Joseph kept his identity hidden, but his memory was sharp. He remembered every insult, every shove, every tear shed in the bottom of that pit. Yet he also remembered the dream… the purpose… the promise God gave him long before the pain. So instead of exposing himself, Joseph watched. He listened. He studied the men who once threw him away. His brothers bowed again, asking for food. Joseph spoke through an interpreter and said, “You are spies. You came to look for weakness in the land.” They panicked. “No, my lord. We are honest men. We are twelve brothers. One is no more… and the youngest stayed home with our father.” That line hit Joseph in the chest. One is no more. They said it like he was a ghost. Alive, but erased. Joseph held his emotion tight. Instead of lashing out, he set the stage for the first test. He locked them up for three days, long enough for fear to make them honest. Then he released them and said, “Leave one brother here with me. Take grain back to your father. But if you want to prove you’re telling the truth… bring the youngest one to me.” Benjamin. The baby. The only other son of Rachel. Joseph needed to see if they would protect him… or sacrifice him like they sacrificed Joseph. The brothers whispered among themselves, thinking he could not understand: “We are being punished. This is because of what we did to Joseph.” Joseph heard every word. He turned away and cried. Not because he wanted revenge… but because the wound was still tender and the love was still there. Before sending them off, Joseph did something unexpected: He filled their bags with grain… and he secretly returned their silver. A test wrapped in mercy. A warning wrapped in grace. A mirror showing them who they were… right before God showed them who Joseph had become. Sometimes elevation isn’t about proving yourself. Sometimes it’s about proving your heart is still soft in the places where people tried to harden it. #StreetPsalmsAndFamilyTrees #LataraSpeaksTruth