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THREE STRIKES BUT NOT OUT

If I could do a Monday survey right here on the radio, and have you dial in your response somehow, it would be very interesting to get your answer to this question: "Are you doing right now, occupationally, what you went to school to learn to do? If you went to college, and got a diploma in some field, are you functioning on this very Monday in that field?"

I certainly don't have a statistic or percentage to toss out to prove the point, but the world is filled with people who went to school to learn A, and are now functioning very successfully doing B instead. Or C or D. Just here on our Voice of Prophecy staff we have two men who were once schoolteachers. One of them now heads up our development department, seeking funding and Christian financial support from donors to keep our radio messages on the air. He's a genius at it. The other one, with a B.A. and M.A., both in the field of mathematics, is now busily writing sermons for these very broadcasts! And by his own admission, he took virtually no writing classes in college. During all those years of higher education, it was a latent, hidden gift.

I bring the point up for this reason. Very often in life, and for Christians too, it's possible to look back at what can only be called detours. You trained to do one thing — maybe for long years in school — and at the end, it simply didn't happen. Now, perhaps you ended up doing Plan B with great effectiveness and skill. But the thought still nags at you: Why did God permit those years to dribble away? What's the purpose of a detour?
In one of our local Christian churches this Spring, the entire sermon curriculum for 13 weeks was on the great Old Testament story of Joseph. And you know, if there was ever a case where a devout follower of God got knocked off the Interstate of life, and onto a side road, the Bible hero Joseph is that man. Many of you listeners, I'm sure, are familiar with this story, but if not, just pull out the nearest Bible and scan quickly through Genesis chapters 37, then 39, then 40. And we find here not one, not two, but three huge, agonizing delays in his journey to success.

In chapter 37, this favored son, the spoiled offspring of Jacob, is grabbed by his brothers. Actually, his resentful half-brothers. They don't like the perks he's already getting, and so they toss him into a nearby pit. But that's only temporary. A bit later they pull him out and sell him as a slave to some traders heading into Egypt. All right, that's Detour #1.
But read ahead to chapter 39. This incredible kid, Joseph, shakes off the dust, wipes away his tears, and makes the best of his situation. In the early part of chapter 39, he's already recovered. He rises through the ranks as a servant in Potiphar's house; before long, he's running the entire household. From a traveler's perspective, he's gotten off that dirt road and back onto the four-lane freeway.

But hold everything. Now an evil seductress named Mrs. Potiphar tempts him with her silk sheets and soft stereo music. And he resists her. Here's verse 9:

"My master has withheld nothing from me except you, because you are his wife. How then could I do such a wicked thing and sin against God?"

But this beat goes on, a relentless siren song. And finally, when he resolutely tells her no again, she grabs his coat and cries "Rape!" And the master of the house has no choice, politically, but to have Joseph thrown into jail. That's Detour #2.

Now, friend, just hit the pause button with me and think about Joseph there in prison. You know, detours aren't so hard when you're finally off them, but while you're out in the boonies, on the dirt road of confusion or prison or divorce, one can really wonder where God is. The evidence is clear in this story — especially as you read to the finish line — that Joseph is a talented, dedicated, faithful young man. And here time is going by! What a blessing he could be on the outside; what a difference he could be making in the world of Egypt if he weren't in a prison cell with a six-digit number on his inmate uniform.
But now chapter 40. Once again, this resilient, faith-filled believer in the God of his fathers doesn't let bad things get him down. So he's in prison. He keeps right on serving, encouraging, progressing. Actually, here's the tail end of chapter 39:

"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."

That's a great testimony, isn't it? True, Joseph was on a detour. The Egyptian Penitentiary was a side road if there ever was one. But notice: "The Lord was with him." Friend, when you and I are tempted to think that God has wandered off the job, that He's not attending to business — specifically our business — remember those five words. "The Lord was with him." And He's still with us too. We'll have some wonderful, modern-day stories as we go along to demonstrate that when we think our detours are terrible news, that we're all alone, that's not the case.

But now on to Detour #3. Because here in chapter 40, Joseph, under God's power, is able to interpret two mysterious dreams: one told by the baker, the other by the butler. And for the butler, it was very good news, indicating his soon release. Just three days later, the parole board, meaning Pharaoh, gave him his old job back. And before he checked out, Joseph got him to promise that as soon as he was back in the palace, he would say a diplomatic word and get Joseph sprung from prison too. But now here's a tough verse 23:

"The chief cupbearer, however, did not remember Joseph; he forgot him."

Just like that. "He forgot him." And Joseph, who has his suitcase packed and his one pair of shoes all shined, waits . . . and waits . . . and waits. He sits in San Quentin by the phone waiting for — get this — two whole additional years.
And do you know something? If you do the math, the Bible says Joseph first got sold into slavery at the age of 17. He finally got out of jail — and the story wraps up later on here in chapter 41 now — at the age of 30. Which means that these three painful detours costs our young hero a full thirteen years of life. And they were the best years! He was a young man, so talented, and 13 prime-time years were just snatched away from him by these three bleak, unforgivable accidents.

A wonderful book came out recently, written by Chuck Swindoll, entitled Joseph: A Man of Integrity and Forgiveness. He had something to forgive, all right! His stupid brothers and that stupid butler and that wicked woman, Mrs. Potiphar. Between them, they cost him the best 13 years of his life. And in Swindoll's book, he points out four categories that the detours of life, the unfairness of what comes along, can fall into. All four happened to Joseph; listen and see if any of them have been your experience too.

Number One: undeserved treatment from family. Has that happened to you? Number Two: unexpected restriction of circumstances. And of course, Joseph had this one squeeze him like a vice. This young man is simply oozing with talent; if they had SATs back then, he'd have scored in the high 1500s. And what's he doing instead? Pushing a broom. He's not a megastar televangelist for the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He's not prime minister of Egypt . . . yet. Right now he's pushing a broom in Potiphar's house. And then in prison. When the butler forgets to help him get out, he's still pushing that broom for two more years. So that's a big detour: unexpected restriction of circumstances. Number Three: untrue accusations. And Number Four: unfair abandonment.
Many of you, I'm sure, have been through something like those last two years in prison Joseph endured. How could his friend have forgotten? Maybe God had forgotten too. It's like you're on that muddy side road, and the patrolman who promised to escort you back to the freeway never even showed up.
Which reminds us of that cry in Psalm 22:

"My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?"

Does that sound familiar? Even Jesus, hanging on the cross, was human enough to quote that anguished cry. Or the cry from Revelation six:

"How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until You judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?"

But friend, let's stay with those five words: "The Lord was with Joseph." Did it seem like it? No. Did it feel like it? No. But the evidence is clear . . . and thank God chapters 37 and 39 and 40 are followed by the great, heaven-ordained triumph of chapter 41.
And it's the same for us, out there in the rain-streaked detour of our own journey. You can't see Him or sense Him, maybe, but God is there with you, waiting for His perfect time to lead you to glory.