Judah’s ire rose, along with a feeling of humiliation. He’d truly been played the fool. “Then let her keep the things I gave her,” he said. “I sent the young goat as we agreed, but you couldn’t find her. We’d be the laughingstock of the village if we went back again to look for her.”
“Indeed we would, for I asked everyone in the marketplace and beyond.” Hirah handed the goat to Judah.
“Keep him,” Judah said, not wanting to touch even the leather rein attached to this reminder of his folly. “It’s the least I can give you for helping me.”
Hirah offered Judah a slight bow. “For you, my friend, anything. But I thank you for the goat.”
“Will you stay for some food?” Judah didn’t want to talk any further, but it was the polite thing to ask.
“No, no. My wife will have supper waiting. And I should take care of the goat.” Hirah waved as he walked away. “I will come again soon.”
37
EGYPT, 1822 BC
Joseph rose early and watched the sunrise from his favorite spot overlooking the Nile. After this year, only one more year of God’s favor on the land remained. Then the years of famine and hardship would begin.
He rubbed the stubble on his chin, which the barber would shave as soon as he broke his fast. But he needed this time alone with God and His creation.
Would the famine affect the land in Canaan as well as Egypt? Surely God had given Pharaoh the dreams to spare more than just the people of Egypt. Were not the Hebrews, the children of Israel, His chosen people? Abraham and his seed were the ones who were given the promises, not the descendants of Ham. Yet it was to those very descendants that God had given the vision of His coming plans.
Memories of Benjamin, his father, Dinah, and his brothers rushed through his thoughts. How long it had been. Was his father still alive? He could find out, he told himself. He’d argued that very point with himself many a night before falling asleep. But he’d had no peace about seeking out his brothers. They had abandoned him, not he them. He would not return to them and grovel for their acceptance. They would likely not even recognize him now. And what power could he wield in Canaan?
He shook himself as the sounds of servants scurrying through the halls, waking to a new day, met his ears. The sun had crested the horizon now, and though he longed to linger, he dared not. He turned and moved into the house to eat, then went about his routine, allowing his servants to shave and dress him and anoint him with oils. One look in the bronze mirror showed a man he finally recognized but would never be completely comfortable with. He felt as though he put on a new skin each morn.
“My lord.” A servant interrupted his musings, which were becoming too close to melancholy. “Hamid is waiting for you in your visiting room.”
Joseph nodded. “Thank you.” He walked resolutely toward the ornate room where he conducted business with various people of import in Pharaoh’s kingdom.
Hamid rose and bowed at Joseph’s entrance.
Joseph motioned for him to sit as he took his own seat on the raised dais across from him. “What news do you bring?”
“Potiphar had to put down an uprising in the city of Giza. Some ruffians tried to break into one of the granaries. Apparently they don’t want to give Pharaoh his due, but why they wanted the grain now when the famine has yet to come, who can tell?” Hamid rested his hands on his knees.
“I assume Potiphar has handled it to our satisfaction?” Joseph crossed his arms as though warding off a chill. He liked Potiphar well enough, but his memories in the king’s prison because of Aneksi, not to mention the things Potiphar had done to the young servant girls who pleased him, left a sour taste in his mouth.
“He has put down the uprising, and the men accountable are being held in the king’s dungeon until they can be sentenced. Potiphar wants to know if you will be doing the sentencing.” Hamid rested his arms on his middle, which had grown larger since his marriage to Heba. “Pharaoh has given you that power, my lord. Unless you would rather one of the lesser authorities handle it.”
“Pharaoh might want to do so himself,” Joseph said, touching the arms of the chair. “But he also might not want to know about it.” He stroked his chin, debating what to do. “I will go to Pharaoh and ask him. The men should be executed, but I will not put men to death without his say-so.”
Hamid nodded. “There is also the problem of more grain than we can handle. I’ve ordered the building of more granaries and opened another whole city to house them. I’ve put more men to the task of building, and they should be done within a week. I did not give them an option to take longer.”
“Very good. But I wonder, do we even know how much grain is still coming in? With one more year of plenty ahead, you will need more than one additional storage city.”
“I will admit the amount has become impossible to measure.” Hamid’s expression held defeat. “I have honestly tried to keep track, as I know you like to give Pharaoh accurate accounts, but the amount is truly now beyond measure. Our system of accounting does not reach that high.”
“Then stop measuring,” Joseph said, smiling. “God has shown us great favor, and His ways are beyond measure, as is the grain He has allowed us to grow. We will focus on storage and make sure the buildings that house the grain are well guarded, protected from mice and other small animals. The air is dry enough here that we should not be in danger of mildew, but make sure the roofs on each building are secure, just in case. If rain or hail does come, it could ruin whole cities of grain.”
Hamid sat straighter and looked at Joseph with pride. “You are indeed wise, Joseph. Your God, whom I now believe is the only God, has given you wisdom beyond that of anyone in Egypt. Perhaps you came to us in a way you would not have chosen, but I speak for the people when I say we are grateful that God sent you here. You have saved Egypt. And me.”
Joseph glanced beyond Hamid, always slightly uncomfortable with praise. Had God sent him here? Joseph often doubted that fact, though he couldn’t deny that God had been with him through everything. “I am very glad you believe now, Hamid. But I haven’t saved Egypt. God will do so, as we will see after next year.”
He stood, and Hamid did the same, bowing again.
“Thank you, Hamid. If there is nothing else, I must see Pharaoh and find out what he would do with our thieves.” Joseph left and climbed into his chariot to speak with Pharaoh. The nagging thought that this famine could bring him together again with the men who had hated him would not leave. And the thought that God had actually sent him here and allowed him to go through so much heartache troubled him even more.
If God cared about him, why would He allow such things? Joseph could not understand it, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to accept Hamid’s words.
CANAAN
Tamar rose early, hoping to meet Talliya at the well, if she could keep what little she had eaten the night before in her stomach. Three months and a new year had come since she had been with Judah, and she knew now for certain that she was with child. But her mother and sister had managed to remain oblivious to her plight, and she had been too sick before dawn to meet Talliya since their last meeting.
Today she must see her. Would she still come? She had thought her friend would visit her at home, but most people stayed away because of her, and Talliya’s husband had not wanted her to come either. The sense of loneliness that brought only added to the fear and wonder that mingled in Tamar’s heart.