You are my victory song.
You are my firstborn, my redemption, my prize.
Joseph, son,
"May He add",
you are my worth.
You are the proof of my unbroken womb.
You are born of fighters and schemers.
Born of Abraham, father of Ishmael,
Deceiver of Egypt,
Receiver of the Covenant
God's chosen man.
Born of Isaac, who favored Esau.
He loved the first, blessed the last.
Born of Israel,
Born of Jacob,
Born of stolen places,
Born of schemes,
Born of love
Seven years of labor.
Seven years of deception.
Bitterness runs deep in your veins.
Trust is not a language known in this house.
You have inherited the struggle.
Your father grasped Esau's heel, so shall your brothers grasp your hem,
kneel at your feet, and beg for mercy.
Give it to them.
End the struggles that run in your blood.
It is too late for me.
The cost of my life is my desperation, my struggle, my bitterness, my competition.
The price of a few idols is paid with my blood.
May Jacob remember Ben-Oni.
May he remember how his right hand was less-than.
Loved first, blessed last.
Remember Leah.
Remember switched identities, sons, mandrakes, serving girls, broken daughters and dark places where bitter roots grow.
You will walk ahead.
You will lead the household.
You are the voice in the desert and the dreamer of dreams.
When you watch your father limp, remember the cost of struggling with God.
When the land swallows my bones, remember to love your wife.
When Israel crosses his arms above your sons, remember that the last shall be first.
When Pharaoh puts fine clothes on you, remember the cloak I labored over.
When you hold your children, remember the cost of favoritism.
When you meet Edom, remember that reconciliation is never too late.
When you look up from the bottom of that well,
when you see out of your master's window,
when you peer through the bars in your cell,
remember the stars.
Remember the God that hung them there.
Remember how they bowed before you.
