Dying in Love, Forgiveness, Sacrifice, and Faith

Guys, we made it: Genesis chapter 50. This has been a long and arduous journey—an odd one for really all of us, I guess. When we began studying Genesis, none of us were here. None of us were at Sojourn. Sojourn didn’t exist for the majority of us when we began studying Genesis. I first began teaching Genesis at Westfield. Pastor Ethan began teaching Genesis at Jessup Road. Certainly, we couldn’t have predicted or imagined the path the Lord would lead us on, but He has been faithful every step of the way.

We’re closing one of the sweetest books ever written. Genesis chapter 50. So please listen closely as I begin reading from Genesis 49, verse 28, and continue through all of chapter 50:

“All these are the twelve tribes of Israel. This is what their father said to them as he blessed each with a blessing suitable to them.

“Then he commanded them, saying, ‘I am to be gathered to my people and buried with my fathers in the cave that is in the field of Ephron the Hittite, the cave that is in the field of Machpelah, to the east of Mamre, in the land of Canaan, which Abraham bought from Ephron the Hittite to possess as a burying place. There they buried Abraham and his wife Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah his wife, and there I buried Leah. The field and the cave that is in it were bought from the Hittites.’

“When Jacob finished giving instructions to his sons, he pulled his feet up into bed, took his last breath, and was laid to rest with his ancestors.

“Then Joseph threw himself onto his father’s face, wept over him, and kissed him. Joseph then ordered his servants, the physicians, to embalm his father. So the physicians embalmed Israel. It took forty days; that’s how many were required for embalming. And the Egyptians wept for him for seventy days.

“When the days of mourning for him were over, Joseph spoke to Pharaoh’s household, saying, ‘If I have found favor in your eyes, please speak on my behalf to Pharaoh, telling him that my father made me swear: “I am about to die. In the tomb which I dug for myself in the land of Canaan, there you shall bury me.” Now, therefore, let me go up to bury my father; then I will return.’

“And Pharaoh answered, ‘Go up and bury your father, as he made you swear.’

“So Joseph went up to bury his father, accompanied by all of Pharaoh’s servants, the elders of his household, and all the elders of the land of Egypt, along with his own household and brothers. Only their children, their flocks, and their herds remained in the land of Goshen. And he went up with a large entourage of chariots and horsemen; it was quite a crowd.

“When they reached the threshing floor of Atad beyond the Jordan, they mourned there intensely and sorrowfully for seven days. The locals, the Canaanites, witnessed this profound mourning and believed it was a deeply grievous mourning by the Egyptians. Hence, they named that place Abel-mizraim, beyond the Jordan.

“Thus his sons did for him as he commanded them. They carried him to the land of Canaan and buried him in the cave of the field of Machpelah, which Abraham bought from Ephron the Hittite. After burying their father, Joseph returned to Egypt with his brothers.

“When they saw that their father was dead, they feared Joseph might hate them for their past actions. They sent a message asking Joseph to forgive their transgressions and those of their servants. Upon hearing this, Joseph wept, but he reassured his brothers: ‘Do not fear. Am I in the place of God? You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to save many lives today. I will provide for you and your little ones.’ He comforted them and spoke kindly.

“So Joseph stayed in Egypt along with his family. Joseph lived for 110 years. He saw Ephraim’s children down to the third generation, including those of Machir, Manasseh’s son, as if they were his own.

“Before he died, Joseph told his brothers, ‘I’m leaving, but God will come back to you and take you from this land to the one He promised Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Promise me that when God does, you’ll bring my bones with you.’

“So Joseph died at the age of 110. They embalmed him and placed him in a coffin in Egypt.”

This is the word of the Lord. Amen.

Guys, this past Wednesday morning, I woke up in pain, and it was a pain hitherto unfamiliar to me. It was a pain I couldn’t ignore. I knew something was wrong, so I woke Amber and told her we needed to go to the ER. I consulted my pocket doctor, ChatGPT, which said what I was experiencing could be appendicitis and that I didn’t want it to rupture.

We steadily made our way to the car, but on our journey to the hospital, things weren’t getting any better. In fact, the pain was so intense at times that I felt my vision begin to blur. I thought, “I think I’m going to pass out. I think I’m just going to black out here.”

At no point was I really panicky. I wasn’t afraid. Even if it turned out to be appendicitis, I was sure everything would be fine. That’s something doctors have to deal with all the time. This is going to be okay.

