Show Don't Tell: Genesis 48:1-22

In the dim light of an ancient room, echoes of the past swirl around Jacob as he prepares to bless his grandsons, Ephraim and Manasseh. Joseph stands before him, his heart pounding with both pride and a touch of anxiety. These boys, half-Egyptian and innocent to the ways of Canaan, are the future of his family, yet they are also strangers to the land of their heritage. As he brings them forward, the room is thick with expectation.

Jacob, now frail and aged, raises his trembling hands, shrouded in the wisdom of his years—a metaphorical map of his life’s trials and triumphs. He positions the boys, his sights set on Manasseh, the firstborn, standing proudly to his right, and Ephraim, the younger, on his left. Yet, as he lays his hands upon them, something unexpected happens. In a deliberate motion that seems to defy logic, Jacob crosses his hands. His right hand rests on Ephraim’s head, while the left embraces Manasseh.

Joseph, his brow furrowed in confusion and concern, rushes to correct his father. “Not so, my father! This one is the firstborn; put your right hand on his head!” The urgency in his voice hangs in the air, thick with the weight of tradition. But Jacob, though weakened by age, holds firm. “I know, my son, I know. The younger shall be greater,” he replies, with a knowing look that speaks to the deep current of God's purpose flowing through this family.

In that moment, Jacob, a man who once grasped after blessings with cunning and deceit, now bestows them with intention and grace. As he looks into Ephraim’s wide eyes, there’s a palpable tension—a sacred turning of the world's expectations. The blessing flows, rich with the promise of God’s favor, reminding us that in His kingdom, the last shall be first. In that crossing of hands, a legacy of faith is born anew, echoing through generations like the whispers of a loving father.