(Catch up on the series here.)
Sometimes we need to pause to acknowledge our doubts.
The seven years of stockpiling food ended, and the seven years of famine began.
This is one of the parts of the story where I have to pause because I have so many questions. My doubt is stronger than my faith when I get to this part. This is my Why do bad things happen? moment.
Remember when Joseph interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams and told him about the famine? Joseph said, God is letting Pharaoh in on what he is going to do … The fact that Pharaoh dreamed the same dream twice emphasizes God’s determination to do this and do it soon.
Immediately, I have questions: What’s the purpose of these fourteen years? Why would God allow a famine? Worse, why would God not only allow it, but orchestrate it? Why was God determined to do this? How could a loving God create a famine across an entire land?
I suppose we could say that God was merciful by letting Pharaoh in on the plan so Egypt could prepare for the famine, but wouldn’t it be more merciful not to send a devastating famine that would wipe out an entire land? I suppose we could also say this part of the story is an example of Grace and Goodness in the midst of troublesome times. And, again, I wonder if it wouldn’t be more gracious and good to eliminate the troubles altogether.
Some will say this is heretical thinking or that I’m standing on the slippery slope of prosperity gospel. But, really, what I’m dealing with here is plain-ol’ doubt and questioning.
When bad things happen—for example, a natural disaster, a fatal accident, the death of a child, war, broken relationships—I can somewhat comfort myself by thinking that life is made up of good and bad, joy and heartache, as well as all the things over which we have no control. But to read a story that says God intended a devastating famine across an entire land…well, I just can’t fathom it. It’s the same disbelief I have when I read about God causing a flood that wiped out almost all of creation.
I desperately want the hand and heart of God to be good, which is why I don’t know how to reconcile these stories with a God of love.
I know this story ultimately has a mostly-happy ending, but how many hearts and lives have to be broken before then?
Tomorrow, we’ll move on with the story as if it makes perfect sense, as if the doubt doesn’t linger. Tomorrow, we’ll settle back into a degree of certainty, but for today, we’ll sit with our questions.
I’m not sure if you’ll see this comment, since this blog is now nearly 2 months old. I have been working through your observations on the Joseph narrative and just now read this one. While all of your lessons are excellent, this particular one teases out questions that often are overlooked. Too often, Christians run to settle the tension between their theological stance, and the disruption of texts. I love you last phrase: “we’ll sit with our questions.” Sitting and wrestling with questions, not so much for answers, but for growth is what’s needed in our impatient haste for certitude. Again, thank you Rebekah, for being a poetic voice in a prosaic world.