Sold for Silver, Saved by Faith
Betrayal sent him to Egypt, but G-d had a plan.
My hands were still red from carrying sheep wool when I saw the brothers surround Joseph. They weren’t smiling. The kind of smile that means trouble was coming—especially from Simeon. I knew I shouldn’t have come so close, but I’d been working for their family since Passover and was still learning their ways. That day, I learned something I’ll never forget.
Joseph’s brothers never liked how much their father, Jacob, loved him. A beautiful coat, special attention, dreams that made him sound like a ruler—that stuff can twist up a heart with jealousy. And that morning, when Joseph came their way, humming and wearing that coat again, the camp went quiet. Too quiet.
I ducked behind the camel packs, pretending to fix a harness. That’s when I heard it.
“Let’s get rid of him,” Simeon growled.
“What?” I whispered under my breath.
“He’s always dreaming we’ll bow down to him,” another brother snapped. “Let’s throw him in the pit.”
Judah—he was quieter than the others—glanced at the sky before speaking. “Let’s sell him instead. Better than killing him.”
That was the moment Joseph’s fate changed directions.
They yanked off his coat and dragged him to a dry cistern pit—more like a well with no water. He begged. I saw his eyes looking at each of them, one by one. Not with pride. With fear.
They tossed him in.
I didn’t sleep that night. None of us did. Joseph’s coat, now stained with goat’s blood to fool their father, lay there beside the fire. They sat and ate bread like nothing happened, like selling their brother wasn’t worse than any lie they’d ever told.
Eventually, a group of traders came from the east. I remember the smell of spice and dust as they passed through. The brothers pulled Joseph out of the pit and handed him over like a sack of grain. Twenty silver coins—they split it and laughed.
Joseph didn’t speak. But he looked back.
I’ll never forget that look—not afraid anymore. Just… calm. Like he knew something they didn’t.
Years later, after I’d moved to Egypt to work in the stables near the palace, I heard rumors of a Hebrew slave who became a leader. Wise. Kind. Full of strange power and peace. Some said he interpreted dreams. Some said he saved the land from famine. When I finally saw him standing beside Pharaoh, there was no doubt. It was Joseph.
He forgave them, all of them. His brothers who sold him. Even Simeon.
Joseph chose something better than anger. Faith.
Later that night, one of the Egyptian boys asked me how Joseph ended up here. I sat quiet for a moment before saying, “Betrayal sent him. But G-d brought him.”
That day, I learned that hearts full of jealousy can sell a brother—but only G-d can turn those coins into a plan big enough to save a nation.
And maybe more than that... I learned that no pit is deep enough to keep G-d’s dream buried.
Because Joseph wasn’t just rescued.
He became the rescue.
Sold for Silver, Saved by Faith
Betrayal sent him to Egypt, but G-d had a plan.
My hands were still red from carrying sheep wool when I saw the brothers surround Joseph. They weren’t smiling. The kind of smile that means trouble was coming—especially from Simeon. I knew I shouldn’t have come so close, but I’d been working for their family since Passover and was still learning their ways. That day, I learned something I’ll never forget.
Joseph’s brothers never liked how much their father, Jacob, loved him. A beautiful coat, special attention, dreams that made him sound like a ruler—that stuff can twist up a heart with jealousy. And that morning, when Joseph came their way, humming and wearing that coat again, the camp went quiet. Too quiet.
I ducked behind the camel packs, pretending to fix a harness. That’s when I heard it.
“Let’s get rid of him,” Simeon growled.
“What?” I whispered under my breath.
“He’s always dreaming we’ll bow down to him,” another brother snapped. “Let’s throw him in the pit.”
Judah—he was quieter than the others—glanced at the sky before speaking. “Let’s sell him instead. Better than killing him.”
That was the moment Joseph’s fate changed directions.
They yanked off his coat and dragged him to a dry cistern pit—more like a well with no water. He begged. I saw his eyes looking at each of them, one by one. Not with pride. With fear.
They tossed him in.
I didn’t sleep that night. None of us did. Joseph’s coat, now stained with goat’s blood to fool their father, lay there beside the fire. They sat and ate bread like nothing happened, like selling their brother wasn’t worse than any lie they’d ever told.
Eventually, a group of traders came from the east. I remember the smell of spice and dust as they passed through. The brothers pulled Joseph out of the pit and handed him over like a sack of grain. Twenty silver coins—they split it and laughed.
Joseph didn’t speak. But he looked back.
I’ll never forget that look—not afraid anymore. Just… calm. Like he knew something they didn’t.
Years later, after I’d moved to Egypt to work in the stables near the palace, I heard rumors of a Hebrew slave who became a leader. Wise. Kind. Full of strange power and peace. Some said he interpreted dreams. Some said he saved the land from famine. When I finally saw him standing beside Pharaoh, there was no doubt. It was Joseph.
He forgave them, all of them. His brothers who sold him. Even Simeon.
Joseph chose something better than anger. Faith.
Later that night, one of the Egyptian boys asked me how Joseph ended up here. I sat quiet for a moment before saying, “Betrayal sent him. But G-d brought him.”
That day, I learned that hearts full of jealousy can sell a brother—but only G-d can turn those coins into a plan big enough to save a nation.
And maybe more than that... I learned that no pit is deep enough to keep G-d’s dream buried.
Because Joseph wasn’t just rescued.
He became the rescue.
