Crises

Crises

The time eventually came when there was no food anywhere. The famine was very bad. Egypt and Canaan alike were devastated by the famine. Joseph collected all the money that was to be found in Egypt and Canaan to pay for the distribution of food. He banked the money in Pharaoh’s palace. When the money from Egypt and Canaan had run out, the Egyptians came to Joseph. “Food! Give us food! Are you going to watch us die right in front of you? The money is all gone.” Joseph said, “Bring your livestock. I’ll trade you food for livestock since your money’s run out.” So they brought Joseph their livestock. He traded them food for their horses, sheep, cattle, and donkeys. He got them through that year in exchange for all their livestock. When that year was over, the next year rolled around and they were back, saying, “Master, it’s no secret to you that we’re broke: our money’s gone and we’ve traded you all our livestock. We’ve nothing left to barter with but our bodies and our farms. What use are our bodies and our land if we stand here and starve to death right in front of you? Trade us food for our bodies and our land. We’ll be slaves to Pharaoh and give up our land — all we ask is seed for survival, just enough to live on and keep the farms alive.” So Joseph bought up all the farms in Egypt for Pharaoh. Every Egyptian sold his land — the famine was that bad. That’s how Pharaoh ended up owning all the land and the people ended up slaves…. (Genesis 47:13-21)

Who can forget 9/11, or Pearl Harbor, or the Titanic? Calamities can leave us off balance, bewildered and confused. So, consider the crisis of Joseph's generation. "The time eventually came when there was no food anywhere. The famine was very bad. Egypt and Canaan alike were devastated by the famine." (Gen. 47:13) During the time Joseph was struggling to reconcile with his brothers, he was also navigating an international catastrophe.

It had been two years since the last drop of rain. The sky was endlessly blue. The sun relentlessly hot. Animal carcasses littered the ground, and no hope appeared on the horizon. The land was a dust bowl. No rain meant no farming. No farming meant no food. When people appealed to Pharaoh for help, he said, "Go to Joseph; whatever he says to you, do." (41:55) Joseph faced a calamity of global proportions. Yet, contrast the description of the problem with the outcome. Years passed, and the people told Joseph, "‘You’ve saved our lives! Master, we’re grateful and glad to be slaves to Pharaoh.’" (47:25) The people remained calm. A society that was ripe for anarchy actually thanked the government rather than attacking it. Makes a person wonder if Joseph ever taught a course in crisis management.

If he did, he probably included the words he told his brothers: "God sent me before you to preserve life. For these two years the famine has been in the land, and there are still five years in which there will be neither plowing nor harvesting. And God sent me before you to keep you and your families alive, and to preserve many survivors." (45:5-7) Joseph began and ended his crisis assessment with references to God. God preceded the famine. God would outlive the famine. God was all over the famine. "God . . . famine . . . God." So, how would you describe your crisis? "The economy . . . the economy . . . the economy." "Unemployment . . . Unemployment . . . Unemployment." "Divorce . . . Divorce . . . Divorce."

Do you recite your woes more naturally than you do heaven's strength? If so, no wonder life’s tough. You're assuming God isn't in the crisis. But he is. Even a famine was fair game for God's purpose. Consider Isabel, for instance. She spent the first three and a half years of her life in a Nicaraguan orphanage. No mother, no father. No promise of either. As with all orphans, odds of adoption diminish with time, and every passing month decreased Isabel's chance of being placed in a home. And then a door slammed on her finger.

She was following the other children into the yard to play when a screen door closed on her hand. Pain shot up her arm, and her scream echoed across the playground. Why would God let that happen? Why would a benevolent, omnipotent God permit an innocent, little girl – with more than her share of challenges – to feel more pain? Maybe he was calling for the attention of Ryan Schnoke, the American would-be father who was sitting in the playroom nearby. He and his wife, Cristina, had been trying to adopt a child for months. No other adult was around to help Isabel, so Ryan walked over, picked her up, and comforted her. Several months later, when Ryan and Cristina were close to giving up, Ryan remembered Isabel and resolved to try one more time. This time the adoption succeeded, and little Isabel is now growing up in a happy, healthy home.

A finger in the door? God doesn't manufacture pain, but he certainly puts it to use. "God . . . is the blessed controller of all things." (1 Tim. 6:15) His ways are higher than ours. (Isa. 55:9) His judgments are unsearchable, and his paths are beyond tracing out. (Rom. 11:33) We can't always see what God is doing, but can't we assume he’s up to something good? Joseph did. He assumed God was in the crisis. Then he faced the crisis with a plan. He collected grain during the good years and redistributed it during the bad years. When the people ran out of food, he gave it to them in exchange for money, livestock, and property. After he stabilized the economy, he gave the people a lesson in money management. "Give one-fifth to Pharaoh, and use the rest for farming and eating." (Gen. 47:24 - paraphrase).

The plan could fit on an index card. "Save for seven years. Distribute for seven years. Manage carefully." Could his response have been simpler? But could it have been more boring? Some flamboyance would have been nice, don’t you think? A little bit of the Red Sea opening, Jericho's walls tumbling, or a dead man walking, like Lazarus. A dramatic crisis requires a dramatic response, right? Not always.

