Joseph looked into his eyes and wondered if his father was capable of seeing things clearly where anyone or anything connected to Rachel was concerned. “I will return, Father,” he said. But he was not sure his brothers would soften their attitudes toward him, for the simple reason that he was not their mother’s son.
8
A chill swept over Joseph, waking him in the middle of the night. He felt for his cloak to add to the wool blanket that covered his mat, then let it fall to the side as his dream came into clearer focus.
Another dream? What are You telling me, Adonai?
He rose and left the tent, wrapping his cloak around him, for the air was colder than it had been the month before when he’d had the first dream. Bright stars filled the sky and hung so low it felt as though he could touch them.
This time the dream had included the stars, the sun, and the moon. And they had all bowed before him. I don’t understand. He gazed intently at the heavens, but God did not explain what the dream meant or even speak to him. Dare he mention this one to his family?
He shook himself, returned to his tent, and curled into himself for warmth, but sleep eluded him. The dream remained vivid in his mind’s eye, and still it made little sense. The heavens bowed only to God, not to a mere human, and certainly not to him.
He pondered the meaning until the first sign of dawn filtered through the canvas. He rose and dressed before Benjamin awoke and walked to the central fire. He found Judah there warming himself. Joseph slowly approached to do the same, but he did not speak. This brother had been the most hostile to him.
Moments later Dinah joined them and greeted them both. “I did not expect to find the two of you here at the same time,” she said, looking from one to the other. “And yet you are not speaking.”
“There is nothing to say,” Judah said, looking her way and avoiding Joseph’s gaze.
Dinah gave him a scowl and turned to Joseph. “Is that your excuse as well? The least you could both do for our father is to be civil to each other. But none of you”—she looked at Judah—“can even say, ‘Peace be upon you’ to Joseph. I’m thoroughly disgusted with all of this childish behavior.”
Judah glared at her, but he did not respond, for at that moment their other brothers and their father joined them.
“Isn’t that perfect timing for you, my brother? Now you don’t have to say a thing to Joseph.” Dinah’s scowl at Judah could have cut stone. “I do hope you will find some grace in your speech today.” She left the courtyard to the sound of Benjamin’s calls.
Judah turned away and sank onto his seat. The brothers did the same, and Joseph found his place beside Jacob.
“How are you, my son?” Jacob asked Joseph, as if he were the only son sitting near.
Joseph looked at his feet but took courage when Dinah returned with Benjamin and sat beside him.
“I had another dream last night,” Joseph said slowly. The whispers of his brothers ceased as he spoke, and he felt the stares of each man without looking their way.
“You had one a month ago but did not explain it to me. So this time you must tell me,” Jacob said, his eyes alight.
Joseph immediately wished he had not said anything, but it was too late now to retract his words. He swallowed, focusing on his father. “In this dream, the sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed low before me.” He folded his hands in his lap, waiting for the onslaught from his brothers.
But it was Jacob who spoke. “What kind of dream is that?” he asked. “Will your mother and I and your brothers actually come and bow to the ground before you?”
“It was only a dream, Abba. I do not know what it meant. But it is not unlike the first one, and it causes me to wonder why I have them.” Joseph glanced in his brothers’ direction. Not one of them had a kind look in his eyes or said a single word to him.
“I do not know the meaning of such a thing,” Jacob admitted at last. “Dreams that are repeated usually mean something, as we all know. But if God is not speaking to you as He did to me after the dream at Bethel, then you cannot know what it means. Best to forget it.”
Joseph nodded, hoping his father’s words would appease his brothers. Jacob was right. He would do well to forget such dreams. They could only lead to trouble if he continued to tell of them.
Judah led his brothers to a pasture far from his father’s compound, the sheep following and grazing as they went. They kept the sheep and goats in the same general area, though not close enough to be in contact with each other. He needed all of his brothers to join him, and the fields were his most private place.
He climbed a slow rise in the hilly ground and turned to face them. “It has been weeks now since the dreamer has spoken to any of us, but our father is obviously considering the meaning of his dreams. And that cannot bode well for us.” He crossed his arms and searched each man’s face.
“What if Father gives Joseph authority over us before he rests with his fathers?” Simeon’s scowl was familiar, and Judah could not deny similar feelings.
“Or sends us off to the land of our grandfather Laban,” Naphtali said, stepping closer to the center of the group.
“Father would never do that. You remember the near fight he had with Grandfather at Mizpah.” Reuben straightened and moved closer to Judah. “We’ve discussed this before. We have nothing to fear about being sent away. We can’t let that rule our actions.”
Judah faced Reuben as the others murmured among themselves, their voices growing louder. “You say so, but you can’t know that. Why would you comfort us with something we cannot know for sure? Joseph could send us away once he is in power. Why would he want us near? We hate him and he knows it.”
The men quieted at Judah’s words, and he turned to face them again. “I think we need some time away from everyone.”
His brothers exchanged looks but said nothing.
“We can take the sheep to Shechem for a while. We’ll tell Father that the pastures here are thin and we need more space.”
“What if Joseph tells him otherwise?” Gad asked, adjusting his turban over his unruly hair. “He was always running to Father to tell him wild tales about us when he was with us in the fields. Just because he no longer goes out with us doesn’t mean we can trust him.”
“We were wild,” Dan said, laughing. “The boy wasn’t lying. We just shouldn’t have allowed him to catch us.”
More laughter followed, and Judah listened to his brothers comparing things they had done in the fields while they were supposed to be watching the sheep. The sudden prick of conscience hit him as he considered what their father had taught them was right. None of them had actually followed God as their father and grandfather wanted.
But what could their father expect? Their mothers had not been raised to know Adonai, though his own mother believed in Him now. Still, following after a God they could not see when the nations around them had objects to worship and guide them made no sense. It was far easier to believe in something objective, something he could touch, and follow rules that made sense than to worship his father’s God, who did not speak to men or give them direction often enough to know He was real.
That’s why Father favors Joseph. He believes in Father’s God.