But if it weren’t okay, and if I blacked out now, I guessed there was a possibility that I could go from unconscious in the car to unconscious on the operating table. These might be my last words. These might be my last waking moments with my wife.

So I turned to Amber and told her, “Babe, listen, I’m not worried. I’m sure everything’s going to be fine. But I’m in a lot of pain, and I feel like I could pass out at any moment. If something were to happen, I just want you to know that I love you. I love our kids so much, and it’s going to be okay. God will take care of you. God will provide for you. Everything is going to be just fine.”

As it turned out, everything was indeed fine. It was just kidney stones. It’s not as if that’s a small thing, but relative to other things, it is quite small. Those little boogers do hurt; I can attest to that.

But what if it’s something more? What if it’s something worse? Was I, in that moment, prepared to die? What about you, my friend? Are you prepared to die?

Genesis chapter 50 chronicles the death of a man who, I think, very clearly was prepared to die. Joseph—we’ve followed his story for some thirteen chapters—dies in chapter 50, and he dies well. He dies in love, forgiveness, sacrifice, and faith. Those will be our four points of study this morning. We’ll organize our time around those four: love, forgiveness, sacrifice, and faith.

In an attempt to nurse my voice and ensure we make it through the morning with me still speaking, we’re going to do things a little differently. We’re going to have a bit more dialogue. This will be part sermon, part Bible study. My questions this morning are not rhetorical; I’m inviting your cooperation as we think through this passage together.

Let’s begin with the first point. I’m arguing that Joseph died in love. How do we see Joseph’s love in this passage?

Let’s examine Manasseh’s son. Here it is: “And Joseph saw Ephraim’s children to the third generation.” That’s a reference to chapter 48, where Jacob crossed his arms and blessed Joseph’s sons, effectively adopting them into the tribes of Israel. So here Joseph takes Manasseh’s grandsons as his own, showing that his love extended even to future generations. It’s kind of an interesting thing, but certainly Joseph loved his family. That’s clear.

What other ways can we see Joseph loving his family in the text?

His brothers asked for his forgiveness because they felt the sin of what they had done, but Joseph never viewed it that way. For him, it was God who controlled what happened to him. So he always had love for his brothers, even when they doubted that he loved them.

There’s so much we could say about that scene, but I’ll save it for the forgiveness section. You’re absolutely right—it is love. What a beautiful expression of love.

What about chapter 50, verse 1? Any love in that verse?

Oh, definitely. Joseph loved his dad. He loved him. He is grieving his father. Think about it: Joseph had seventeen years with his dad, and his dad loved him well. Remember, he was the beloved son. He was given a coat of many colors. Then he was separated from his father for about twenty years before being reunited for another seventeen. Now, despite having been reunited with his father, he ends up losing him once again.

And my goodness, what a scene of mourning. Joseph is beside himself with grief. People often say that grief is the measure of our love. In fact, just this past week we remembered the 9/11 tragedy. It was Queen Elizabeth II who wrote letters to many of the surviving families of those who died in the World Trade Center attacks. She said, “Nothing can be said to take away the anguish and pain of these moments. Grief is the price we pay for love.”

It’s true, isn’t it? Sometimes our grief reflects how much we loved.

How does our culture today tell us to handle pain? “Get over it.” “Move on.” Or even, “Don’t get close in the first place.” We’ve all had relationships, maybe with family or friends, that hurt because we gave ourselves fully and didn’t receive the love we wanted.

Culture tells us to cut these people out. Cut all the toxic people out of your life. Suddenly, your life starts mirroring your social media feed. If someone posts something you dislike or acts in a way you disagree with, it’s easy to hit “unfollow” or “block.” We do this not just online but also in our daily lives.

That isn’t necessarily what Joseph did. Joseph seemed guarded with his family at first. In chapters 41 to 44, he tested his brothers to see if they were trustworthy enough to be around him or in Egypt. But despite that, he truly loved them and cared for them deeply.

We must give ourselves and love others prudently and helpfully. It’s not always easy or enjoyable, is it? We’re quite reluctant to fully trust someone we perceive as potentially harmful. Again, notice what I’m saying. I’m not saying you don’t have barriers or guardrails or boundaries. It’s prudent and helpful to enter into relationships to the extent that they are prudent and helpful, but that doesn’t always mean it has to be easy or fun.

Love can be very costly at times. But let me tell you: when we love as Joseph does, it has this amazing way of multiplying in others’ lives. When you truly love and care for people, they tend to love and care for the things that matter to you.

