a slave or a prisoner — nearly half of his young life! Yet, he remained faithful.
A few weeks ago, while writing The Lord will Provide, I listed some parallels between Isaac and Jesus. Now, while reading my Chronological Life Application Study Bible, it lists the parallels between Joseph and Jesus (some of which I've never considered before):
The poem is a conversation over the course of 20-some years (I envision the final stanza happening at the beginning of that first year of the drought) between a couple of busy-bodies who appear to have Internet capabilities in the way they get the latest story of Joseph. They often have bad intel — but love to tell what they "know" anyway.
I wrote the poem with the working title of Joseph, the Dreamer. Safe. Bland. Straight to the point. And it would have been the title if this was a normal poem. I went to bed last night thinking that title didn't fit this poem. So, after tweaking a few lines this morning I decided to change it. There feels as if there is a one-upmanship, competitive spirit between the two narrators.
Have you heard the latest?
So, Joseph reigns in Egypt,
amazing — if its true!
Now where's that rain to grow our grain —
does it seem dry to you?
[Joseph related his dream]: we were binding sheaves of corn out in the field when suddenly my sheaf rose and stood upright, while your sheaves gathered round mine and bowed down to it.