By Mary Vee
Joseph's wife, Asenath, walked into his office with a tray of food. "You've been working too hard. You barely slept last night. Take a break to eat something."
"How do you always know?" He plopped back in his chair and smiled at her. "I must admit, I am tired." He closed his eyes for a moment then sat up. "Pharaoh is counting on me. Egyptians are hungry--"
She followed him to their balcony. "God has filled my head with these great ideas. I must admit--it's exciting. Here let me show you what I've been working on."
He grabbed her hand and led her to his worktable. "For now, the people will be able to buy food with their money."
Asenath looked up at him. "What will they do when they've spent all their money?"
"Exactly! That's what I asked. I've mapped out a plan how to help the Egyptians, yet honor Pharaoh. See, over her--"
A servant knocked on the door. Joseph looked up. "Yes? Is there a problem?"
The servant bowed to Joseph. "Foreigners have come to buy food. What do you want us to do?"
Joseph nodded. "I'll be right there." He signaled the servant to leave then turned to his wife. "The famine is greater than Egypt!"
"But, you can't give them our food." Asenath ran to the balcony. "What if we run out before the famine ends? Think of our people, think of your sons."
Joseph stepped next to her. "Don't worry. Everything will work out. God warned of the famine to help us prepare. He provided not only grain for all Egypt to last seven years, but also, food for others. We must share. Egypt will be honored among all other nations."
She turned to him. "You're really sure God will make the food last seven years, aren't you."
He took a deep breath and smiled. "Yes. I truly am."
Asenath shrugged and laughed. "Then, dear husband, you must go help those foreigners."
Joseph ran down the stairs and out to the distribution area. The grand plaza, set up with rows for people to line up for food, was packed. Trained guards kept the crowds moving in a peaceful order. One approached Joseph. "The fourth line, over there, has the foreigners I spoke to you about."
"Yes, I see. They're clothes alone tell they're not Egyptian." Joseph shifted his weight to one leg. "We'll have plenty to sell to others who are starving. Sell them grain."
The guard walked to the table and whispered to the worker. Joseph followed.
As he neared one table, he noticed a group of ten men talking with each other. They looked familiar. He listened to their voices. Could it be? He turned away then looked back. No, not possible. He squinted to see their faces. Those are--my brothers!
Joseph couldn't make up his mind how he felt. Anger pushed through his veins because his brothers sold him as a slave. Disappointment crushed his heart because he'd been robbed of the chance to be with his father or brothers in many years. Concern made his heart race because he didn't know if his father was still alive. Should he run up to brothers and greet them? Would they care--would they even care? What should Joseph do?