Genesis 30:14–24 (ESV)
In the days of wheat harvest Reuben went and found mandrakes in the field, and brought them to his mother Leah. Then Rachel said to Leah, “Please give me some of your son’s mandrakes.” But she said to her, “Is it a small matter that you have taken away my husband? Would you take away my son’s mandrakes also?” Rachel said, “Then he may lie with you tonight in exchange for your son’s mandrakes.” When Jacob came from the field in the evening, Leah went out to meet him and said, “You must come in to me, for I have hired you with my son’s mandrakes.” So he lay with her that night. And God listened to Leah, and she conceived and bore Jacob a fifth son. Leah said, “God has given me my wages because I gave my servant to my husband.” So she called his name Issachar. And Leah conceived again, and she bore Jacob a sixth son. Then Leah said, “God has endowed me with a good endowment; now my husband will honor me, because I have borne him six sons.” So she called his name Zebulun. Afterward she bore a daughter and called her name Dinah.
Then God remembered Rachel, and God listened to her and opened her womb. She conceived and bore a son and said, “God has taken away my reproach.” And she called his name Joseph, saying, “May the Lord add to me another son!”
The rivalry between Rachel and Leah continues here, and it has now taken a strange turn. Mandrakes were thought in the ancient world to help with fertility. When young Reuben found some in the field, Rachel immediately wanted them. For her, these roots represented a possible end to her barrenness. For Leah, they were another bargaining chip in her ongoing struggle to win Jacob’s affection.
The conversation between the sisters is full of resentment. Leah accuses Rachel of taking her husband. Rachel makes a trade: the mandrakes for a night with Jacob. This is a picture of how sin twists relationships. Both women are still looking to human arrangements and earthly means to gain what only God can give. The mandrakes, for all their supposed power, do nothing for Rachel. Instead, God blesses Leah with more children, not because her method was right, but because He is sovereign over life.
Leah interprets the births of Issachar and Zebulun as her wages from God and as a sign that Jacob might finally honor her. Yet we know that children, as precious as they are, could never secure the love she longed for. Her identity was still tied to her husband’s approval rather than God’s unchanging love.
Then the focus shifts. After years of longing, “God remembered Rachel.” This does not mean He had forgotten her; it means He acted toward her in mercy. He listened to her and opened her womb, giving her Joseph. She saw his birth as the removal of her disgrace and immediately expressed her desire for another son. Rachel’s joy was real, yet it shows how easy it is for our hearts to want more, even in moments of blessing.
The fallen condition here is clear: we grasp for control over what God alone can give, and even when He gives, our hearts can still crave more. Contentment is elusive when our hope rests in circumstances.
The hope of the gospel is that Christ Himself is our portion. He is not a gift to be added to our wish list; He is the treasure that satisfies our souls completely. When He is our life, we can receive blessings with gratitude rather than clutching at them in fear. We can trust His timing, even when the waiting is long. And we can rest knowing that He remembers us, not because of anything we have traded or earned, but because His covenant love never fails.
Rachel’s story also points us forward to Joseph, the son who would save his family from famine and preserve the promise of God. Joseph’s life, in turn, points us to Jesus, the greater Savior who rescues His people from a famine far worse—the famine of sin and death. Just as God remembered Rachel, He has remembered us in Christ. He has seen our need and met it with the gift of His Son.
For us today, this passage calls us to examine where we are trading, bargaining, or striving for what only God can give. It invites us to bring our longings honestly before Him, to wait on His perfect wisdom, and to rest in the fact that He remembers us still.
Prayer
Father, You see our longing hearts. You know the things we try to grasp in our own strength and the ways we seek to control what only You can give. Thank You that You remember us in Christ and that Your love never fails. Help us to find our contentment in Him alone. We pray this in His name. Amen.