Everywhere
When Joseph was taken to Egypt by the Ishmaelite traders, he was purchased by Potiphar, an Egyptian officer. Potiphar was captain of the guard for Pharaoh, the king of Egypt. The Lord was with Joseph, so he succeeded in everything he did as he served in the home of his Egyptian master. Potiphar noticed this and realized that the Lord was with Joseph, giving him success in everything he did. This pleased Potiphar, so he soon made Joseph his personal attendant. He put him in charge of his entire household and everything he owned. From the day Joseph was put in charge of his master’s household and property, the Lord began to bless Potiphar’s household for Joseph’s sake. All his household affairs ran smoothly, and his crops and livestock flourished. So Potiphar gave Joseph complete administrative responsibility over everything he owned. With Joseph there, he didn’t worry about a thing — except what kind of food to eat! (Genesis 39:1-6)
Melanie said her son, Cooper, was born with a smile on his face, and that the dimple never left his cheek. He won the hearts of everyone he knew: his three older sisters, parents, grandparents, teachers and friends. He loved to laugh and love. His father, J.J., an on-air personality on American Family Radio, confessed to his partiality – calling him practically a perfect child. And Cooper was born to the perfect family – farm-dwelling, fun-loving and God-seeking. J.J. and Melanie poured their hearts into their four children, and J.J. cherished every moment he had with his only son. That's why they were riding in the dune buggy. They intended to cut the grass together, but the lawn mower needed a spark plug. So, while Melanie drove to town to buy one, J.J. and five-year-old Cooper seized the opportunity for a quick ride. They’d done this a thousand times, zipping down a dirt road in their dune buggy. The ride was nothing new, but the flip was. On a completely level road in their Tupelo pasture, and with Cooper safely buckled in, J.J. pulled a donut and the buggy rolled over.
Cooper was unresponsive. J.J. called 911, then Melanie. "There’s been an accident," he told her. "I don't think Cooper’s going to make it." The next hours were every parent's worst nightmare: ambulance, ER, sobs and shock. And finally the news. Cooper had passed from this life into heaven. J.J. and Melanie found themselves doing the unthinkable: selecting a casket, planning a funeral, and envisioning life without their only son. In the coming days they fell into a mind-numbing rhythm. Each morning they held each other and sobbed uncontrollably. Then, after gathering enough courage to climb out of bed, they’d go downstairs to the family and friends who awaited them. They would soldier through the day until bedtime. Then they’d go to bed, hold each other, and cry themselves to sleep. J.J. would later say, "There’s no class or book on this planet that can prepare you to have your five-year-old son die in your arms . . . . We know what the bottom looks like."
The bottom. The truth is that most of us pass through much of life, if not most of life, at mid-altitude. Occasionally we summit a peak: our wedding, a promotion or the birth of a child. But most of life is lived at mid-level. Mondayish obligations of carpools, expense reports and recipes. But on occasion the world bottoms out. The pandemic hits, the test results come back positive, and before we know it, we discover what the bottom looks like.
In Joseph's case he discovered what the bottom of the auction block of Egypt looked like. The bidding began, and for the second time in his young life, he was on the market. The favored son of Jacob found himself prodded and pricked, examined for fleas, and pushed around like a donkey. Potiphar, an Egyptian officer, bought him. Joseph didn't speak the language or even know the culture. The food was strange, the work was grueling, and the odds were definitely stacked against him.
