"But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation." - Psalm 13:5
One thing I've noticed in watching these movies is how much a movie can change when your perspective changes. I haven't seen "The Prince of Egypt" in what seems like forever. I remember going to see that in theaters when I was probably 8. I remember analyzing every moment of it- and being highly offended if any part wasn't exactly as the Bible stated. (Artistic license was a foreign concept at the time.)
But watching it this time with a fresh pair of eyes (that, by the way, have seen so much more life now) caused me to take a step back and really think. I was struck by the beauty of the animation, the creativity, the character development, and certainly, the music, but I was struck most by the story. I realized how long it's been since I read the Biblical account of the Exodus. What an amazing story! God is so...cool! (Bah. I get so frustrated when I try to describe God in human terms. It doesn't work. The same thing happens when I try to think of Who God is-my puny human brain can't handle it.)
Movies are able to allow me to connect with characters in a way that simply reading stories cannot. Well, maybe I didn't say that exactly right, because books do allow for deep connection with characters.
...
My life is busy. Incredibly busy. Watching a movie is easy, and frequently mindless. Often, I don't have time (or brain-power) to sit and read, much less really digest what I'm reading, especially if it's something outside of homework. I am shamed to say that this applies to my recent Bible-reading habits. I read, but I skip the meditating step and instead go straight a quick blanket prayer as if to punch a pseudo-spiritual time card for the day.
So, I think that yesterday God used "The Prince of Egypt" to remind me that I need to connect to the rich characters in the stories of the Bible.
Enter Jochebed.
Jochebed was Moses' mother, and she's mentioned (though not in name) in Exodus 2. To fill you in, Jochebed gave birth to a baby boy at a bad time- Pharaoh had recently decided on a new method of Hebrew population control. He had issued a decree that all the baby boys must be thrown into the Nile. Pharaoh was brutal. Absolutely brutal. I have no idea how anyone could do that. It is horrifying to me. I cannot imagine what Jochebed went through in the months prior to Moses' birth. How she must have prayed for a girl! I wonder how many of her distraught friends she consoled after their precious baby boys were torn from their arms and flung into the Nile as if they were some menial piece of trash. I cannot imagine the moment that she gave birth and the midwife announced with a grim face that it was a boy. Jochebed decided then and there that she was going to give Moses whatever chance at life she could.
Jochebed hid Moses for three months. She bonded with him for three months. She fell in love with every coo and smile, she cared for every cry, changed every diaper (or whatever the ancient Egyptian form of a diaper was), and watched in wonder as he slept, all the while knowing that her time with him was so limited and his future so uncertain.
She made a basket. I bet that it was probably the world's most painstakingly-made basket. I can imagine there were a few nights she went to bed praying for a reason not to put the basket to use. I can only imagine the long, agonizing, sleepless night before she placed her precious little one in that basket to let him go-how she must have held him that night!
Then came that morning. What did she tell her other kids, Miriam and Aaron? Did she wrap him in the softest blanket they had? What songs did she sing when he cried that morning? Did she cry? I cannot imagine the difficulty with which she walked to the Nile. The Bible said she put him among the reeds. Did she hope that this would provide a little protection from such a huge, unpredictable river?
She hugged her little boy one last time, set him inside the basket, closed the basket, and let go.
She let go.
The Bible says that she had Miriam watch the basket to see what would happen. I wonder if she did that because she had other things to attend to, or if it was really too hard to watch the fate of the tiny, precious basket in the big river. I can only imagine the prayers she was lifting up, the internal struggle she was giving to God, and the agony of an immensely broken heart.
I have to wonder: if put in that situation, what would I do? Jochebed was probably not much older than I am. Do I have that kind of trust in God's plan? There have been times in my life when God has shown me very plainly when I need to trust him. I remember being in high school, and knowing that on my own, I would never find the right college. I trusted that God would direct my paths, and He led me to OC. Granted, college hasn't exactly been easy, but I have met so many amazing people and gained so many new experiences. I remember having to trust God with my future, especially after Zeke was re-diagnosed with cancer. There was so much uncertainty in that time. I am so thankful that God granted me trust and peace unlike anything I have ever known. If I had tried to handle that entire situation on my own, I would have been unbearably overwhelmed. Instead, trusting God with Zeke's cancer was so easy, so natural, so organic, that I didn't even give it a second thought. Ironically, that was a time when trust was easy.
I feel silly admitting that trust is something I struggle with, because in comparison, it seems like life incredibly less complicated now. However, I know that I do not trust God in the way I should. When Zeke was sick, I had childlike trust, which includes optimism. In my mind, trusting God meant trusting that God would make everything Ok. However, reality is that bad things happen in this life. People lose jobs, get divorced, experience depression, feel abandoned, get sick, even pass away. Now, instead of trusting that God will make everything alright in the future, I need to trust that despite the hardship of the past, God is in control.
It's a whole different ball-game.
I am working to trust God to heal my broken heart. I am trying to reach out to those that He has put in my life. I am trusting that once again, He will lead me to the right school for my graduate study. I am trusting that He will care for my loved ones who are so far away from me. I am trusting that He is in control, and that He has a plan.
Because He does.
Just like in Jochebed's case. You see, the story doesn't end with a basket in the reeds. God sent the right currents to the Nile on that morning. That little basket floated safely away right to the arms of the Pharaoh's daughter. Not only did Pharaoh's daughter decide to adopt Moses, but she allowed for Miriam to take Moses back to Jochebed. Imagine the stupor of joy that Jochebed experienced when Miriam excitedly told her that she could be her own son's nurse. Imagine her delight as she raised Moses through his toddlerhood. Although Jochebed eventually had to return Moses to the palace, she had the peace that he would be safe and healthy.
The story doesn't end there, either. That little baby grew up to be a powerful force for God. God used him a deliverer of His people from slavery and through the wilderness to the Promised Land.
Then, centuries later, from the bloodlines of that same group who came out of Egypt, another incredible little baby was born, only this baby was the Deliverer.
And it's in the name of that Deliverer that I trust.
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