You can see how the Egyptians react to Joseph when he weeps over his father and asks Pharaoh for permission to bury him. Pharaoh grants it, not only allowing Joseph to go but also sending a group of Egyptians with him. Indeed, all the prominent figures are present. This isn’t just a handful of unknowns who happen to attend; it’s the main players in Egypt who accompany Joseph to bury Jacob in the Promised Land.

It’s significant that they’ve come. It shows they truly care. Not only do they accompany him, but they mourn with him, weeping over his father’s passing. It is such a great weeping, such a great commotion, that the Canaanites take notice of it in the land.

Do you see that in the text? Look at verse 11. The Canaanites say, “This is a grievous mourning by the Egyptians.” They literally name the place after their grieving.

What do you guys think about that? If you love people well and care for them well, does that have any effect on them? Do you tend to love and care for the things that those whom you love also love and care for?

I think that’s an important component even in how we lead people to Jesus. I’ve played this card more than once with someone. I’ve said, “Listen, you know that I love you. You know that I care for you. And I want you to know that I love you and care for you because God loves you. He loves you, and He loves me, and I love Him. And I want you to love Him too. So I’m asking you, out of respect and love for me, to give this an honest shot. Come to church with me, or read the Bible with me.”

Sometimes people join me out of their love for me and learn to love what I love. When you love people well, it creates a ripple effect in their lives, influencing them to love what you love.

Joseph was such a man. He dedicated his life to loving others and practicing forgiveness. So how do we perceive Joseph’s forgiveness in this passage?

It seems quite straightforward to him because he’s considering the broader perspective. They’re still worried about what happened seventeen, twenty, thirty, and forty years ago. It happened, and they’re still dwelling on it. Joseph’s perspective is, “Listen, it’s fine. It worked out well, didn’t it? God knows what He’s doing.”

I think this was quite easy for him to do—perhaps even easier for Joseph than it would be for me. After all, Joseph is a better man than I am.

But let’s recall the story. Let’s consider what actually happened. They have buried Jacob, Joseph’s father, at this point. To clarify, Joseph had many brothers. There were twelve of them altogether. Way back when, at the age of seventeen, his brothers threw him into a pit. Most wanted to kill him, but one suggested enslaving him instead for profit. So they sold him into slavery in Egypt, where life remained harsh for years.

He suffered greatly, facing maltreatment, betrayal, and abandonment in a dungeon. It was a really, really hard life. That was something his brothers had done to him.

And so his brothers, with that in their mind’s eye, think, “Dad has died.” Clearly, Joseph loved Dad. Did you not see how much he was crying? Remember Dad? He loved Dad. And this idea comes into their minds: Maybe Joseph has only been nice to us these seventeen years in Egypt because of his love for Dad. Now that Dad is gone, they start to fret. They think, “How Joseph really feels about us—and rightfully so—is about to come out.”

So they come up to him and say, “Hey, listen, Dad wanted us to tell you this: Please forgive us for the wrongs we’ve done to you.” And they fall down once more, bowing before Joseph as his dream comes true. Again, they bow before him, begging for forgiveness.

Joseph’s immediate response? He forgives them. In fact, look at verse 17. He tells them, “Don’t be afraid.” Even before that, he wept. Joseph wept when they spoke to him.

This is the seventh time in Joseph’s story that he weeps. He never once weeps for himself. Why do you think Joseph is crying here?

From their sorrow.

What do you mean by that, Leah?

Their guilt—the fact that they’ve carried it around for all those years.

Yeah, I think he hurts even for them. He loves them that much. You know, it’s one thing to forgive someone, but it’s another thing to forgive in a way that ensures they truly understand they’re forgiven. We want our forgiveness to be clear and not hold their past against them.

How does Joseph demonstrate this kind of forgiveness here? All’s well that ends well—but what if it didn’t end well? Doesn’t it always end well? Not in my life. I find it very hard to forgive sometimes. Some things people do aren’t easy to let go of.

What drives Joseph to forgive so completely? His heart and mind reveal a few clues. There are at least three factors behind his extraordinary forgiveness. Can you spot them?

In verse 19, he says, “Fear not, for am I in the place of God?” So he knows where he stands at all times.

At least in how the ESV translates this, I think it gets it right. It renders it as a question: “Do not fear, for am I in the place of God?” He’s asking the question and then assuming the answer: No, I’m not.

And what does he mean by that? “Am I in the place of God?” What is God to do that he isn’t to do in that situation?

Judge.

That’s right, Leah. He’s saying, “Am I the one who judges you?” No. That’s left to God. That is left to God and God alone.

