Shafts of light filtered through the craggy dark hole as the young man choked on dead, dusty air. Shouting was useless in this forsaken place. It only depleted his meager air supply. Moldy, damp smells filled the space hinting of much needed water. Angry words drifted within earshot as his captives discussed the young man’s out spoken dreams.
“What were his brothers up to anyway?”
“Maybe it’s just a joke.”
“Yes, that’s it; a joke.”
Thinking back to the morning’s conversations he concluded one thing; payback. It will be alright, the dream in his heart assured him, in spite of the circumstance. He couldn’t help it if they were void of vision, seeing things only at face value. Shuddering, he longed for the protection his jacket could offer in this damp, muggy space.
Abruptly his thoughts were brought to an end. A seemingly endless array of hands began pulling him out with force.
“Let’s go,” they yelled.
Feet hitting the ground he shouted, “Give me my jacket.”
“Can we go home now?”
Looking up he knew his questions were answered, as a bag of coins fell with a deafening jingle at his feet, resulting in a swift jerk upward. Moving at a fast pace, dust flying, his brothers faded from view. His words, “I should’ve kept my mouth shut,” were lost among pounding hooves.
Before he could even begin to contemplate previous events, more coins were exchanged, placing him a lifetime away from his father, yet destiny whispered, “Believe.”
From favor to great reproach and back to favor he grew in wisdom and stature. The very qualities his brothers refused to recognize, like the array of arms once used to destroy him, now catapulted him to a position of greatness. The dream lived.
“Things are good,” he thought, until in the midst of loyal service, his master’s wife tried to cajole him into compromise. He refused temptation as her words rang in his ears, “Come be with me?” Responding with complete resoluteness of heart he fled, leaving his jacket behind, only to find himself in another dark hole.
Gripping the bars of the cell, his voice echoed through the prison walls, as the dream in his heart cried, “I will not give up or give in.”
His wisdom and sense of discernment gained him a place of prestige even in this place. A sense of providence in his own heart enabled him to understand the dreams of others.
“Your dream means you will live,” he told the man.
“I will remember you,” he replied with gratefulness, however, many days passed and memory faded.
Two years later, a similar circumstance arose demanding the once young mans great skill. He was remembered. A dreamer of dreams became an interpreter of dreams again. Called into the presence of the king, he spoke wisdom, for-telling the future with accuracy, setting the scene; salvation of a nation. Pits and prisons transformed themselves into pathways leading to a place of prominence.
Giving interpretation, he told the king, “A famine is coming.”
“Bring a portion of everything into the store houses,” he instructed.
Amazed, the king decreed, “Put the wise interpreter in charge. Do all he commands.”
Given authority over all the land, second only to the King, he dispensed wisdom and stored up enough for many years. When the rain dried up and the crops shriveled away, adding more grit to the blowing winds, he rose to the occasion.
“Dispense the grain, a portion to each household as needed,” he commanded.
Many came from far and wide in those years of drought and devastation. Among them were some who were very familiar. Faces once faded when pounding hooves took him away, though somewhat older, appeared suddenly before him. Memories of a bright colored jacket and a father’s love assaulted him.
“Could this be,” he wondered? Pits, prisons, bags of silver, false accusations, and unreturned favors once separating them like a mighty ocean, disappeared in the twinkling of an eye.
“They don’t recognize me!”
“Should I reveal myself?”
“I can’t expose my self to soon,” he thought.
“I will test them instead.”
Through many test, using the youngest lad among them, he sifted and proved them thoroughly.
As the day of revelation dawned, unrestrained with forgiveness flowing from his weeping heart, he cried, “It is I.”
“Be restored my brothers. Go get Father. What you meant for evil God has used for good.”
Clothed in humility, he embraced his father, and the thread of destiny remained unbroken.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.