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 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 some days you just don’t know how much longer you can hold on.

You’re tired — and there’s nowhere to escape to, no respite. You feel it: there’s kind of a gray chill that seeps into your bones. You press your hand to your chest to see if your heart is still beating: 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 - as well he might: 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. He did not, by any means, enjoy 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 — to hoard or lord over others, but meaningful gifts to be shared. He began to realize that he had a purposeful life: to be a blessing-bearer (not a hoarder). He began to realize that there was One who cared for him, who stayed with him, always, 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. He sought to serve, rather than be served.

“And so Joseph lived happily ever after.” I hear you say.

Well, yes, but I would say not so much 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.

BBut the magic of the story — the divine aspect, that is — is that Joseph learned to listen and trust in the Holy Presence. He discovered the good that he could do, not through fiery angels or talking donkeys or heavenly trumpets, but in the process of living Godly-ly (if I can coin a word); trust in God’s goodness, have faith that you aren’t alone in this, be a blessing-bearer to others. That makes for an amazing life. A miraculous life.

IThere are lots of young men and women like Joseph, then and now $#40and lots of not-so-young men and women$#41 who fall into dark and hopeless places and get stuck, and never learn to listen, or feel, or seek the Presence that is with us. That’s the other side of the story. The tragedy. Lives lost; real “fallen angels,” whose gifts were never shared with the world.

We’re not all called to become Secretary of Agriculture for a foreign king $#40which is sort of what Joseph was$#41, and of course I’m being silly here, but we’ve all got God on our side, maybe sitting quietly, maybe nudging us to take a chance, to step forth, to be brave, to pray….

I think we can safely say that Joseph’s greatest blessing wasn’t that he worked for a king, but that he worked for God. It was a job he grew into; he became a good, Godly man who listened to the divine prodding in his dreams, and to the dreams and concerns of others; and acted with compassion and concern for others.

Throughout Joseph's life, 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, Joseph ended up where he was supposed to be. Because God was there. And because Joseph listened.

Even in the grimmest, most frightening, miserable experiences of Joseph’s life, God was there. God is with us. Always. It’s that simple — and that difficult to believe when we’re in the midst of it; when we’re down in that deep and terrible well, at our wit’s end, when we’re barely hanging on. God is with us. Right now. Right here. In our midst.

And it's always a good time to listen.

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