This morning I read Exodus 2, the story of when Moses was born. The first 10 verses of that chapter impact me so deeply now that I have a baby. Moses was supposed to be killed because Pharoah had issued the order that all Hebrew boys were to be executed when they were born. How evil is that!? Moses’ mom hid him and in order to protect him she put him in a basket and placed him in the reeds by Pharoah’s house. I believe she was hoping someone from the household would find him and he would be safe. Sure enough, Pharoah’s daughter saw him and when she picked him up she fell in love with his little face and wanted to raise him herself. Moses’ mom cleverly sent his sister around to say “Hey, this a Hebrew baby, do you want me to go find a Hebrew woman to nurse him?” The plan worked and Moses was nursed by his own mother. And she was paid to do it!
Can you imagine the joy of being reunited with your own baby to nurse him for several years, and then have to give him back to someone else to raise him? I can cry just thinking about it. What things was she whispering to him during those first years? What did she want him to learn from her before he had to go? What songs did she sing him in those intimate moments? Was she the beginning of his strong faith in God as a grown man?
It made me think about my parents, and in my mind the words of a song started playing. It was a song they used to sing in church. That’s right, my parents used to sing duets together in church on Sundays. They had a few songs they would often sing together, and the words of those songs are deep in my heart. It was like they were opening their own hearts for me to see what was in them. Why do these songs resonate so deeply with me? Why did they shape my own heart? Because I saw my parents live them out. What they said (or sang in this case) was what I witnessed in their daily lives. So I listened.
One of they key lines in a song they used to sing is this:
When you can’t trace His hand . . . trust His heart
Today, that song came out of my heart and into my journal as I was reflecting on Moses’ mom and her faith in God. She didn’t know what the future held for Moses. She wasn’t able to control what would happen to him, or even how he was raised. But she trusted God’s heart.
This is my prayer for my baby. I recognize that I am not in control of how she will live her life. How she will be used by God. Even how long her life will be. I have to raise her with open hands, knowing that I am entrusted with a huge responsibility for this time, to instill in her my own faith in God and then live it out in front of her so she can understand.
Thank you God for the blessing of my little baby. She belongs to you. I know there will be times when I can’t see your hand and when things get really difficult. But I want you to know that I trust your heart. Ella’s life will be safer and more fruitful in your care than she ever would be in just mine.