I am incredibly grateful to Susan Woodward Kelly for the beautiful artwork which graces the cover of this Bible study. I have spent a fair amount of time gazing at the coral silhouette of the woman on the cover. She could be Tamar, me, or any woman. Her contours stand in contrast to the other subdued hues that surround her. Contrast draws the eye and demands attention. This week's passage, Genesis 38, stands in contrast to Genesis 37 & 39. It may seem like an interruption to the story, but it is sovereignly placed there by God through Moses to show us the glory of a Covenant contrast. 

I understand the inclination to skip past this seedy story. Joseph's obedient underdog story seems to be building only to be interrupted by the story of Judah's disobedient and sinful choices, his sons, and Tamar. But in God's narrative, there are no such things as interruptions but rather one continuous story of how the LORD keeps Covenant with ALL His children. These juxtaposed narratives teach us a valuable lesson that God's power and purposes are not contingent upon our consistency. My sinfulness does not limit His sovereignty. We must remember that God is always doing more than we can see. In this Covenant contrast, His sovereignty and providence shine above the grime. Did you catch the contrast of the little scarlet thread at the end of the chapter? The Westminster Shorter Catechism Question 11 reminds us God is providentially preserving and governing ALL His Creatures and ALL their actions. He sees ALL, knows ALL, and is in control of ALL. And that ALL is an ALL, Y'ALL--you and me. This Covenant contrast between God's holiness and our sinfulness usually elicits two responses: shame or comfort. 

Most women I spend time with have an inner narrative they have written for their lives. Some days we even pray for this narrative to unfold rather than praying, "Thy will be done." So, what happens when my life narrative is interrupted? When chatting with friends, I might be tempted in pride to deny it exists or quietly sweep it under the proverbial rug. When shame swallows me up, I might want to erase it entirely from the way I relate my story to others. Now, here is the hard but comforting truth: I am not the author of my story. This story is not about me; it is all about Him. And we can have comfort that as His story is unfolding, "he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 1:6).

Comforted He unconditionally loves all y’all,