So, at this juncture we turn the page in Genesis and brace for the worst, because the next chapter in his story will describe Joseph's plunge into addiction, anger and despair, right? Nope. "The Lord was with Joseph, so he succeeded in everything he did as he served in the home of his Egyptian master.” (Gen. 39:2) Joseph arrived in Egypt with nothing but the clothes on his back and the call of God on his heart. Yet by the end of four verses, he’s running the house of the man who ran security for the Pharaoh. How do you explain that kind of turnaround? Simple. God was with him. “The Lord was with Joseph, so he succeeded in everything he did.” (v. 2) “Potiphar noticed this and realized that the Lord was with Joseph.” (v. 3) “The Lord blessed Potiphar’s household for Joseph's sake.” (v. 5) “All his household affairs ran smoothly, and his crops and livestock flourished.” (v. 5) Joseph’s story has just parted company with the volumes of self-help books and all the secret-to-success formulas that direct the struggler to an inner power by digging deeper. Joseph's story points elsewhere by looking higher. He succeeded because God was present. Like stink on a monkey, God was all over him.
Any chance he'd be the same for you? Here you are in your version of Egypt. It feels foreign. You don't know the language. You’ve never studied the vocabulary of crisis before. You feel far from home and all alone. Money’s gone. Expectations dashed. Friends vanished. Who's left? God is. David asked, "Where can I go to get away from your Spirit? Where can I run from you?" (Ps. 139:7) He then listed the various places he found God: in "the heavens . . . the grave . . . If I rise with the sun in the east and settle in the west beyond the sea, even there you would guide me." (vv. 8-10) God - everywhere.
Joseph's account of those verses would have read, "Where can I go to get away from your Spirit? If I go to the bottom of the pit . . . to the auction block . . . to the home of a foreigner . . . even there you would guide me." Your adaptation of the verse might read, "Where can I go to get away from your Spirit? If I go to the rehab clinic . . . the ICU . . . quarantine . . . the shelter for battered women . . . the county jail . . . even there you would guide me." You will never go where God is not. "He is not far from each one of us." (Acts 17:27)
Everyone can enjoy God's presence. But many don't. They plod through life as if there were no God to love them. As if their only strength was their own. As if the only solution comes from within, not from above. They live God-less lives. But there are Josephs among us: people who sense, see and hear the presence of God. People who pursue God like Moses did. When suddenly tasked with the care of two million ex-slaves, the liberator began to wonder, “How am I going to provide for these people? How will we defend ourselves against enemies? How will we survive?” Moses needed supplies, managers, equipment and experience. But when Moses prayed for help, he declared, "If Your Presence does not go with us, do not bring us up from here." (Ex. 33:15) In other words, Moses preferred to go nowhere with God, than anywhere without him.
As did David. The king ended up in an Egypt of his own making. He seduced the wife of a soldier and covered up his sin with murder and deceit. He hid from God for a year, but he could not hide forever. When he finally confessed his immorality, he made only one request of God: "Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me." (Ps. 51:11) Note that David didn’t pray, "Don’t take my crown from me. Don’t take my kingdom from me. Don’t take my army from me." David knew what mattered most. The presence of God. And he begged God for it.
Make God's presence your passion. Be more like a sponge and less like a rock. Here’s what I mean. Place a rock in water and what happens? Its surface gets wet. The exterior may change color, but the interior remains untouched. But place a sponge in water and notice the change. It absorbs the water. The water penetrates every pore and alters the very essence of the sponge. God surrounds us in the same way the Pacific surrounds an ocean floor of pebbles. He’s everywhere – above, below, on all sides. But God leaves us the choice: rock or sponge? Resist or receive? Everything inside us says to harden our hearts. Run from God; resist God; blame God. But hard hearts never heal. Spongy ones do.
This kind of passion starts by acknowledging the nearness of God. "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." (Heb. 13:5) In the Greek, this passage actually has four negatives and could be translated, "I will not, not leave you; neither will I not, not forsake you." Hold onto that promise like the parachute that it is. Repeat it to yourself over and over until it trumps the voices of fear and anxiety. "The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." (Zeph. 3:17)
Along the way, however, we can sometime lose that sense of God's presence. Job did. "But if I go to the east, he is not there; if I go to the west, I do not find him. When he is at work in the north, I do not see him; when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him." (Job 23:8-9) Job felt far from God. Yet in spite of his inability to feel God, Job resolved, "But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold." (v. 10) Difficult days demand decisions of faith.
