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Stripped and thrown into a pit. By his brothers. Sold into slavery. By his brothers. Lied about and betrayed. By his brothers.
Later, displeasing his overlord’s wife, she lied about him and he was thrown into prison.
By any account, Joseph has been traumatized.
Listen carefully to William Stafford’s poem, “The Way It Is.”
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
Joseph was able to navigate his trauma, because he did not let go of his thread.
And what was Joseph’s thread?
The world of dreams. His dreams and the dreams of others. What enabled Joseph to keep moving through the overwhelming circumstances he found himself in again and again was his connection to the Spirit through dreams.
But, even he didn’t see the Spirit’s presence right away.
Sometimes it takes a jolt, an epiphany, to see the presence of God’s redeeming spirit within the unique threads of our lives.
Did Joseph sense God’s presence in the pit? There is no mention of it.
Did Joseph sense God’s presence when he was sold into slavery? There is no mention of it.
Did Joseph sense God’s presence when he was imprisoned? There is no mention of it.
Joseph journeyed through many harrowing chapters of his life before he was able to see that God could use what harmed him for the good. It can be almost impossible to see how God is present and active in our lives when we are in the throes of harm, grief, or despair; when we are or feel imprisoned or in the pit; when we are betrayed or are facing our challenges alone.
Often, it is only later, sometimes much later, when confronted with a completely unexpected revelation – like Joseph’s brother’s standing before him – that the pieces of life’s puzzle snap into place.
In perhaps one of the most meaningful lines in all of scripture, Joseph says, “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today.”
In the fulfillment of Joseph’s earliest dreams, he is – at last – able to see the hand of God at work in his traumatized life. Suddenly, all that he has gone through has meaning.
How we understand our own difficulties and traumas can make all the difference between conducting our lives from a sense of grievance or gratefulness, from a sense of God’s absence or God’s presence.
Unexamined trauma can lock us into a self-protective mode – distant from our own hearts, distant from others, distant from a sense of God’s presence. Unexamined trauma can metastasize into a spirit of resentment, pessimism, and hopelessness. It can hijack our brains and close our hearts.
But, if we can embrace a wider perspective… if we believe that God can use even the ways we have been harmed for the good, our spirits can be unstuck, free to know God’s amazing grace and to become instruments of that grace for others.
For me, Huntington’s Disease has been the assailant that has traumatized me and my family, again and again: as a child watching my mother’s psychosis; as a tween being told I had a 50/50 chance of inheriting it; as a young woman being so afraid I had it, that I presumed I would never marry or have children; as a family member watching my grandfather, mother, aunt, and brother all struggle and die from it.
Huntington’s has harmed me and my family; and it has also been the thorn in my side that God has used for good: to build my faith, to make me more compassionate, to teach me what it means to care for others, to be inspired by the courage of those who have it, but don’t stop living or loving others- like my brother.
The story that I tell about the role of Huntington’s in my life is not the story that others whose families are affected by Huntington’s would tell. We dare not insist that others embrace a narrative that says God will use your harm for the good.
In the midst of the harm, like Joseph was for much of his life, you often can’t see or feel that good will come out of your pain. It simply doesn’t work to tell someone in despair… “don’t worry, God will use your pain for the good.”
When it comes to our spiritual journeys, each individual must write their own story. Just because I found God as a youngster at risk for Huntington’s doesn’t mean that others who are at risk will necessarily have the same spiritual experience. We can actually cause additional harm if we insist that people recognize God’s presence in their lives before they are ready or able to do so.
It is the nature of the spiritual journey that we come to an understanding of the thread in our lives, of God’s presence, on our own timeline. No one else can tell us what our thread is. And as much as we might want more than anything to rescue someone else from the painful parts or feelings about their journey – to convince them that God is at work in their lives – it is not for us to do. There is nothing more intimate, more personal and unique, than our relationship with God. To recognize where God is in the midst of our traumas and trials is part of the wrestling each person must do for themselves. Like Jacob. And Joseph.
At the same time, our faith can often be bolstered by stories like Joseph’s. We may feel encouraged to persist through our trials when we hear, “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today.”
A few years ago, I met on the back patio of the church with a young couple preparing to marry. When I learned that Al’s mother, Nancy, had Huntington’s, I was astonished – since my mother, Nancy, had Huntington’s too. My heart felt tender as I listened to his story and I felt a particular sense of connection to him. It seemed like God was able to use something that had harmed me for the good of the couple sitting in front of me.
But, if I said to Al, some day you’ll look back on what you and your family are going through and be able to see God at work, it would have been spiritual abuse. When it comes to walking with others who are in the midst of life’s most painful moments, it is most helpful to simply be present, to listen, to not get ahead of where the other person is spiritually or emotionally. Remember, it is up to each of us to find and follow and speak about our own unique threads. Just yesterday, I saw Al’s wife and she told me that Al recently learned, that he does not have Huntington’s. It was emotional for both of us.
At this point in your spiritual journey, have there been moments when like Joseph, you have recognized how God used something harmful in your life for the good? (I just saw Tom Mannle out of the corner of my eye and I am remembering something he is doing. Tom has been part of a support group for caregivers of people with Alzheimer’s. But, even after his wife, Ann, died, he continued to participate in the group to be a support to others.) So, I’m going to ask you again, have there been moments in your life that you have recognized how God used something harmful in your life for the good of others?
If so, how has that helped you find peace and healing? To be an instrument of grace for others?
For the ways God uses what has harmed us for the good, we can give thanks. This awareness can become an anchor in our lives. Because the next time we face a trial, we can remember that God can use what we are going through for our own good or the good of others.
But, if that is not the case for you and you are in the midst of deep pain or trauma, ask God to reveal God’s presence to you. See if you can be open to God using your troubles for the good. And no matter what – Don’t. Let Go. Of The Thread. Amen.