Pharaoh took a deep breath, his brows drawn low. He ran a hand over his fake beard. Even this early he had dressed as king, though the kohl beneath his eyes did not mask his lack of restful sleep.
“In my next dream,” he continued, “I saw seven heads of grain, full and good, growing on a single stalk. After them, seven other heads sprouted—withered and thin and scorched by the east wind. The thin heads of grain swallowed up the seven good heads. I told this to the magicians, but none of them could explain it to me.”
Joseph held Pharaoh’s gaze, nodding once. “The dreams of Pharaoh are one and the same. God has revealed to Pharaoh what He is about to do. The seven good cows are seven years, and the seven good heads of grain are seven years; it is one and the same dream. The seven lean, ugly cows that came up afterward are seven years, and so are the seven worthless heads of grain scorched by the east wind. They are seven years of famine.”
Joseph paused a moment. Pharaoh’s attention remained on him.
“It is just as I said to Pharaoh,” Joseph continued. “God has shown Pharaoh what He is about to do. Seven years of great abundance are coming throughout the land of Egypt, but seven years of famine will follow them. The abundance in the land will not be remembered, because the famine that follows it will be so severe. The reason the dream was given to Pharaoh in two forms is that the matter has been firmly decided by God, and God will do it soon.”
He paused again, allowing Pharaoh to interject, but the king remained silent. Joseph drew in a breath and released it. His suggestion to the king could prove wise or foolish, but he sensed God prompting him to give it.
“And now,” he said, “let Pharaoh look for a discerning and wise man and put him in charge of the land of Egypt. Let Pharaoh appoint commissioners over the land to take a fifth of the harvest of Egypt during the seven years of abundance. They should collect all the food of these good years that are coming and store up the grain under the authority of Pharaoh, to be kept in the cities for food. This food should be held in reserve for the country, to be used during the seven years of famine that will come upon Egypt, so that the country may not be ruined by the famine.”
Pharaoh looked to his advisors, who drew near the king’s dais and nodded their heads.
“He speaks wisdom,” said one.
“Yes, we agree,” said another. “Who else in all of Egypt has such wisdom as this man?”
At last Pharaoh spoke to the many officials filling the room. “Can we find anyone like this man, one in whom is the spirit of God?”
Everyone nodded and murmured their agreement, and a collective sigh seemed to spread over the room.
Pharaoh smiled into Joseph’s eyes. “Since God has made all this known to you, there is no one so discerning and wise as you. You shall be in charge of my palace, and all my people are to submit to your orders. Only with respect to the throne will I be greater than you.”
Joseph blinked, not wanting to stare. Could this truly be happening? For Pharaoh to trust him so quickly . . . He did not know Joseph or whether his words would come true. Joseph’s heartbeat quickened as he saw in his mind’s eye the pieces of his life falling into place. Had this not also been his dream as a young man, in which men and women would bow to him? Had God been using this time in slavery and seclusion to prepare him for such a time as this?
“I hereby put you in charge of the whole land of Egypt.” Pharaoh pulled the signet ring from his finger and stepped from his raised seat, took Joseph’s hand, and placed the ring on Joseph’s finger. He summoned servants to bring a fine robe and jewels.
Joseph focused on the servants, who draped a striped collar about his neck along with a multicolored belt about his waist. The cloak that covered his bare shoulders also bore, to Joseph’s shock and amazement, the very colors that were once woven into the coat his father had made for him. Not wanting to stare overmuch, he looked up at Pharaoh as the last golden bracelet was placed over his right arm.
“There. Now you are a prince in Egypt, second only to me. I am Pharaoh, but without your word no one will lift hand or foot in all Egypt. You must have a wife of Egypt as well.” He clapped his hands and summoned another servant, who hurried to do his bidding.
“I give you the name Zaphenath-Paneah,” Pharaoh said. Turning to another servant, he commanded, “Ready a chariot.” To Joseph he said, “You will ride through the streets of Egypt as my second-in-command.”
Pharaoh, surrounded by guards, left the room, and Joseph followed the servants, still reeling from his quick turnaround from prisoner to prince.
Pharaoh mounted his chariot, which led the way. Joseph’s chariot gleamed in the sunlight, and Joseph stepped into it, his confidence slowly growing.
Crowds lined the streets, and the people shouted, “Make way!” as Pharaoh’s driver expertly guided Joseph through Egypt’s streets from city to city, until they returned to the king’s palace near midday.
“We will eat,” Pharaoh said as they alighted at the palace gates, “and then you will meet your wife. Tomorrow we will celebrate your wedding, and you will live here in the governor’s quarters of my palace. The palace is grand, and while one half is for my personal use, there are many rooms and gardens and pools and places for my personnel, courtiers, scribes, and advisors to meet. You will be head over all, second only to me. You will live in the best of rooms in the palace.”
Joseph bowed low, again overcome.
A few moments later, as they sat together at a table overflowing with food, Pharaoh asked, “Is there anything you would like me to give you to make your home the way you want it?”
Joseph shook his head. “I am overwhelmed by all you have already given, my lord. How could I ask the king for anything else?”
Pharaoh studied him as he plucked a ripe olive from a golden tray. “But there is something you would like. Your eyes tell more than you know.”
“Pharaoh is an astute king,” Joseph said, careful not to refer to him as a god as so many people did.
“Ask me for anything,” Pharaoh said.
Joseph ran a finger around the golden cup, then met Pharaoh’s gaze. “There is one thing. When I served in Potiphar’s house, I met a man who is a fine steward. His name is Hamid. I would like him to work for me.”
“Consider your request granted.” Pharaoh smiled and spat the olive pit into a bowl.
Joseph smiled back. He would ask for nothing more, though he would one day look for a way to also free Heba from Potiphar’s house. To ask for her now might make the pharaoh think he had a personal interest in her, which could upset his new wife. Perhaps she could become Hamid’s wife in the future, but for now, Joseph had done what he could. He could trust Hamid, and the man would make an excellent addition to his house. It would be fair justice on Aneksi, who no doubt still held the man captive to do her will.
27
Asenath stood at the window in the opulent rooms of her father’s estate. The sky still held a pink tinge, as Ra had not yet fully crested the ridge in the east. How quickly her life had changed! Was it only three days ago she was called to her father’s chambers and told she was to marry a foreigner on Pharaoh’s orders?
Zaphenath-Paneah. An Egyptian name, but her servants had quickly discovered that this man, a Hebrew, had just come from the king’s prisons and risen to second-in-command over all of Egypt. And she was to be his wife.