Raising Them For Another

“When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, and he became her son.” –Exodus 2:10

“I can’t let my baby go! But I also can’t let him be slaughtered by this wicked Pharaoh.” The thoughts poured through young Jochebed’s mind. She did what any mother in her situation would have been forced to do; she kissed the forehead of her new little bundle of joy, put him in a basket, and hid him by the river. Actually she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She had her little girl, Miriam, do it for her.

That day would have been filled with tears. And likely worry and wonder. What would happen to her little boy? Would he survive? Would she ever see him again? If she did would he forgive her for abandoning him in a river? Surely, he would. The questions like unwelcome visitors kept rolling through her mind.

As these thoughts pierced her heart, Jochebed noticed young Miriam returning home. Was that a smile on her face? “How could this child be smiling?” Jochebed thought to herself. Miriam’s trot turned into a sprint.

“Mama! Mama!”, she catches her breath and tries to contain her smile. “The baby…the baby…he was…he was…!” 

“Yes, Miriam, what is it…?”

“He was picked up by the Pharoah’s daughter…”

Worry comes across Jochebed’s face. Surely, she will turn her baby over to the Pharoah to be slaughtered. “Oh, young naïve Miriam”, her mother thought. She tried to feign excitement to save Miriam’s little heart. Then the excitement she was trying to fake became real.

“Mama, that Egyptian lady wants you to come and nurse the baby. He gets to come back home!”

Jochebed knew now that she could trust the Lord. He had protected her little boy. And he had blessed her mightily—she would now be paid to nurse her own son. And when he grew he would be safe in Pharoah’s own household. This reality answered so many of the questions that haunted her only hours before, but it also brought pain to her heart. One day she would have to give up her child. She had three years…three years…to mother this little boy before he would call someone else “mom”.

My “Three Years”

I know that I took a little liberty with that story, but I don’t think it is a stretch of the imagination to see it playing out in a similar fashion. As I write this my little girl is three. I couldn’t imagine being put in the position of this Hebrew mother. How could I raise her for another?

Then I realize that whether it’s three years or eighteen years, this is what I’m doing. I’m raising my little girl for another. Just as this Hebrew mother had a very small window to mother her little boy, so also do I have a small window to father and disciple this little one.

I imagine that Jochebed crammed every day with discipleship and parenting of her baby. She likely treasured every moment that she got to nurse this little boy. I’m sure that she had her days when she forgot that three years was coming up. His tantrums would have still frustrated her. The questions about his future would still come. But all of it would be focused. It would be marked. Marked by the number three. He’d be given to another.

Some day my little girl will walk down an aisle and she’ll get a new name. She’ll become wife and that will be a more important word than daughter. I pray that I spend my “three years” in earnest. Loving her. Praying for her. Discipling her. And modeling for her what it means to be a man that loves Jesus.

In a couple of days you’ll be reading a statement in our Pray For Your Daughter challenge. My friend Nick, has us pray this, “Oh God, capture her heart” That’s what I’m praying for my little girl every day for the rest of her life.