Tuesday, September 23, 2008
How did you know, Jochebed, that Moses was no ordinary child? How could you see in his infant eyes the man whom God would call to deliver your people from Egypt? How brave you were, fearing God more than Pharaoh, loving your son more day by day, the specter of discovery looming large. Did you lie awake at night and imagine a passerby hearing your tiny son's cries and forcing you to the river to drown him with your own hands? You must have wept as you wove the basket that would carry him away from you, into God's hands and out of your reach. But how generous God was to you! Pharaoh's daughter's heart is pricked by the sight of your baby boy and she pities his hungry cries. Then Miriam, bold and resourceful, watching obediently on the banks as you'd told her, quickly conjures up a plan, knowing you sit anguished, breasts full, heart heavy. How you must have rejoiced when she came for you, when you reached for him with your empty arms, praising God as you brought him back to your breast and carried him home.