Dreams and Destiny - The Story of Joseph
Part 2 of the Joseph saga, told in 8 weekly chapters, a fictional account based on the history in the Bible.
Joseph was a dreamer.
Not in the sense of envisioning his life as more than shepherding. But in the sense that he had dreams at night—like everyone else.
One dream was about a wheat field with freshly cut stalks of wheat scattered on the ground, the stalks clumping themselves into sheaves of wheat bound by a cord, bundles about a foot thick, heads splaying out like the frayed end of a rope. Then eleven of the sheaves hopping into a group, turning toward him, and simultaneously bending over in his direction, their fluffy heads of grain almost touching the ground.
He jolted awake. What was that about?
A second dream added two figures to eleven stars, the sun and moon. They were ostensibly his dad and mom, also folding over in his direction … or could it be … bowing down to him.
He jolted awake. What was that about?
Then Joseph made a classic seventeen-year-old mistake: He shared his dreams with his brothers—and they had a field day. When his dad heard about the sun and moon, he asked, “What’s this? Your mother and I are actually going to bow down to you as well?”
“That’s not what I … it was just a dream,” Joseph said.
“No, no, I know. You want to know what they mean, right?”
“Yes! I do. I don’t want anyone bowing down to me, least of all you. But, dad, it was so real, not like a normal dream, when the sun bowed toward me, I could actually feel its additional heat.
“Well, I don’t know, maybe the dream was from God. Maybe he’s trying to tell you something.”
Joseph nodded and scrunched his eyes. “Okay. But what?”
Jacob exhaled a long breath and motioned for Joseph to join him on a walk. After a few steps in the cool night air he said, “I don’t have a perfect answer for you, son. All I know is that when I dreamed about that stairway to heaven and our descendants numbering the stars, it just felt different than a dream, more real, like you said. It lingered in my heart and weighed on me for years.”
Joseph gazed at the path, soothed by the monotony of their steps, but still felt confusion in his mind.
“And over time, it became a hope,” Jacob continued. “Not just a hope like you hope for rain. But a real hope, a deep one, like a conviction. Then twelve sons came along and I started seeing the numbers coming together. Then you developed into the strong, godly man you’ve become and I could see it taking shape.”
“So what do I do? Just hang on and hope the meaning becomes clear to me?”
“Yes. That’s all I can suggest. But don’t just casually hope. Really hope. Make it a godly hope. And maybe its meaning will come crashing through one day.”
A month later Jacob said to Joseph, “As you know, your brothers are grazing the flocks many days away. I want you to check on them and the flocks so you can bring word back to me.”
At dawn, on the day of his departure, Dinah was there to see him off. She hugged him tightly and whispered in his ear, "Take care, brother, you need to watch yourself. Stick close to Reuben…” Then her voice dropped to a hiss, “…and away from Simeon.”
She reached behind a shrub and pulled out a perfectly smooth, blond-colored, well-oiled shepherd’s staff. At the top was embedded a bronze ‘eye’ the exact shade of her eyes. “Here, this is for you. And that eye on top—that’s my eye—so you’ll know I’m always looking out for you and praying for you.”
After four days of travel, he neared the rocky mound on which his brothers camped. It was a biting cold morning and Joseph forgot he had on his plush, colorful robe.
When Simeon saw what looked like a desert-bloom streaking across the gray landscape to where they were, he said, “Here comes that rainbow dreamer! Let’s take him out and throw him into one of these cisterns. We can claim a ferocious animal devoured him. Ha! Then we’ll see what comes of his dreams.”
Reuben panicked. “No, no, no, let’s not take his life and shed blood. Let’s just throw him into the cistern.” He planned to rescue him after he’d taken his turn watching the flock out in the field.
When a grinning Joseph leaped onto the landing where his brothers stood, he was shocked by a flurry of violence. Levi spun him around, yanked off the robe, and dragged him to the edge of a gaping hole in the rock.