Which, by the way—just a quick aside—isn’t this a beautiful bookend to the book of Genesis? We started the book with a couple who sought to take the place of God. When Eve saw that the tree was desirable, not just good to eat but also good for gaining knowledge of good and evil, she took some fruit and ate it. And now we have someone refusing to take God’s place. That’s God’s role alone.

Here’s an important key to forgiving well: leave judgment to God. One of the toughest things for me is wanting people to get what they deserve. If someone does something wrong, I want that person to face justice and be punished accordingly. You deserve some retribution for how you treated me.

Guys, forgiveness means letting them go and leaving it to God. Forgiveness always comes at a cost. If I were to go into the Freedmans’ house right now and accidentally knock over a lamp, Jonathan could say, “Hey, don’t worry about it, bucko. It’ll just cost $49.99 to replace it.” That’s not forgiveness; that’s justice.

But if he says, “Don’t even think twice about it,” that’s true forgiveness. It’s fine; Jonathan absorbs the cost if he wants a new lamp. He’s buying it. That’s forgiveness.

And, of course, the Lord most clearly and beautifully displays this on the cross, doesn’t He? Forgiveness costs God something. He doesn’t say, “Hey, you want to go into heaven with Me? You’re going to have all your sins forgiven. That’ll cost you forty-nine billion years and ninety-nine million cents’ worth of years. Pay it when you can, and then you can enter into heaven.”

No, He absorbs the cost. He pays the sin debt in our stead. Forgiveness always comes at a cost.

So if we want to forgive well and be ready to face death at the end of our lives, we should ask ourselves, “Man, am I holding on to any bitterness? Am I harboring judgment, or have I truly forgiven people and let go of all the wrongs they committed against me?”

We must be willing to take this desire for judgment, this desire for vindication, and leave it where it rightly belongs: in the hands of God. We must be willing to say, as Joseph said, “Am I in the place of God?” That’ll help you forgive people.

There are at least two other things in this text that will help you forgive people. What else can you see?

The recognition of the sovereignty of God?

Yeah, I think that’s great. Where do you see that, Amber? Which verse?

Verse 20: “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.”

What you think about God will shape how you live. It shapes who you are. It helps you process how you deal with your heartache and hardships. And you’re never going to be able to forgive—not truly, not in the way Joseph did—until you see God as Joseph saw Him.

He doesn’t deny that his brothers committed evil. He doesn’t say, “Come on, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” No, he says, “What you meant for evil—it was evil, what you did. Pure evil. But what you meant for evil, God meant for good.”

Notice he doesn’t say, “What you meant for evil, God somehow turned around and found the silver lining in it all and used it for good.” That’s too low a view of sovereignty for the Bible. God doesn’t make lemonade out of lemons. No, before it even happened, God meant it. He intended it. He is indeed a causal agent, in some sense, in all of this.

God is in control of all things. He doesn’t just know all things; He made the lemons so we could make lemonade out of them, even knowing that some people might use those lemons to squirt someone in the eye.

Yes, God is sovereign over all things, but the Bible teaches us that He is never the author of evil. He’s not to blame. No fault can be found with Him. And if you’re going to forgive as Joseph forgave, friends, you must believe that with all your heart.

Everyone in this room has faced challenges. You’ve experienced hardships. Unless you believe that even the worst things that happened to you were part of God’s plan for good, you’ll never find the mindset and spiritual power needed for true forgiveness—the kind that forgets sin completely. You have to have a big-God theology in order to express it.

Did he tell his brothers that so they could forgive themselves too?

Well, I’m not sure about forgiving themselves, but at the very least, he wants them to understand that God is gracious and kind and merciful and has intended all of this from the beginning. He says, “So that many may be kept alive.”

Who are some of those who are kept alive? The brothers themselves. Isn’t that wild? They threw their brother into a pit and sold him into slavery, lying to their father for twenty years while he cried himself to sleep, believing his beloved son was dead. And Joseph says, “Yes, God intended all of your wickedness to save you.”

That’s wild. That’s beautiful. The love of God.

If you believe those things, if you can understand God to be a big, sovereign God, it will shape how you process your hardships, your heartaches, and your disappointments in life.

I’d better keep moving. Joseph is a man of love and forgiveness, but he’s also a man of sacrifice. This empowers him to give through his sacrificial heart. This one might be a bit more obscure in the passage. How do you perceive Joseph’s sacrificial heart here?

He says, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you and your little ones. I’ll provide for you.”

