Uncle J.

Hi, I’m Gerri. Well, that’s what my friends call me.

I want to tell you a story about my Uncle J. Would you listen to my story? It’s really cool.

My family don’t talk about when Uncle J was young, but I get the feeling he wasn’t liked by my uncles. They always start when Uncle J was in foreign jail. People there didn’t like him, but he was blessed or something. Everything he did, it was as if God blessed it and he did well, even while in jail. They called him a trustee.

I never got to see him do it, but my uncles tell of God blessing him with dream interpretation. It became useful to the king. Uncle J. told a man what his dream meant, and life happened just like Uncle J said it would. The man became the Royal Bodyguard. Then he forgot about Uncle J. (It makes me mad when people forget about my Uncle J.) After two years, the king had a dream. The Bodyguard remembered. The King ordered Uncle J out of prison. Uncle J. cleaned up. He was taken to the King. Uncle J. heard the king’s dream. He told the King what it meant.

The king was so impressed with Uncle J. (and who wouldn’t!). He promoted Uncle J to Vice-King, or whatever you call it. He was second in command of the entire country. Imagine, from the prison to the V.K. in one day. God must have had something to do with it.

Uncle J. began taxing the people very heavily. He required at least 20% of all the grain they grew. And the crops were great. He stored so much grain they closed the accounting department. More was collected than the government could count. Uncle J. did this for seven years. God was using him.

The eighth year Uncle J was in office, things got really bad. No one could grow anything. It was really dry. I don’t know if all the crops failed, but everyone was hungry, Uncle G. said.

Meanwhile, Grandpa Jake, his boys, and their families were about to starve. There was no grass for their herds. It was getting scary, dad said.

Grandpa sent all the boys, except dad, to the foreign country to the south, where Uncle J. lived. They were to buy grain. When they got there, they did not recognize Uncle J. But Uncle J. remembered them. He talked rough to his brothers, and threatened to put this in prison for espionage. They begged and pleaded for mercy.

“I’m going to let you go home. But the next time I see you, you better have your youngest brother (my dad) with you ,” Uncle J. said. All of Grandpa Jake’s boys believed him. They took the grain, loaded up the pickup trucks, and headed home.

They pulled in to a Motel 6. When they checked the loads, they found the money they had spent. It looked like they had stolen the grain, or stolen the money. They got real scared.

The next day they didn’t stop to eat at Waffle House. They just got on the road really early, they said.

When all the boys got home, Grandpa was told every detail. They told him what the V.K. had said about dad. Grandpa got real sad.

Grandpa Jake stretched the grain, but eventually it got very low. So he told the boys to head back south to buy more grain. They reminded Grandpa of what the V.K. had said about dad coming. If dad didn’t go, they could not buy any grain. The discussion was intense. One of dad’s brothers promised Grandpa if anything happened to dad, he would stay. The family was getting desperate for grain, so Grandpa agreed.

Grandpa said to take some of the best products the family had as gifts, all the money they had from the first time, and money for the second purchase.

Dad and the brothers filled up the trucks, filled the thermos with strong coffee, and began a straight-through drive.

When they got there, Uncle J. recognized dad. He ordered his assistant to get a big meal ready. Everyone would eat with him at noon.

My uncles thought they were getting into trouble and began trying to explain about the money to Uncle J.’s assistant. He said, “I remember taking your money. So your God must have given you a treasure,” dad reported.

At lunch, my uncles gave the Vice-King their gifts. When the meal was served, Uncle J. ate alone, dad and my uncles by themselves, and the foreigners by themselves. Dad, laughing, said he got five times more food than his brothers.

Uncle J. had his assistant load the grain. Then he added, “Put my fancy coffee cup in a bag. Make sure it is loaded on the youngest boy’s truck. Make sure!” The assistant did exactly as Uncle J. said.

The next morning, with the trucks already loaded, the truck caravan headed home, with dad in the lead.

Shortly after they left, Uncle J. told his assistant to put out a BOLO for dad’s truck. Soon, Dad and his brothers were stopped. The assistant charged them with stealing the V.K’s special cup. My uncles promised whoever had the cup would die. When the assistant had the local police search dad’s truck, they found the missing cup. Dad got very panicky. He thought he was about to die. But the assistant ordered them to re-load the trucks and head back to the V.K.’s house.

When they got back to Uncle J.’s palace, he told them “What have you done.” he asked, adding, “Can’t you tell I have special powers to know these things?”

No one knew what to say. “How can we show you we are innocent,” they asked Uncle J. “We will all be your unpaid servants,” they said.

“No. But the youngest (my dad) will have to stay here. The rest of you can go,” Uncle J. told them.

This was unthinkable. One of my uncles told the V.K. Grandpa would die if dad stayed.

Uncle J. broke. He ordered the assistants out of the room. Then he told my uncles who he really was. “I am your brother, J.” he said. He cried so loud the people outside heard him. The King heard him, too.

“Is dad alive,” he asked the brothers.

My uncles didn’t know what to say.

“Come here,” Uncle J. said. They did. “I’m J.” he told them, again. “What you did years ago to me was bad. But God was sending me down here for your good,” Uncle J. said. “It is the second year of the famine. There will be five more. Go home, get our dad and everyone else, and move them down here,” he added.

Between Uncle J. and the King, they sent 18-wheelers to Grandpa. They used Mayflower truck lines for all the household stuff, and Fikes flatbeds for all the really bulky stuff. They used 'double-decker' cattle trucks to move all the sheep, goats, donkey’s and camels.

And this is how we got to live in the best place in the foreign land all these years. Uncle J. took care of us all his life.

I really believe God used all the bad things in his life for MY good.

Wasn’t he great?

Hasn’t God been good to all of us?