We equate spirituality with high drama: Paul raising the dead, Peter healing the sick. Yet for every Paul and Peter, there are a dozen Josephs. Men and women blessed with skills of administration. Steady hands through whom God saves people. Consider that Joseph never raised the dead, but he kept people from dying. He never healed the sick, but he kept sickness from spreading. He made a plan and stuck with it. And because he did, the nation survived. He triumphed with a calm, methodical plan.

In the days leading up to the war with Germany, the British government commissioned a series of posters. The idea was to capture encouraging slogans on paper and distribute them about the country. Capital letters in a distinct typeface were used, and a simple two-color format was selected. The only graphic was the crown of King George VI. The first poster was distributed in September of 1939:

YOUR COURAGE

YOUR CHEERFULNESS

YOUR RESOLUTION

WILL BRING

US VICTORY

 Soon thereafter a second poster was produced:

FREEDOM IS

IN PERIL

DEFEND IT

WITH ALL

YOUR MIGHT

These two posters appeared up and down the British countryside – on railroad platforms and in pubs, stores and restaurants. They were everywhere. A third poster was actually created but it was never distributed. More than 2.5 million copies were printed, yet the first such poster wasn’t seen until nearly sixty years later when a bookstore owner in northeast England discovered one in a box of old books he had purchased at an auction. It read:

 KEEP

CALM

AND

CARRY

ON.

The poster bore the same crown and style of the first two posters. It was never released to the public, however, but had been held in reserve for an extreme crisis, such as an invasion by Germany. The bookstore owner framed it and hung it on the wall. It became so popular that the bookstore began producing identical images of the original design on coffee mugs, postcards and posters. Everyone, it seems, appreciated the reminder from another generation to keep calm and carry on.

Of all the Bible heroes, Joseph is the one most likely to have hung a copy on his office wall. He indwelt the world of ledgers, flowcharts, end-of-the-year reports, tabulations and calculations. Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. He kept a cool head and carried on. And you can do the same.

You can't control the weather. You aren't in charge of the economy. You can't undo the tsunami or unwreck the car, but you can map out a strategy. Remember, God is in the crisis. Ask him to give you an index card-sized plan, and two or three steps you can take today. Seek counsel from someone who has faced a similar challenge. Ask friends to pray. Look for resources. Most importantly, make a plan.

Management guru Jim Collins has some interesting words on this subject. He and Morten T. Hansen studied leadership in turbulent times. They looked at more than twenty thousand companies, sifting through data in search of an answer to this question: Why in uncertain times do some companies thrive while others do not? They concluded, "[Successful leaders] are not more creative. They're not more visionary. They're not more charismatic. They're not more ambitious. They're not more blessed by luck. They're not more risk-seeking. They're not more heroic. And they're not more prone to making big, bold moves." Okay, then what sets them apart?

"They all led their teams with a surprising method of self-control in an out-of-control world." In the end, it's not the flashy and flamboyant who survive; it is, instead, those with steady hands and sober minds. People like Roald Amundsen. In 1911, he headed up the Norwegian team in a race to the South Pole. Robert Scott directed a team from England. The two expeditions faced identical challenges and terrain. They endured the same freezing temperatures and unforgiving environment. They had equal access to the technology and equipment of their day. Yet Amundsen and his team reached the South Pole thirty-four days ahead of Scott. What made the difference? Planning.

Amundsen was a tireless strategist. He had a clear strategy of traveling fifteen to twenty miles a day. Good weather? Fifteen to twenty miles. Bad weather? Fifteen to twenty miles. No more. No less. Always fifteen to twenty miles. Scott, by contrast, was irregular. He pushed his team to exhaustion in good weather and stopped in bad. The two men had two different philosophies and, consequently, two different outcomes. Amundsen won the race without losing a man. Scott lost not only the race but he also lost his life and the lives of all his team members on the return trip to their base camp – some 150 miles away, but only 11 miles from the next depot. All for the lack of a good plan.

You'd prefer a miracle for your crisis? You'd rather see the bread multiplied, or the stormy sea turned glassy calm in a finger snap? God may do that. Then, again, he may tell you, "I'm with you. I can use this for good. Now let's make a plan." Trust him to help you. God's sovereignty doesn't negate our responsibility. Just the opposite. It empowers it. When we trust God, we think more clearly and react more decisively – like Nehemiah, who said, "We prayed to our God and posted a guard day and night to meet this threat." (Neh. 4:9 NIV) “We prayed . . . and posted.”

Stated differently? We trusted and acted. Trust God to do what you can't. Obey God, and do what you can. Don't let the crisis paralyze you. Don't let the sadness overwhelm you. Don't let the fear intimidate you. To do nothing is the wrong thing. To do something is the right thing. And to believe is the highest thing. In the words of Moses, “There are secrets the Lord our God has not revealed to us, but these words that he has revealed are for us and our children to obey forever.” (Deut. 29:29)

Keep calm and carry on.

Grace,

Randy