If You Know You Know.

Sometimes I think to myself, “Later on this is gonna be hammered out into a story.” That kind of prognostication doesn’t always happen in the moment as something is happening, but it does happen. 

The thought began with an advertisement of sorts a month or so prior to the actual event, but the beginning of the story goes back a ways and began with an advertisement as well.

The Story

I was younger and it was still the era of the radio. I would listen to the radio as I prepared for my day. Many times a commercial would air, it was for a fine jewelry store. The proprietor was named Rhoda and she owned and operated Levy’s Fine Jewelry. I had never stepped foot in Levy’s, but I knew Rhoda. Well, I didn’t actually know Rhoda, but I knew her voice. I would recognize it the moment she started giving out free advice to hopeless romantics seeking her help to win another’s love. “Desperate in Dora” might write in to Rhoda, and Rhoda would reply with something along the lives of,  “Come on down to Levy’s Fine Jewelry, and we’ll help you pick out the right big diamond for your gal and before you know it she’ll be covering your face with kisses.”  Rhoda was always more than generous during her Christmas time advice sessions.

I read last summer that Rhoda had passed away, I didn’t know her personally, obviously, but I knew I wouldn’t be hearing her on the radio any more. I honestly hadn’t thought much more of Rhoda until I ran across that add for an Estate Sale. It was Rhoda’s house and her collections of fine art and furnishings were up for sale. I am voyeuristic in nature so I clicked through those pictures with intrigue and curiosity. Rhoda had some very fine art and furnishings up for grabs but I knew just by looking at them they were way out of my league. I’d watched enough Antiques Roadshow to know that Hudson River School Art painting she had was worth more than what I had budgeted for just such an occasion. I also knew that apart from a museum I’d likely never see that much art in one place in my lifetime again. I also knew Rhoda was Jewish and she may potentially have something I’d been wanting, something that was within my budget. So I made a plan. I invited my sister and mama, who both declined the invitation to accompany me, but my husband agreed to go and we set out with a plan. 

We, along with what seemed like a thousand of our closest friends with a common goal in mind piled into Rhoda’s home. My mouth hung open most of the time and I distinctly remember three things that stood out to me.

1. Rhoda’s boudoir. She had a wall of closets. he first one I entered had drawers upon drawers and shelves on top of shelves. A large number of ten drawers had locks on them and I pointed them out to my husband. Locked drawers in a bedroom closet, I was puzzled only briefly, and then I conjectured they must’ve been for securing all that Levy’s fine jewelry she had.

2. A woman who stood at the foot of  Rhoda’s bed trying on Rhoda’s clothes. Modesty and meekness did not seem to fit this lady’s M.O. I was still processing the dressing lady when Number Three crossed my path, or I it rather.

3. Rhoda’s bathtub. About the time I said “Whoa!” and had not yet even begun to calculate what a tub like that might do to a monthly water bill. My husband who does not share my same line of sight said, “Hey you want Rhoda’s sunglasses?”

For a mere $5 I purchased Rhoda’s former UV eye protection. A quick internet search after I got home revealed to me I’d purchased Designer Sunglasses. I should’ve expected nothing less from Rhoda whose head was a wee bit smaller than my own. 

I don’t rightly know what my expectations were for that Estate Sale, nor the story it would yield but I know this: in my wildest dreams I couldn’t have bargained for what I got.

I left Rhoda’s with what I had come for, a Seder plate (and not just one but three), a pair of sunglasses, fodder for storytelling, and memories that won’t soon fade.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later the Rhoda’s House adventure came full circle and taught me a spiritual application as well.

I was working and a coworker was looking at a house for sale. She has looked at dozens of houses, she too has learned about my curious and voyeuristic tendencies and gets my attention when something is particularly interesting, tacky, or just plain weird.

I heard her make a comment about the closet of a particular house. I  looked and recognized immediately what I was looking at, the MLS listing was a place all too familiar to me,

“That’s Rhoda’s house,” I said to my coworker. She knew about my trip to Rhoda’s. I pointed at the drawers with the locks.

“Really? How do you know?”

“And you’re about to see a bathroom with a big giant blue tub that all five of us could fit in,” was my reply.

I motioned to those of us working together and sure enough a couple of mouse clicks later and there it was. The tub.

Because my time at Rhoda’s had been the adventure it had been, I was able to recognize it weeks later, completely empty, on a computer screen. I’ve since termed that sort of recognition as “A Rhoda’s House Experience.”

The Lesson

As I study the Word I want to be able to recognize Jesus anywhere and everywhere in scripture. I want to know Him so well. I want to know the distinct character of God so solidly that I am able to discern him immediately as I study. I am not a biblical scholar by any means, but I can know Him well enough that by the Holy Spirit’s revelation I can recognize Him immediately from Genesis to Revelation. I can seem Him in the Jewish Passover, the Israelite Exodus, I can see Jesus in the Manna in the Wilderness. I can know undoubtedly that Jesus is the Messiah from Isaiah’s depiction of Him. I can understand His character in the dry bones made to live again in Ezekiel, and I can be reminded again that He is trustworthy and true all the way through Scripture.

Jesus said to him, “Have I been so long with you, and yet you have not come to know Me?” John 14:9

I found myself looking for answers recently…honestly, looking for more of an end to a situation. The moment the situation arose I didn’t…and still don’t…know what to do or how to handle it. My prayers went something like “God, take care of this” and “God, I need you” and then “God, I’m begging you.” Have you ever been there? I quickly went from please to begging in a few short breaths.

The situation is still there and I’m still praying but a few days after my prayer of begging I was driving and I noticed how beautiful the sky was. It looked almost animated like something out of a cartoon. The clouds were so fluffy I felt like I could reach out and grab them. The sky was a blue that cannot be replicated because it was a blue that was created by The Creator. I found myself chuckling…almost joyous over the view that I had. And then it hit me…he’s the God of the joy too!

