Before I read this chapter I thought I knew the story of Moses–I’d seen “Prince of Egypt” more times than I can count. However, when I read this chapter I saw Moses early childhood in a new way–it really made me think about how the Israelites were forced to live one moment at a time. Living in such harsh conditions, and in such oppression, each moment mattered. This came through for me when I read the stories of the mother, Moses, and his sister.

Every moment was precious to Moses’ mother. She gave birth to this beautiful little boy but in order to keep him alive, she was forced to keep him hidden—for 3 months. She must have cherished every moment with the baby knowing that at any time, she could lose him. What did she do when he cried? She probably gave Moses such focused attention. Caring for this little gift must have given her such joy and sorrow at the same time.

When the mother put the baby in the basket and let him go it must have been heart wrenching. I think that she took great care to ensure that the basket was waterproof; she probably took as long as she needed to because each moment the basket was in the water was about survival.

Being put in the river, baby Moses was laid ‘among the reeds along the edge of the Nile.’ The reeds would have provided extra protection for the little baby and probably helped to keep him close to shore. The more I thought about this, I couldn’t help but think that the mother must have felt that every moment that the baby was safe was a gift; while at the same time, might have seemed like an eternity. If it were me, I probably would have agonized over “Did I waterproof it enough? What if this doesn’t work? What if he just drifts along and no one finds him? What more can I do?” But in the end, she had no choice but to let him go.

Then the baby’s sister watched Moses drift in the basket for as long as she could—-again, each moment was precious. She wanted to make sure the baby was okay. Then seeing the Pharaoh’s daughter respond to the ‘helpless cries’ of the baby, Moses’ older sister seized the moment and played a critical role in getting the baby back to his mother, if only to nurse for a little while. This young girl knew that it was important to buy some time for her mom and brother to be together, however short-lived it was.

When I read on through this chapter, I noticed how quickly time went by—-years passed and Moses grew up and became a man. Something occurred to me, though. Even though the time passed quickly in terms of the narrative story, verse 23 reminds us that the time probably didn’t seem to pass quickly for the Israelites that were still under Pharaoh’s oppression. Even after the king died, the Israelites could only look from one moment to the next—-it was a matter of survival. Like at the beginning of the chapter where the princess responded to the helpless cries of the baby in the basket, God heard the cries of the Israelites and remembered his covenant promise—to be the God of the Israelites and their descendants. God was their God—God was aware of their oppression. Time seemed to pass quickly for Moses while the Israelites seemed to survive moment by moment; but as I got to verses 23-25, I was reminded that everything was, and is, in God’s time.

Does your time usually coincide with God’s timing? There have been times when I’ve cried out to God asking for a door to open so that my circumstances would change. I don’t know about you, but it’s not very often that my timing, coincides with God’s timing. As in the past, I continue to be given opportunities to learn endurance…perseverance. The thing is that the more I ‘practice’ endurance (whether enthusiastically or reluctantly) the more I realize that my timing doesn’t hold a candle to God’s timing.

So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be strong in character and ready for anything. ~~ James 1:4, New Living Translation

I guess maybe my ‘when’ isn’t as important as the now that God has given me.

© 2005 ginny rogers

For the past couple of weeks I’ve known that I needed to talk with someone that I know—you know, set the record straight. I’ve wanted to talk to this person and really didn’t know quite how to begin a real conversation. I mean there’s been the quick “hi” and “good-bye” with regularity—but it’s not been real—just polite. We were able to have awesome conversations in the past; and to be honest, I don’t really quite remember where things went wrong. Things just haven’t been ‘right’ for a while now. So what did I do? I decided that it was time to have a real conversation.

My start to the conversation began with acknowledging that things haven’t been right between us lately and admitting that I really didn’t know why. This wasn’t a blame game and I didn’t try to skirt the issue; instead, I tried to understand my own behavior and the context of our friendship—then and now. I admitted that things weren’t the way that I wanted them to be and I was standing there in front of this person hoping that my desire for real reconciliation would be something that we both wanted—and it was. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to talk about all of the things that I didn’t say—or that I should’ve said. And more than that, I’m grateful for the restored friendship. A friendship that was restored because we both had the courage to say what was on our minds in a way that allowed us both to hear each other with compassion.

The thing of it is that the realization to talk openly and honestly came out of this part of the verse, “Confess your sins to each other.” The definition for confess is “to disclose (something damaging or inconvenient to oneself); admit; acknowledge.” Basically, the first part of this verse is about taking responsibility for your behavior or actions and reconciling with one another. I knew I needed to do that. After much time thinking and waiting for the proverbial ‘right time,’ when the ‘right time’ came, I knew that I was the one that needed to open the door.

The interesting thing is that it wasn’t until after our conversation that I realized the wisdom in this verse. While I’ve been keeping this person in prayer, it’s only since we’ve talked, that I can see how my first thoughts are now free to dwell on this person’s specific needs without distractions of anything else. Before, even though I would pray for their needs, my thoughts would be overshadowed by things not being right between us—but not now.

In setting the record straight, I allowed myself to be released from any distractions that might hamper this relationship–this friendship. What came next was the ability to have real prayer and not only healing for the friendship, but also personal healing. The amazing thing is that this alone has resulted in something more wonderful then I could have hoped for.

© 2004 Ginny Rogers