Women in white raiment

by John Lemley

Jochebed held the boy hard against her heart when she found she could no longer hide him, and said, more to herself and God than to any human helper, “My baby shall not die.” The resolution once formed in the mother’s heart, the next task was to carry it into effect. Then came the gathering of the papyrus leaves, the getting of the bitumen, the building of the little ark, and the finding of the best place for it among the flags of the Nile.

At length the little craft, with many a scalding tear mingled with the bitumen, was found waterworthy. Then, with many a prayer and heartache, and no small faith in the righteousness of her act, the dear child of promise, with many a passionate kiss, such as mothers only can give, was laid asleep in as soft a nest as the loving hands of mother could devise. Then the little craft, baby and all, was carried to the great river of Egypt, “and she laid it in the flags by the river’s brink.” Quickly the mother walked away, though her heart was crushed and bleeding, for how could she look upon her child if any disaster should overtake his small boat on the bosom of the mighty Nile? But her faith in God was sure. Her good sense had done its best. Her courage made her equal to facing the anger of the king; and she would leave the care of her little darling to the God of her fathers.

But the mother-love could not wholly abandon the little craft to its fate, without at least knowing how it fared with the child. So, back a little from the river, where the tall flags formed a gracious shade over the little brother, and her body concealed in the rank grass, the large, bright eyes of Miriam were fixed on the babe’s hiding-place, and the swift feet of the sister were ready to run to tell the mother whatever might happen.

Pretty soon the watchful eyes of Miriam saw a royal retinue issue from the palace gate, and as it drew near the river’s brink she discerned that it was Thonoris, the daughter of Pharaoh, and her maidens, come down to the Nile to bathe in the open stream, as was the custom of ancient Egyptians. As the princess and her maidens walked along the river’s side, she saw the little ark among the flags, and sent one of the maids to fetch it. And when she saw the child she had compassion on it, and said, “This is one of the Hebrew’s children.” But the eyes of Miriam, the faithful sister, closely watched the scene, and when the little ark was safely drawn to shore by the maids of Thonoris, she ran up to the Egyptian princess and said, “Shall I go and call to thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the child for thee? And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, Go. And the maid went and called the child’s mother.”

MOSES RESCUED FROM THE NILE.

The compassion of the princess towards the beautiful child led her to adopt him; and when she did so, making him, therefore, prospectively an Egyptian, she did not need, we may well believe, to educate him secretly. The taking of the child into the royal household, doubtless rendered the cruel edict less severe, if not wholly inoperative.

All this reads like a fairy tale, but there is no end of the wonders wrought by our God on behalf of those who trust His love and power.

“And the child grew.” Of course it would under the watchful care of such a nurse. One can easily see how during those years in which Jochebed was nursing her boy as the adopted son of the Egyptian princess, she made the most of her opportunity. In a tongue not understood in the palace she taught the child of Him who should redeem the race. She held him loyal to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Her instruction had been careful, thorough, and direct from her father, Levi, the son of Jacob; and she was true to her faith from her very heart’s core. So that, with the very life of his mother, the growing boy had drank in the Hebrew spirit.

At first it must have been a surprise to the young heir to the Egyptian throne when his Hebrew nurse unfolded to him the secret of his descent. That while legally and formally he was the son of the Princess Thonoris, inwardly he was the son of another mother, and belonged to another race, not of the dominant, but of the servile, race; not a worldly, but a spiritual prince. Probably he had the usual struggle with self. It was no easy matter to lay aside the flattering prospect of one day sitting on the throne of Egypt, to forever renounce the glory and glitter of an earthly court, and to identify himself with the slave people whose lives were made bitter in all manner of service. Surely, Jochebed must not only have been a loving mother, but a wise spiritual teacher to thus gain the surrender of all that was dear to her child of the earthly life, that he might gain the heavenly. He must have been completely regenerated when he refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, but chose to suffer affliction with the people of God. Only a personal knowledge of the Redeemer could have brought him to esteem the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt.