Lord, show us what’s really going on.
What are you doing in the midst of this?
If it’s taking a long time because it just takes a long time, that’s fine. Tough to deal with, but fine. However, if I’m the issue… if I’m in my own way… Lord, you gotta show me how to fix that. I’ve never been good at being still. I’ve never been great at group projects either. I have high standards. Expectations. And I will do everything in my power to make sure they are met.
But try as I might, I can’t meet these expectations. I need help. I need the Helper.
If you’re ok with it, I’d like to take you on a little recap journey of some things I encountered this week. And if you’re not ok with it, I don’t know what to tell you… stop reading I guess?
First, I stumbled on a sermon focused on taming the tongue with a text pulled from James 3. I’ve heard all this before, and I don’t typically have issues with slander or cursing other people, as is laid out in James 3:9, so I was tempted to skip this video. But then she said something that caught my attention: Words form worlds.
Pause. Take that in.
Words quite literally formed the world we see. And our words are powerful enough to influence our world.
When God made the earth, He didn’t craft it with His hands. He spoke into the void. He said, “Let there be light.” And it was so. Words quite literally formed the world we see. And our words, according to James 3:3-6, are powerful enough to influence our world.
Ok Lord, you’ve got my attention.
This past week at church, I led worship with a song that quotes Joseph in Genesis 50:20: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done…” That got me thinking again. What if the thing I see as affliction is actually producing a glory that far outweighs my current hardship?
But I pushed that thought aside because it is easier to understand why I’m hurting than it is to believe that this pain is producing something good. When nothing feels good, how on earth are you supposed to believe that good is coming? You can’t. Not with earthly power. The ability to believe has to come straight from heaven.
When nothing feels good, how on earth are you supposed to believe that good is coming?
I really didn’t want to study Joseph’s story because my chronological Bible reading has me in 2 Samuel, totally laser-focused on David’s story – Genesis just felt like such a backtrack. But I couldn’t ignore the nudge of the Holy Spirit, whispering, “This is how you’re going to understand. Go back.”
Ok Lord. I’m listening.
Here’s what I learned… Joseph was the favored child. God gave him a dream wherein Joseph learned that he would become a great ruler and everyone – including his brothers – would bow to him. And then Joseph blabbed about his dream to those very brothers, who weren’t too keen on the concepts.
Lesson one: Watch your mouth, Joseph. You sound arrogant.
I won’t take up time and word count retelling the details of Joseph’s story, except to say that he followed God’s commands to flee from sexual immorality, and as a reward, he found himself in prison.
I think it’s important that we pause here to discuss what prison would have looked like for Joseph. Don’t imagine the prison cells we see today. Joseph’s prison was a dried out cistern, so we’re talking 4-6 feet in depth. Not a lot of wiggle room, and absolutely no light. It probably smelled of death, whether that of an animal or a human being… rest assured the scent of suffering was prominent.
Complaining, rehearsing our pain only breeds bitterness; it’s just another way of saying, “God, I don’t want what you’re teaching me.”
God told him that he would rule. But he suffered. Then came the ultimate test… two prisoners join him in prison, and he is asked to interpret their dreams. And now here is Joseph – with absolutely nothing good in his life – speaking to a prisoner about the faithfulness of God.
In the midst of pain.
In the midst of such severe disappointment.
What would you have done? Truly… remove the intellectual barrier of “just another Bible story” and imagine how awful this really would have felt.
I think I might have been more tempted to passive aggressively express disdain for a God who had promised me the world then locked me in a prison.
“Interpret your dream? No thanks… I had a dream, too. Lot of good that did me.” Then roll over and wait for death.
Lesson two: Watch your mouth, Kylie. You sound arrogant.
Complaining, rehearsing our pain only breeds bitterness; it’s just another way of saying, “God, I don’t want what you’re teaching me.” And God is fine with that, by the way. He won’t force us to receive His gifts. Eventually, He will stop trying; we will be left to our own devices.
And that last sentence should terrify us.
Your words could be the difference between realizing the dream and dying in the wilderness outside the promised land.
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