Greetje: New page: {{info}}For one last time the boy stood by
The woods of Hebron to reply,
If only by the stillness of
A grateful heart for all the love,
And good, and favor he had known,
Now...

Greetje — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 12:34:41 GMT

New page: {{info}}For one last time the boy stood by The woods of Hebron to reply, If only by the stillness of A grateful heart for all the love, And good, and favor he had known, Now...

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{{info}}For one last time the boy stood by The woods of Hebron to reply, If only by the stillness of A grateful heart for all the love, And good, and favor he had known, Now seventeen, and almost grown To be a man. He stood and spoke As softly as the winds that stroke The balsam trees at dawn, though no One heard his voice. He said, “I owe My life to you, though barely do I have a memory. I knew You as a child until you bore My brother Benjamin, and tore My heart in two because you died. I thank you for my life. You tried To name him Benoni, the “son Of sorrow,” but my father spun Another cord out of the torn And ragged shreds that still adorn The memory of your hard life. You were the first and favored wife, More precious than his flocks and herds, More sweet than honey-seasoned curds. Though you transcended all his land, He named him “son of my right hand,” Not signifying mastery, But as a place to lean when he Was old. And so he taught me, by My brother's name, that you can die, And yet somehow not die, but live, And make the greatest loss still give More life for almost sixty years. He taught me that a husband's tears Can water heaving soil where grows The tree of hope, and that the woes Of widowers and sons can make A woven cord that cannot break. I thank you for your life and death. I owe you now for every breath, And all that I have been assured By what my father has endured.” 

For one last time he looked back at The little room where Leah sat Beside his sister, dying there beneath her mother's rugged care, And said, beside the Hebron wood, “ I thank you, Leah, for the good That you have done to me. And I Believe, though it is strange, that high In God's design, your seed, and not Your sister's child, will rule the plot Of Jacob's history. My dreams Of brothers bowing down, it seems, Are but the momentary taste Of what some son of yours, high placed Above my little lord-like sheaf, Will drink down to the dregs. All brief And small, my momentary day Compared to his unending sway. For God has shown me in my dreams That even death must yield, and screams Of breech-birth mothers, bleeding to The grave will turn somehow, and through A greater scepter sing, than I Will ever wield before I die.”

And so all full of hope, and yet Not one step known, though all is set In heaven, Joseph goes to find His brothers and to ease the mind Of Jacob. Shechem was to be The place with pasture lands where he Would find them in the fields. But they Were not in sight. A stranger lay Beneath a Tamarisk and hailed The boy, “You lost, young man?”I've trailed My brothers down from Hebron. Do You know if any men passed through With flocks?”O, yes, I heard them say That they would graze their flocks today In Dothan, by the springs.”I thank you for your help.” The stranger drank Once from his wineskin pouch, and then He said, “A brother to these men?” “That's right.”I wouldn't go if I Were you.” So Joseph asked him, “Why?” “That's all I heard them talked about Young man. They aim to snuff you out. They hate your dreams. I've never seen Ten brothers be so mad and mean.” “I've heard them talk that way before.” “I'm telling you they're really sore, Young man. They're going to kill you if You go to Dothan — off a cliff, Or down a well, or slit your throat. I heard them talk about your coat, And how they'd show it to your dad, And tell him, just like they were sad, That some wild beast had taken you Away. That's what they're going to do!” “Perhaps. I better go.”Why don't You send somebody else? They won't Hurt anyone but you.”I told My father I would go. He's old, And he's my father. So I'll go. Besides, more than my brothers know Hangs on this simple trip. And what They now scheme and devise is not What they imagine it will be. They do not know, nor can they see What God designs. Farewell, my friend.” “Farewell to you. I hope your end Is not what they design. I hope Your God can rend the hateful rope With which they plan to bind you like A sacrifice before they strike You dead.” As Joseph turned to go, He said, “There is one thing I know: My God can rend a rope. Or he Can choose to set a prisoner free Another way. He is not bound By ropes. No human schemes confound His purposes. A rebel mind May bind God's messenger, but find That he has only bound him to Some new and holy mission through A means that God designed and chose: The agency of all his foes.”

The sun had set when Joseph came To Dothan. He could see the flame Encircled by his brothers near The springs. He stopped, and in his fear, He prayed, “O God of Abraham And Isaac, Jacob, Great I Am, Please give me strength to keep this long Obedience whatever wrong My brothers do to me tonight. And let me see the morning light.”

And as he prayed, they saw him on The southern hill, a shadow drawn Against the ashen sky, not near Enough to recognize, but plain To them with his uncommon cloak. His eldest brother Reuben broke The stillness with a shout and went To meet the boy. “Our father sent You here to see if we were well.” “You knew he would. And shall I tell Him you are well? Perhaps instead You plan to tell him I am dead. So much you love this aging man!” But Reuben said, “Now here's the plan. I'll tell you as we walk. They aim To kill you, yes, but I will claim That brother's blood should never stain Our hands lest we be cursed, then feign To have you die of thirst in one Of Dothan's pits. Before the sun Has set tomorrow night I'll come And pull you out and send you from This place to tell our father we Are well. Now say no more, they see That we are talking, and they know My heart is not their own.” And so It was that Reuben spared the boy, And kept him from their bloody ploy.

But in the morning at the break Of dawn, before he was awake, The plan of Reuben fell apart. And while he slept, the craft and art Of greed conceived another scheme, Another step toward Joseph's dream. A caravan was passing by Of Miduanites, along the high Road down to Egypt toward the coast Of Gaza. “Look, Levi, the most We can expect from Joseph's death Is trouble,” Judah said. “The breath Of our own father may come down With curses on our heads and drown Whatever pleasure we obtain In getting rid Joseph's bane. Here comes a caravan. Let's sell The boy, and then at least we'll tell The truth when we reply that we Don't know his fate or destiny. Why should there be no profit in This dreamer's death? He is our kin, And I should think as such would bring A handsome price, a silver ring Or maybe gold.” And so they brought Him up and he was quickly bought For twenty silver shekels by The men of Midian.

The sky Was crimson as the caravan Departed on its way again. And Joseph, fettered hand and foot, Watched Judah count the coins and put Them in a bag. Their eyes met one Last time, and Joseph whispered, “Son Of Leah, if you only knew The profit that will come to you From this embittered sale, you'd take Your coins and throw them in the lake, And kiss the hand of providence And stand in awe that your offense Will not bring judgement on your face, But endless years of saving grace.”

Now Joseph rides to Egypt bound. In thirteen years he will be crowned. This is the light of candle two. And it is meant for those of you Who ride in caravans of pain, All fettered now with rope and chain, And numb beneath the ice of crime, Betrayed by brothers for a dime. Lift up your eyes and look. The Lord Of Joseph reins today and will reward Your faith. Hold fast the mystery Of providence, and you will see How every evil that is meant God makes to serve his sweet intent.

Joseph, Part 2 - Revision history

Greetje: New page: {{info}}For one last time the boy stood byThe woods of Hebron to reply,If only by the stillness ofA grateful heart for all the love,And good, and favor he had known,Now...

Greetje: New page: {{info}}For one last time the boy stood by
The woods of Hebron to reply,
If only by the stillness of
A grateful heart for all the love,
And good, and favor he had known,
Now...