Her hand trembled as she brushed the last of the dark pitch across the small basket. Is it enough? she wondered surveying her work. How many other baskets had she made over the years, overlain with pitch to hold the water in as she carried it from the river. But this time, there needed to be enough of the dark substance to keep the water out. Thoughts of water filling the basket caused her to drop the brush, the sound of it hitting the dirt floor filled the silence of the room. Covering her face she prayed, Oh, Lord God Jehovah, why why have you brought your people to this time. How Great One, how can you ask this of me?
"Wife," the worried voice of her husband Amram interrupted her thoughts, "you must go now. Soldiers have begun to search this quarter." As he spoke he went to children sleeping in the corner. "Miriam," he whispered, shaking the slim shoulder of his young daughter. Waking, she turned, revealing a small bundle her form had been hiding. Amram gently drew the bundle to him, and paused a moment as if willing time to just stand still. Then without hesitation he stood and quickly placed the tightly bound cloths in the basket. Little eyes, closed for now, revealed a sleeping infant oblivious to the world around him.
"Amram, are you sure? I don't know if I can do this." Jochebed gripped her husbands arm in desperation, hoping some other plan had come to his mind.
"I am sure. We have already decided. Better to give him to God and the river than see his blood on the tip of an Egyptian sword. Now, go swiftly, they will be here soon." Amram closed the basket and firmly drew his wife to the door. Laying his hand on top of hers, he held her gaze steadfast, "We give back unto God what he has given to us. Do not hesitate to do what has been instructed."
Jochebed nodded mutely and looked away searching for words but as she did so a scream rose up in the corridor just beyond their small hovel. A grief stricken scream. The scream of a mother whose infant son was found and murdered. With one last glance at Amram she fled from their home. Making her way in the shadows, she held tightly to the basket, her feet flying stealthily through the night by some miracle. Hearing footsteps she drew herself into a doorway and paused. Small Miriam's face appeared and without a word Jochebed drew the girl to her side and together they moved towards the rivers edge.
Sounds came from all over the quarter now as homes were invaded and searched. Pharaoh's soldiers seeking out any infant male children, murdering them in front of their parents, in an attempt to lessen the growing number of Israelite slaves for fear they might overthrow their captors. Swiftly, as if carried by angels wings, they continued their journey away from what lay behind them. Soon they were rewarded with the sounds of water as it trickled slowly over the rocks and through the reeds, it's peaceful serenity a contrast to the horror just beyond it's shores. Jochebed slowed, her eyes looking keenly for signs of the river creatures hiding just below the waters surface, their yellow eyes the only clue to their presence. They could mean certain death for herself and Miriam as well as destruction to the small basket in her arms. Breathing a sigh of relief at seeing none of the horrible beasts, she found a place close to the waters edge where tall reeds blowing in the wind hid their presence. Unable to resist, she opened the basket, to gaze a final time upon her sleeping baby. Brushing his cheek, she remembered Amrams words, this was God's baby now. Her mothers heart squeezed inside her chest and began to beat madly. How had Father Abraham been able to do it? she questioned, remembering her lineage and the history of her people. Abraham had been called upon by God to sacrifice his only son. Had Sarah, the wife of Abraham known? Jochebed wondered and just as quickly knew that the mother so long ago had also been asked of the Lord if she trusted her husband as well as her God. "Help me to trust in thee, O Lord God of Abraham and Sarah. Just as they trusted in you." Tears mingled with her words, her voice barely a whisper as she spoke. For a moment the wind ceased and peace surrounded the three figures hidden from sight.
"Mama, God says to remember He made a way. Don't you remember the story of Father Abraham? God provided a way with the ram caught in the bushes." Miriams clear bell like voice spoke into her mother's heart. Jochebed looked with surprise at her daughter, had YWYH just spoken to her through the voice of her child? Knowing time ran on to quickly, she placed a kiss on the infant sleeping soundly, thanks to the herbs placed on his tongue. She filled her mind with one last look and closed the lid.
"Make a way God of Abraham." Jochebed prayed one final prayer giving the basket a small push into the current of the river. As the basket began to float away she felt a nudging at her heart. "Follow it Miriam, until you can't see it anymore. You are small, stay hidden. When you can't see it anymore, come home and tell me where you saw it last." Miriam wordlessly left her side, the absence of her presence leaving Jochebed cold.
