Rollin’ On A River
One of the oldest adoption accounts in the Bible is filled with intrigue. It involved the story of a cranky despot who was being overrun, not by low-wage immigrants, but by no-wage immigrants. Let’s pick up the story: The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, whose names were Shiphrah and Puah,“When you are helping the Hebrew women during childbirth on the delivery stool, if you see that the baby is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, let her live.” The midwives, however, feared God and did not do what the king of Egypt had told them to do; they let the boys live. Then the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and asked them, “Why have you done this? Why have you let the boys live?” The midwives answered Pharaoh, “Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.” So God was kind to the midwives and the people increased and became even more numerous. And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families of their own. Then Pharaoh gave this order to all his people: “Every Hebrew boy that is born you must throw into the Nile, but let every girl live.” ~Exodus 1:15-22
This was the rough Egyptian equivalent of China’s present day one-child policy but with a malevolent twist – all the Hebrew lads were to be murdered upon arrival. A few of the midwives who listened to their God-nudged sentiments saved the day. The profession of midwifery was about bringing life to the world, not death. They lied their way out of it. Yes, that is a theological conundrum, but the Scriptures are astonishingly honest about such details.
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After awhile the boy babies began to pile up. With Pharaoh’s soldiers roaming about with a bloodlust in their eyes the Hebrew moms had to be creative: Now a man of the tribe of Levi married a Levite woman, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son. When she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him for three months. But when she could hide him no longer, she got a papyrus basketfor him and coated it with tar and pitch. Then she placed the child in it and put it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile. His sister stood at a distance to see what would happen to him. ~Exodus 2: 1-4
Imagine for a moment you’re the mom in that scenario. You’ve just come up with a short-range plan. It’s not even that great of a short-range plan. How long can you keep your precious newborn afloat in a basket? Besides the sun and insects and the fear of the baby tipping over and drowning, the river is a very public place. Babies cry. Babies in fact, scream. Someone will hear it. Someone will notice the child. Babies need attention. And, babies need a home. And for this baby, whose name was Moses, adoption would be the key to both his survival and his destiny. His mom was hoping against hope that someone would see her child and show kindness.
It’s just like that for you and me. We are afloat in a monstrously big universe. And, we are drifting about in a prodigiously big world, and state, and county and city. We need help. We need someone to see us in our predicament and have mercy upon us. We need to be scooped up from danger, to be loved and to be given a home. And that is exactly what we’ll see happen to Moses. He would go from an impoverished, at risk slave and become a child of the king. It’s a great story. I can’t wait to tell it.
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