Sitting with his back to the humid air rising out of the cistern, Joseph yelled, "What are you doing to me?"
Simeon's sun-weathered face filled his vision, "What are we doing? The question is, what are you doing showing up here and prancing around in that robe?”
Joseph felt the creeping flush of shame. How did I forget again?
With an animalistic snarl, Simeon shoved him into the cistern.
Joseph smashed his head, caught his arm on a ledge, and jammed his ankle into a muddy crevasse at the bottom.
Several brothers chanted from the rim of the hole, “Star gazer to pit dweller. Star gazer to pit dweller.”
Joseph’s staff was hurled down, clanking several times before landing next to him, with Dinah’s eyeball staring up at him. How did she know? And how could they do this to me? This was more than rivalry … this was danger … this was evil. The smell of grilled lamb caught his starving stomach and he stewed that they ate while he lay in a pit like an animal.
Judah looked up from his stuffed pita and noticed a caravan of camels loaded with spices, balm and myrrh. His eyes lit up with an idea. “What will we gain, brothers, if we kill Joseph and cover up his blood? Why don’t we just sell him to these Ishmaelites? After all, he is our brother, our own flesh and blood.”
Within moments, Joseph was sprawled before Simeon who was talking to the man who appeared to be the leader of the caravan. He was a mountain of a man with a dirty orange turban perched on his head like a bird’s nest. Joseph heard silver coins clinking in his hands and had the chilling thought: They’re going to sell me.
Joseph kneeled before Simeon. "Don't do it! Don't sell me to these men. I'm your brother, Simeon, we have the same father."
Simeon said to the leader, "Just as I promised you—young, strong, and built for hard labor."
"Well, well," the man rumbled, his breath reeking of rotten eggs, "I like the thick chest and muscular arms.” He stepped back. “And handsome, too. He'll fetch a good price as a slave."
The word ‘slave’ sent chills down Joseph’s spine. "Think of father, Simeon, it will bring his gray head to the grave."
Simeon turned away, seeming to be pricked by his conscience.
Joseph sensed a softening and whispered, "Please. Don't take me from Father."
"Shut up!" Simeon roared, as if trying to scare away his guilt.
Twenty clinks of silver later and the orange-turbaned man was dragging Joseph to the camels.
Before heading home, the brothers slaughtered a goat and smeared its blood over Joseph’s robe. Simeon presented it to Jacob. “We found this on our way back home and we fear it’s Joseph’s.”
Jacob fingered the bloodied fabric and wailed, “It’s his!” He collapsed to his knees and rocked up and back with the robe clutched to his chest. “My son, my son!”
Slowly Jacob wobbled to standing, grabbed his tunic with both hands, and with a guttural cry ripped it open, exposing his sweat-drenched chest to the morning sun. “Why, God? Why?”
At that piercing cry, Simeon’s eyes darted to Judah. They both turned away and shared a look on their faces that might have been shock or maybe even regret.
Reuben looked away, too, guilt seeming to gnaw at him for not doing more.
But Benjamin didn’t look away. At ten, he was too young to grasp what was going on.
Neither did Dinah look away. Instead, those bronze eyes glared at the nine out-of-control haters of Joseph. These were the same men who, three years earlier, had destroyed another life precious to her.
Back then, Dinah had been raped by Shechem, a prince from a nearby city. But then Shechem changed. His heart was drawn to her and he came to love her and speak tenderly to her. And she, him. As the king's son, he could have chosen any woman in the kingdom to marry—but he chose her. He even agreed to the unthinkable bride price that he, his father, and every male in his city be circumcised.
But Simeon didn’t care how she felt about him. He never even asked. Instead, he took vengeance by driving a sword through Shechem's heart.
That day Simeon died to her.
Now he’d done it again. Now he’d stolen the one brother she needed in the world.
When she did finally turn away, she doubled down on her vow to never speak to him again.
Dinah’s story is told in Genesis 34 and this part of Joseph’s in Genesis 37.