Has God ever asked you to do something that seemed like more than you could handle?Something you actually fought against Him, like Jonah perhaps running the other way, because you really didn't want to obey His voice. As I study the life of Moses, the initial sacrifice of His mother and father keeps playing over and over in my head. I'm sure there were many families who hid their children in an effort to save their lives from Pharaoh's decree at that time. But hiding them wasn't enough. Were there others who like Jochebed and Amram, instructed of the Lord to give their sons back to Him in a measure of faith. We read of Jochebed because her infant of course grew into the patriarch Moses, but knowing God I don't question He also made a way for many of His Israelite sons. But oh the sacrifice of those mothers and fathers.
I don't doubt that in my walk with Christ I will be called to make sacrifices. In my short thirty-four years I have already had to make many. I have learned how weak I really am in those moments. How powerless I am. We are wired to control, and boy do we try. To control EVERYTHING. And it is this control I realize we have to give up first and foremost. If we can loose ourselves of the control we think we have then all other decisions are so much easier to turn over to God. No matter how big or how small the sacrifice is, when I can realize--God's got this, I can rest knowing His ways are higher than my ways, His thoughts are higher than my thoughts, as stated in the book of Isaiah. Not only that, but His thoughts are not to harm us, ever, even when faced with a challenge we don't think we can bear, the Word says in Jeremiah His thought is to give us peace and hope and a future in Him.
As we read of Jochebed and Amram being called to sacrifice their child's life into the trust of the Lord, as a parent I can't think of too many greater challenges than this. But it is what I am called to do. I have been called for a little while to train up my child in the way he should go, Proverbs 22:6. And then trust in God. What are you being called to trust God with today?Finances, a job, a calling, your time, the health of a loved one. How grateful I am that I can be weak in those moments of uncertainty, for it is in my moment of weakness that He is strongest. (2 Corinthians 12:9) It is the moments of letting go that we are able to truly let Him guide our footsteps.
Today, I pray for more of Him and less of me. For more of his guidance and less of my plans. For His dreams to become mine. Today my oldest son turned thirteen. My challenge this morning has been to truly given him back to God. To know I have trained him, and will continue to do so, but that God will guide him to His will. The same way He guided a little basket down a river, to an expected future that would save His people.
Jochebed, knelt by the fire making the final preparations for the evening meal. She knew today she wouldn't be able to eat, but her husband and son would be home soon needing nourishment after a harsh day of slave labor . She wasn't sure when she would be able to eat again. Pain in her chest reminded her that she would soon have to express some of the mother's milk from her body until it came no more. Sounds of a horse and chariot drew her attention to the doorway.
"Mother," came Miriams excited cry. Jochebed rushed to her daughter, scared she had been captured in the quest she bid her to take that day, but Miriam straightened herself and spoke with a calm past her years. "Mother, you are needed at the palace. The princess says the river gods gave her a baby and they are looking for a wet nurse for the new prince. I told them I knew where to find one." Miriam's eyes twinkled as she flashed a look hidden from everyone else.
"Stay here. See to your father and brother. I will return." Jochebed spoke in a daze, trying to comprehend what her daughter was really saying. Climbing into the chariot, the same soldiers she had feared would take the life of her son now carried her back to him, by royal request. It all happened so quickly. She was taken to the palace, to the rooms of the princess, and there surrounded by a court of royal women lay her infant son. The women chattered away in Egyptian, not even noticing her for some time until one by one they were dismissed leaving her alone with a princess. No one could deny her beauty, standing there in Egyptian linen with no adornment other than a gold circlet around her head, her soft skin glowing against the backdrop of the setting sun. Surprising Jochebed, the princess spoke, in the language of the slaves.
"I am a mother in need of milk, and you are a mother in need of a child. Serve me well and serve this prince well and you will be rewarded." as she spoke she lay the infant in Jochebed's arms. Jochebed looked into the other woman's eyes and their stations in life melted away. Their eyes spoke beyond race, beyond riches, beyond fame. Their eyes spoke a mutual language of love, a mutual language of women. She knows, thought Jochebed. The words would never be spoken aloud, but as Jochebed kneeled before the princess in gratitude she knew the princess knew her to be this child's mother. She also realized the princess was risking her own life in defying her father to save the life of this child. In an instant they were closer than any sister Jochebed ever had. God connected them. God had given a mothers love to the daughter of Pharaoh. Jochebed knew this woman would protect her son. Reaching down, the princess held the baby's hand and said one word, "Moses."
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