So many times I am searching for God and begging for him in the heartache…in the loneliness…in the unknown. But, rarely, if ever, do I search for him in the joy. The laughter of my grandchild, the excitement of a new possibility, the provision of the day to day. I seem to lose that he is everywhere and in everything!

So, today, as I’m doing the mundane tasks of my job, as I’m driving to and from this place and that, as I’m looking at nature and soaking it all in, I choose to find God in the joy of it all. He’s the God of the brokenhearted, but he’s also the God of the joyful! He’s the God of the lost and he’s the God of the found! He’s the God in the valley and he’s the God on the mountain! He’s the I AM!

There’s been a drought in the land.

Not literally obviously it has rained record amounts in the last few months. 

And it was raining again. 

The drought had been of a different type and as it happens with droughts the metaphorical land has been dry and left wanting. There is weariness and there are times that my parched soul feels like more than a drop of water at a time may threaten to drown me. 

In the days of late I have done what it is praying people do in times of drought, I have prayed for rain.

That morning as I sat, head in hands praying and asking God to end the drought. I told Him what He already knew, that I was indeed at risk to drown if He didn’t give me more than just a drop to drink at a time, but I knew any thirstier and I would most assuredly die of dehydration. 

Tears threatened to shove their way through my shut eyes and I recalled the droughts of before, ones that have sealed their place in my memory. One in 2016 and one in 2000. They were literal droughts and the two different occurrences have been embedded into my long term memory. I was forcing myself to remember droughts do not last forever, I was straining to hear the voice of the King. 

 I squeezed my eyes tighter, I would not cry, I halfway joked with the Creator of the universe, not that kind of water, I need, I want a pouring out of sorts. 

“Will you help me?” may have been my next thought-slash-prayer, but a sound to my left, an all too familiar sound, a bonafide racket jolted my eyes open. 

I knew the noise before I saw the source of it.

An empty water bowl lying on its side, next to it a double dapple doxie dog barked at me. Her name is Macy, we call her May for short. 

She looked at her bowl and looked at me. Her actions spoke to me the words she could not. 

“I am thirsty. My water bowl is empty. You alone can help me.”

My prayer, the one I had just been praying silently, was expressed by my innocent pup.

“Lord, I am thirsty, my bowl is empty, you alone can help me.”  As I stood to set the bowl upright and refill it, she immediately was at my heels, wagging her tail and jumping up. She was grateful I had heard her plea and had not delayed in responding. And in that very moment I heard the King say,

“The rain is on the way.” 

God “who does great things and unsearchable,
    marvelous things without number:
He gives rain on the earth
    and sends waters on the fields;
He sets on high those who are lowly,
    and those who mourn are lifted to safety.” Job 5:9-11

“But Joseph said to them, ‘Do not fear, for am I in the place of God?’ As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today. So do not fear; I will provide for you and your little ones.” Thus he comforted them and spoke kindly to them.” Genesis 50:19-21 ESV

“But Job replied, ‘You talk like a foolish woman. Should we accept only good things from the hand of God and never anything bad?’ So in all this, Job said nothing wrong.” Job 2:10 NLT

The story of Joseph, Jacob’s favored son, is a powerful example of God’s sovereignty on full display. I’ve often reminded myself that I can literally read the entirety of Joseph’s life story in a matter of minutes, or hours. However, he lived it. He lived all of it. Years of trauma. Years of frustration. Years of unfulfilled dreams. When we finally see Joseph come to power in Egypt as Pharoah’s second in command, he’s not a dreaming kid in a colorful coat anymore, and his visions of bowing wheat sheaves have all but faded. It’s really an incredible story. A story only the Master Story Writer could pen.

There’s no denying the hand of God on his life, carrying Joseph through various hills and dark valleys. I think we sugarcoat the difficulties he endured and downplay his demonstration of utmost integrity. We often think it was basically a walk in the park with a couple of unpaved paths perhaps. However, there is no downplaying his summary statement to his brothers, “God did it.”

Uhm…What???

I wonder if Joseph ever told them the whole story, the drama of it all. I wondered if he told his brothers how he earned his place as top-slave in Potiphar’s house. How he resisted the temptation of Potiphar’s skanky wife. How God granted him the insight to interpret the dreams of the cupbearer and the baker. I wonder if his brothers rubbed their heads with mouths open as he told of being brought from prison after two more years to interpret the dreams of Pharaoh himself. It really is an incredible tale. But not necessarily one that I would personally characterize as a “favored” journey, right?

I mean, do you think Joseph was a little hesitant when Potiphar and his wife came asking for food during the famine? Did Potiphar’s wife wink at him when she stood in line? I don’t know. There are so many questions I have… I digress.

Joseph’s acknowledgement of God’s sovereignty is astounding. Saying to his brothers, who sold him — instead of killing him because that would’ve been unreasonable…insert eye roll— “God actually brought me here to save us. It was His plan.” 

Breathtaking. I think there should be a “Selah” after this verse!

I find myself literally speechless.

This moment in history is only rivaled by Job’s response to his severe loss and terrible suffering. Job says, “God gave it to me to begin with, and He can take it away whenever He wants. Praise Him!”

I’m sorry. What??

The realization that Job never receives any explanation in his lifetime is utterly astonishing. At least Joseph sees a full circle, but Job, not a word.

Who are these people who worship a God that does what He wants?

Who is this God who …does what He wants? …and without explanation?

He is the Sovereign Lord, Creator of Heaven and Earth.

He is the King of all kings.

He is worthy of all praise.

He is the Master Story Writer, the Master Composer, the Master Artist.

In the midst of your suffering and turmoil, you can trust Him.

Worship Him.