That’s what David did. “When I am afraid, I will trust in you.” (Ps. 56:3) “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him.” (Ps. 42:5) Don't equate the presence of God with a good mood or pleasant demeanor. God is near whether you’re happy or not. Sometimes you just have to take your feelings outside and give them a good talking-to. And you can start that process by quarrying from your Bible a list of God’s qualities and press them into your heart.
My list reads something like this: "He’s still sovereign. Angels still respond to his call. The hearts of rulers still yield at his bidding. The death of Jesus still saves souls. The Spirit of God still indwells saints. Heaven is still only a heartbeat away. The grave is still temporary housing. God is still faithful. He’s not caught off guard. He uses everything for his glory and my ultimate good. He uses tragedy to accomplish his will, and his will is right, holy and perfect. “Sorrow may come with the night, but joy comes with the morning.” (Psalm 30:5) God bears fruit in the midst of affliction. (Gen. 41:52) In changing times lay hold of the unchanging character of God.
Then, in God’s presence, pray your pain out. Pound the table, if you have to. March up and down the lawn. Make it a tenacious, honest prayer. Are you angry at God? Disappointed with his strategy? Ticked off at his choices? Then, let him know it. Let him have it. Jeremiah did. This ancient prophet pastored Jerusalem during a time of economic and spiritual collapse, and its resultant political upheaval. Invasion. Disaster. Exile. Hunger. Death. Jeremiah saw it all. In fact, he filled his devotions with so many complaints that his prayer journal is called Lamentations. “I am the one who has seen the afflictions that come from the rod of the Lord’s anger. He has led me into darkness, shutting out all light. He has turned his hand against me again and again, all day long. He has made my skin and flesh grow old. He has broken my bones. He has besieged and surrounded me with anguish and distress. He has buried me in a dark place, like those long dead. He has walled me in, and I cannot escape. He has bound me in heavy chains. And though I cry and shout, he has shut out my prayers.” (Lam 3:2-8) Ever talked to God that way before? We’d be dodging lightning bolts, right? Not Jeremiah.
Jeremiah spent five chapters of the five chapters of Lamentations with that kind of fury. That’s the whole book. And you can pretty much summarize the bulk of his book with one line: life stinks. So, why then would God put Lamentations in the Bible? Maybe to encourage us to follow Jeremiah’s example. So, go ahead. File your grievance. "I pour out my complaint before him; I tell my trouble before him." (Ps. 142:2) God’s not going to get in a huff and turn away from your anger. Even Jesus offered up prayers with "loud cries and tears." (Heb. 5:7) It’s better to shake a fist at God than to turn your back on him. The words might seem hollow and empty at first. You may even mumble your sentences, and fumble your thoughts. But don't quit. And don't hide – God will spare you the lightning bolts.
And then lean on God's people. This is no time to be a hermit. Instead, be a barnacle on the boat of God's church. "For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them." (Matt. 18:20) Would the sick avoid the hospital, or the hungry avoid the food pantry? Would the discouraged abandon God's Hope Distribution Center? Only at their own peril they would.
Moses and the Israelites once battled the Amalekites, and the military strategy of Moses was a strange one. He commissioned Joshua to lead the fight in the valley below. Moses then ascended the hill to pray. But he didn’t go alone. He took his two lieutenants, Aaron and Hur. While Joshua led the physical combat, Moses engaged in a spiritual fight. Aaron and Hur stood on either side of their leader to hold up his arms in the battle of prayer. The Israelites prevailed because Moses prayed. And Moses prevailed because he had others to pray with him.
If Joseph's story is any precedent, God can use your Egypt to teach you that he’s with you. Your family may be gone. Your supporters may have left. Your counselor may be silent. But God hasn’t budged. His promise still stands: "I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go." (Gen. 28:15) You’re not alone. He’s everywhere. And everywhere includes you.
Grace,
No comments:
Post a Comment