We’re reading about Jacob and his twelve sons right now, at church and in our small group. While Genesis 37 turns toward Joseph, I can’t shake a soundtrack that won’t leave my head. My all-time favorite musical is Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice. I’ve known every song and most of the lyrics since I was in high school. One of the early Broadway cast leads was a friend of my oldest brother, and her voice was a gift from God — delicate tenderness and booming power, sometimes in the very same stanza.
Her name was Laurie Beechman. When the creators of the original 1977 Broadway production of Annie heard her perform, they rewrote a section of “N.Y.C.” just to showcase her voice, and it became her standout moment in the show. My brother introduced her to my Mom, Dad, and me outside a stage door one night after a performance. I was so starstruck, I’m not sure I uttered a single word. It was her role as Narrator in Joseph that truly catapulted her career. The show itself began as a 15-20 minute Easter cantata at the Colet Court School in 1968 and went on to become a smash hit on and off Broadway. Tracing Joseph’s footsteps through Genesis, I can’t help but smile at the blissful, oblivious audacity of his youth.
Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers, they hated him all the more. He said to them, “Listen to this dream I had: We were binding sheaves of grain out in the field when suddenly my sheaf rose and stood upright, while your sheaves gathered around mine and bowed down to it.”
His brothers said to him, “Do you intend to reign over us? Will you actually rule us?” And they hated him all the more because of his dream and what he had said.
Genesis 37:5-8
In Middle Eastern culture, dreams carried enormous weight. But the stage was already set for conflict long before Joseph opened his mouth. He was the son of Israel’s old age, marked by the ketonet passim, the ornate robe. The coat of many colors was a walking reminder of Jacob’s favoritism, and his brothers couldn’t even speak peaceably to him.
Joseph never claimed to understand the dreams, only that he’d had them. His brothers, threatened, made other plans to keep those dreams from coming true. And in doing so, they became the very instruments that brought them to pass.
His life would travel from favorite son to a man marked for death, thrown in a pit, sold to nomadic travelers, and imprisoned for roughly thirteen years, before he became the second-most powerful man in one of the world’s greatest dynasties. Along the way he swallowed deferred hope, betrayal, and the crushing weight of being forgotten by the people he cared about. Yet Joseph never feared being abandoned by God. He didn’t curl up in a corner. He took action and found his way through despair by staying busy, by leading and serving exactly where he was.
But while Joseph was there in the prison, the Lord was with him; he showed him kindness and granted him favor in the eyes of the prison warden. So the warden put Joseph in charge of all those held in the prison, and he was made responsible for all that was done there. The warden paid no attention to anything under Joseph’s care, because the Lord was with Joseph and gave him success in whatever he did.
Genesis 39:20-23
The most meaningful part of this passage is the immediate pivot. One verse puts Joseph in a dungeon, and the very next reads: “But the Lord was with Joseph and showed him steadfast love.” Our greatest fear in a crisis is usually that we’re alone, that God has looked the other way. This text offers presence as the antidote. In a place defined by confinement and isolation, Joseph experienced hesed, the Hebrew word for steadfast, covenant love. Fear loosens its grip when you realize your environment can’t touch your relationship with God.
Fear pushes us toward passivity. We assume that because our circumstances are limited, our lives no longer matter. Joseph pushed back by serving exactly where he was, taking responsibility for the small things in a terrible place and reclaiming his sense of agency. Leadership is one of the most powerful tools we have against the despair that fear brings.
My wife and I counted six friends who’ve gone to be with the Lord since last autumn, and that’s a lot of people to lose in a short stretch of time. I’m not going to pretend we’re big, bold, and fearless, because we’re not. Even as believers, even with the promise of eternity, most of us fear something about death, whether it’s the diagnosis, the treatments, losing the people we love, or just the uncertainty of it all. It’s frightening, even when we know there’s a home waiting for us with Christ.
I’m no fan of public speaking. I avoid it whenever I can, which is probably why I’ve officiated six weddings. If I let my fears run my life, I wouldn’t grow. I’d be letting others down, letting myself down, letting God down. This devotional isn’t about telling you never to fear. It would be disingenuous for me to say don’t be afraid to die, because we all fear some part of not-living. God wired us with a fierce imperative to fight to stay alive.
But fear can build fake walls around us, like a mouse stuck in a maze. Some fear is instinctive — fire, predators, physical danger. That’s what people call the “lizard brain,” referring to the amygdala and basal ganglia, the reptilian complex, the most primitive part of the human brain, responsible for survival instincts, aggression, and automatic functions like breathing. It triggers fight-or-flight and always favors safety and comfort over risk or logic.
What we shouldn’t fear are the things that don’t actually threaten our lives but shape us when we let them win. Life is too short to sweat the small stuff. Worrying about these things makes us weak and diminishes God and His promises.
Pastor Louie Giglio said recently in a sermon on Joshua, imagining what the enemy might say about the Anakim, Rephaim, and Nephilim:
“But the enemy in the promised land already knows that your God is God. He already knows not that you are God, but that your God is God.
(I am the enemy) And I hope that you don’t do that. I hope that you don’t come and take what God has given to you, and an inheritance for your children and your grandchildren. I hope you don’t take a sound mind. I hope that you don’t take a peaceful heart. I hope you don’t take confidence in God because those are all the tools I’m using to keep you down. I hope you don’t do that, because if you do, I’m done. I know who your God is, and I know that your God is great.”
Look ahead, look around, and look behind at your life. Don’t let small moments get too big. When opportunities present themselves, whether meeting someone, learning from someone, or witnessing God’s calling on your life, step into it. If we’re living in fear, we’ve forgotten who God is and what He can do.
When it came to God, Joseph always remained humble. His faith was real and never reached for what belonged to God alone. There’s a lot to learn in that posture. What God gives us is ours to steward. What is His remains His.
Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I had a dream, and no one can interpret it. But I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it.”
“I cannot do it,” Joseph replied to Pharaoh, “but God will give Pharaoh the answer he desires.”
Genesis 41:15-16
Down at the other end of the scale
Joseph is still doing time in jail
For even though he is in with the guards
A lifetime in prison seems quite on the cardsBut if my analysis of the position is right
At the end of the tunnel there’s a glimmer of light
For all of a sudden indescribable things
Have shattered the sleep of both peasants and kingsStrange as it seems
There’s been a run of crazy dreams
And a man who can interpret could go far
Could become a star
— Pharaoh Story, Andrew Lloyd Webber & Tim Rice
Life Application:
- Pick one thing fear has been keeping you from and do it this week. Not the big dramatic thing — just the next right step. Call the person. Say yes. Show up where you are, even if it’s not where you planned to be. Joseph led a prison he didn’t choose. Hesed showed up anyway. It’ll show up for you too.