Hello?! Can you hear me? Yes, you — you who are weary, worn out, on the edge. I see you there, I know; I understand: the exhaustion, frustration, fear, sorrow, a kind seething, stirring, toxic discontent; a sort of non-specific sickness; you feel it in the depths of your being. And it’s everywhere: strife and stress and just crazy stuff going on and you don’t know how much longer you can hold on.

You’re tired — and there’s nowhere to escape to, no respite. Every place is the same; edgy, tense, dark, foreboding, there’s this a gray chill that seeps into your bones. You press your hand to your chest to see if your heart still beats: is anyone home?

Hopelessness abounds.

So, let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was this guy named Joseph — and he got chucked into a deep empty well by his brothers out in the middle of nowhere. And then they went off and left him. For good. Well, for ill, as far as Joseph was concerned.

Alone. In the middle of nowhere. With no way to get out. And it was a deep, dark, empty well.

Nobody else knew he was down there, and his brothers sure weren’t coming back; they never wanted to see him again.

So there he sat in that cold, dark, silent hole in the ground — with vultures circling above and scary scuttling and maybe even slithering creatures below.

And do you know what he did?

Now hold on. I can hear you saying, “Oh boy, here it comes: Just pray, and everything will be all right.” Well, as it turns out, that’s not what happened. Joseph did nothing; nada, zilch, not one lousy thing, he didn't make a single peep; he just sat there, in the dark, in the silence, miserable, cold, frightened, hungry, thirsty, feeling sorry for himself.

It was a pretty desperate situation. You’d probably call it hopeless. Joseph seemed to think it was; he just sat there. Miserable. Waiting. All alone.

But the funny thing is, he wasn’t alone; not really. God was in there, too, but He was keeping a low profile — which is something God does a lot. God didn’t call out to him, “Hey, buddy, no worries, I’m right here,” He didn’t reveal Himself in a burning bush or a bright cloud, or send an angel with a rope ladder, or at least a baloney sandwich. No, all was quiet; God was sitting in silence alongside Joseph, in his misery, fear, hopelessness.

But then! Joseph was rescued — after a fashion: he was taken captive by members of a passing caravansary. They took him to a foreign country where he was sold as a slave (that’s kind of good news/bad news: you’re out of the well, but now you’re a slave in a foreign country).

Now, there’s a lot more to Joseph’s story; all sorts of stuff — some of it seriously unpleasant. In the end, however, Joseph became a valued member of the royal household. It was not, by any means, a stellar rise to glory. Quite the opposite. BUT, throughout it all — from the bottom of the well to the top of the heap, God was with him.

Again, there was no big production number; no Voice from a cloud, no bright lights, clashing cymbals, or thunder bolts, just a steady Presence that Joseph probably wasn’t aware of a lot of the time.

Gradually, though, Joseph did begin to realize that God was with him, that dreams and visions were not his alone, but meaningful gifts. He began to realize that there was One who cared for him deeply, guiding and blessing his life — despite Joseph’s flaws and failings (and as a young man he was awful! Oh my goodness. Conceited, self-absorbed; swanning around the neighborhood in a fancy coat, sneering at his siblings, and always tattling when they did something wrong — which is why his brothers wanted to get rid of him).

Gradually, Joseph became the kind of person that God deserved to have as a friend and companion; a worthy servant. He grew into the loving design God had set before him: he became brave, honorable, loyal, and good.

“And so Joseph lived happily ever after. Riiight”

Well, yes, but I would say not necessarily in the material sense — I mean, yes, he achieved a very comfortable existence, as far as we can tell: he was the king’s right-hand man, was married, had a family, presumably enjoyed good health.

But there was a deeper happiness given to Joseph. How? In that he grew into the work that God called him to do. He became a good, Godly man who listened to the divine prodding in his own dreams, and to the dreams and concerns of others; and acted with compassion and concern for others.

In later life Joseph was reunited with his brothers when they appeared before him, begging for help; their crops failing, their families suffering. Unbeknownst to them, the boy they had cast into the empty well was now a powerful official who could have them cast into prison. The brother they had left in the desert to starve could have turned them away, could have let them starve. Instead, Joseph sent them home with bags of grain, and blessings. (There’s a whole lot more to the story. But let’s leave it at that for now.)

With time and experience and holy perspective Joseph had come to understand that he was where he needed to be — because God was there.

God was there all along.

In weird, often unintelligible ways, God’s presence was making itself felt. Was it always “for good”? No, some really crappy things went down; Joseph’s life wasn’t a fairy tale — yet, ultimately, life prevailed. People were fed, a famine was averted, Joseph ended up where he was supposed to be. Because God was there. And because Joseph listened.

Even the grimmest, most frightening, miserable experiences, God was there.

It’s that simple. And that difficult to believe when we’re in the midst of it; when we’re down in that deep, empty well, at our wit’s end, when we’re barely hanging on.

Joseph’s life story is great because it’s not a miracle (poof! and all is well): it’s a process. He starts out as a self-centered little egotist; he gradually starts to care about others, he gradually realizes God’s presence in his life, he gradually becomes a wise and good man who is a blessing to others.

And it all started out in a dark, cold, miserable, desperate situation. It was as if there was no hope. Yet God was there.

God can do stuff, remarkable stuff. He can lead us out of what feels hopeless and desperate into understanding, meaning, a sense of purpose, to realizing that we are blessed. This may not happen in the way we expect (or the way we would prefer) and maybe not right away; it may take a while. But, in the meantime, even now, God is there.

Even if we’re feeling stuck, lost, alone in the bottom of a deep and terrible well. Even in the surrounding darkness, God is there. God is here. Now. In our midst.

Go in Christ’s peace, little children, be of good courage, for God is with you.

Deborah  ✝

Suggested Spiritual Exercise

Take a moment, right now, to listen.
Try to make it a practice to take a moment, every so often during the day, to just listen.

"Be still and know that I am God," ~ Psalm 46:10