OPINION: Don’t Let the Country Be Ruined

There’s a verse in Genesis 41 that haunts me:

“Let them gather all the food of these good years that are coming… so that the country may not be ruined.”

Joseph, once sold into slavery and later imprisoned, becomes a top advisor to the Pharaoh Potiphar because of one gift. He could see what was coming. His vision of seven years of abundance followed by seven years of famine wasn’t just a prophecy. It was a call to act.

Joseph didn’t hoard. He organized. He stored. He built systems in every city to preserve the harvest and prepare for what was ahead. The plan wasn’t based on fear. It was rooted in wisdom and compassion. His motivation was simple: to keep the country from ruin.

We need that same foresight today.

Right now, North Carolina is facing a different kind of famine. It’s not through drought or blight. It’s a policy decision. Across the country, elected officials are proposing deep cuts to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), even as grocery prices rise and food banks are stretched thin. These cuts won’t just hurt individuals. They’ll destabilize entire communities, especially in rural counties where SNAP dollars often support local grocers, farmers, and jobs.

In 2024, SNAP fed over 1.6 million people in North Carolina. That’s nearly one in six residents. Most of them are children, seniors, and veterans—from working families. Contrary to tired stereotypes, SNAP recipients are often caregivers, essential workers, or people with disabilities. They’re the same people who hold our communities together, and they’re already struggling.

When lawmakers threaten SNAP in the name of “fiscal responsibility,” they ignore the long-term costs. According to The Commonwealth Fund, a 20% cut to SNAP would cost the U.S. economy $18 billion, eliminate more than 140,000 jobs, and drain $1.8 billion in tax revenue. That’s not savings. That’s sabotage.

Joseph knew something about real stewardship. He knew that leadership meant preparing before the crisis, not blaming people once it hit. His foresight saved lives. His planning held Egypt together. His strategy was not just spiritual. It was smart.

Today’s storehouses aren’t grain bins. They’re programs like SNAP, WIC, school meals, and local food systems. They are how we prepare. How we protect. How we ensure that when hard times come—and they always do—families can still eat, communities can still function, and economies can still grow.

We are at our own Genesis 41 moment. Will we heed the warning signs, or will we forget the abundance and let the country be ruined?

Let’s not wait for another famine to show us what we should have done. Let’s fund the programs that work. Let’s honor the people who need them. And let’s build systems not for profit, but for provision.

Like Joseph, we still have time to act. The question is: will we?