Certainly. But within the context where I’m drawing this idea of sacrifice, he’s not merely going to provide for them. Joseph sees his whole life. He’s reflecting on his life, on all the junk he has endured. And this is why, in his mind’s eye, he endured it.

Why did he go through all that? What does he say? Again, verse 20: to save many people. All of those things happened so that others could be saved. He went through these hardships so that others could be saved.

That is a life of sacrifice. He views his entire life through this others-minded lens. Everything he has gone through, every experience, boils down to saving many people—including his wicked brothers, who threw him into a pit. That’s a heart of sacrifice.

My question for you is: Do you view your life in the same way? You’ve likely faced some tough times. So why do you think God led you through those experiences? Just because He’s mean?

Maybe what God is doing through those hard things is placing you in situations, roles, and relationships so that others can see how they too could find salvation. You are to be someone’s Joseph. They’ll come to you to learn how they can live. They’ll perish if they don’t.

You ended up in a hospital or a grief-support group. You ended up at this job, in this state, or in this place so that you would meet these people and could tell them about this Jesus who can save them to the uttermost.

Hardship, if we’re not careful, can make us very bitter. You can look back on the hard things you’ve endured in life, and they can calcify your heart. Kind of like we were talking about earlier, it makes you want to unfollow and block everyone in your life. Cut yourself off from the heartache. It’s just not worth it.

I think there may even be an echo of that in how Jacob ended his life when he spoke with Pharaoh back in chapter 47, recounting his life. Do you remember what he said to Pharaoh? “Few and evil have been the days of my life. I’ve lived for one hundred thirty years, but they’ve been few and evil.”

You might say, “Well, that’s because Jacob went through a lot of hard things.” I get it. I understand. But as if Joseph didn’t go through hard things too?

Everyone goes through hard things, beloved. Everyone has hardships. And how you process your hardships, how you think about them, will shape who you are in the final chapter of your life.

Again, we’re talking about being prepared to die. You might find yourself on your deathbed, a bitter and sad old man or woman. Or you might find yourself soft, reflecting on your life with the thought, “Hey, everything I endured, God used for good. He gave me a purpose in life so that others might be saved through the hardships He placed in front of me.”

That’s Joseph’s sacrificial heart.

But finally, he dies in faith. This is kind of a cool thing in the text. How does he die in faith? In what way does he express his faith?

He delivers this little prophecy about God looking after them and leading them back to their homeland, asserting, “You’ll certainly return there. When you do, take my bones there.” That was four hundred years out, but he had faith that it would happen.

That’s pretty incredible. So Josh is saying that Joseph prophesies the Exodus: they’re going to remain in Egypt, and one day they’re going to come out. And he says, “When you do, take me with you.”

So he prophesies the coming of the Exodus, which is certainly an expression of faith. In fact, Hebrews, when looking back on Joseph’s life in that great chapter about those who died in faith, recounts exactly that from Joseph’s life: by faith, he predicted the Exodus. He said, “Bring my bones with you when you come.”

Actually, before we move on from the Exodus, let me say that this whole story kind of foreshadows and prefigures the Exodus, doesn’t it? Just think about what we read.

Back in verse 2, who gets put into a box? Israel. I think that’s intentional from the author. Israel is dead in Egypt; they need to be resurrected and taken into the land. So Israel is in a box, and it’s actually death that prompts their leaving Egypt.

Just like in the Exodus—do you remember what finally signaled them to leave Egypt? It was during the tenth plague, the death of all the firstborn, that all the Egyptians took action. Do you remember what the text said? They all cried out, “For there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where someone was not dead.”

So all the Egyptians were weeping and mourning, and then they left Egypt. In Exodus, did the Hebrews go alone? Actually, some Egyptians joined them. As we study through Exodus, we’ll find that Egyptians accompanied them in the wilderness and entered the land with them.

So it was a huge caravan of people, with all the tribes of Israel present. And guess which route they took? The same route they took in Genesis 50, ending at the same location, just east of the Jordan River—east of Eden and east of the land.

This sets the stage for what’s coming in the next book. It’s a depiction of the Exodus.

So Joseph, speaking by faith, foresees the Exodus and says, “When you leave, take my bones with you to the Promised Land.”

Here’s a question, though: Why are people so fixated on being laid to rest in the land? Jacob expressed a similar sentiment. What’s the deal with the cave of Machpelah? Joseph was fine with being embalmed, so why is he so fixated on being buried there? What do you guys think?

This is the land of his family, the land of his fathers.

Let’s consider all those who’ve been laid to rest here. Most recently, it’s been Jacob, quite obviously. But then there’s Jacob’s wife Leah. Also Rebekah, Isaac, Abraham, and Sarah.

But Rachel isn’t there, and that was Jacob’s beloved wife, the one he loved most. Why didn’t Jacob want to be buried with Rachel? And Joseph had clearly made a life for himself in Egypt. He had a wife and kids. So why not be buried in Egypt with his family? Why are they so fixated on being laid to rest in that ground? It’s quite peculiar.

Hopefully, I can help you see it. The first person to be buried in this place was who? Do you remember? Sarah. She was buried there in chapter 23 of Genesis.

Now, if you go back and read that chapter again, there’s a little tidbit about Sarah dying, but then the rest of the chapter is about Abraham going back and forth with Ephron the Hittite, negotiating for this little field with a cave. He insisted on paying the full price for the land, so Abraham essentially anchored himself there.

This is actually theirs. It’s a precursor to the Israelites one day owning all the land.

Why was it so important to Abraham that Sarah be buried there? Why was that essential to him? I believe it has a lot to do with the chapter that came right before it. If burying Sarah is in chapter 23, do you remember what came in chapter 22? It was the sacrifice of Isaac.

Abraham had been promised land, offspring, and a blessing. Throughout the story, we see that these promises are tied to this son who will crush the serpent’s head and bring mankind back to the garden. Abraham believed this son was the key to all these blessings.

So when God asked him to sacrifice Isaac, Abraham believed that even if Isaac had to die, God would raise him from the dead. He raised him from the dead. Isaac was as good as dead, and in the final moment, God stepped in and supplied a lamb in his place. Isaac was resurrected, brought back from death.

Abraham thought, “God has made these promises to me. He raised my boy from the dead, brought him back to life. Perhaps He’ll do the same for Sarah—raise her too—and, while He’s at it, why not me also? I’m going to make sure my bones are in this land so that when God’s promises come to fruition here, I’ll rise with it.”

And every one of us who dies believing those promises trusts that God will reverse the curse. Remember, the curse meant, “In the day you eat from the tree of knowledge, you shall surely die.” One day, that will no longer be a threat. It will be but a distant, sad memory over which God has fully and finally triumphed.

God shall resurrect His people. He will live with them in that land forevermore. We saw in the promise of Judah that there’s going to be a King who reigns forever.

I think Joseph, believing as his father and ancestors did, believes not only in the Israelites’ Exodus but also in entering a good land with a King given by God leading them, where God will dwell forever, raising all to life.

Jacob has planned his death around this faith, believing he’ll be resurrected. So my question for you is: Have you done the same? Are you persuaded that one day you’re going to be resurrected from the dead and dwell with God forever? And has that thought, that relief, shaped how you live now?

How do you spend your time? How do you spend your money? What life choices do you make? What big decisions do you make? Even when it comes to forgiving people, do you believe that you’ll dwell with God forever, and have you prepared for it?

Because, friends, one day something is going to happen. Some sickness, some diagnosis, some accident—something is going to happen. It’s not going to be kidney stones. If the Lord tarries, every single person in this room will eventually die.

And you don’t want to reach the end of your life and look back, saying, “My days have been few and evil.” You don’t want to die with a bitter heart, full of unforgiveness and hurt.

Instead, you want to die trusting that what others meant for harm, God used for good, knowing that through those difficult times, He saved many people. He kept many people alive.

And you want to die as a sojourner. You want your bags packed, your heart happy, ready to go home with this attitude: “Finally, at long last, we shall cross the Jordan and enter into that good land where God will dwell with me and my brothers and sisters forever.”

Let’s pray.

Lord in heaven, thank You for this sweet, precious book and for Joseph showing us a better man, Jesus. Thank You for forgiving us, allowing us to forgive those who’ve trespassed against us. Help us not cling to the keys of judgment. Those are Yours to wield alone.

Help us understand our hardships and heartaches as part of Your plan, Lord. Help us see our lives with purpose, using all our experiences to save many people.

Father, help us set our faces like flint toward our final home. We’re just passing through, God. We’ll be with You in just one day. Lord, when we look back from eternity upon eternity spent with You in heaven, this life will seem like but a blink.

Help us not to live as if today is forever, Lord. Help us live in light of eternity, knowing that one day we’ll be resurrected and dwell with You in a good land, where You’ll reign as our King forever.

Bless us, Lord, as we strive to be faithful during this in-between time.