Moses in the Bulrushes

In the land of Egypt, where the great pyramids touched the sky and the mighty Nile River brought life to the desert, the descendants of Jacob had grown into a vast nation. But what had once been a welcome refuge during the great famine had become a place of bitter slavery and oppression.

The Oppression in Egypt

A new Pharaoh had risen to power, one who did not remember Joseph or the great service he had done for Egypt. This Pharaoh looked upon the growing number of Hebrew people with fear and suspicion.

“Look,” he said to his advisors, “the Israelites have become far too numerous for us. If war breaks out, they might join our enemies and fight against us and then leave the country.”

So Pharaoh put slave masters over the Hebrews to oppress them with forced labor. The Israelites were made to work with ruthless efficiency, building the treasure cities of Pithom and Rameses. They made their lives bitter with harsh labor in brick and mortar and with all kinds of work in the fields.

But the more they were oppressed, the more they multiplied and spread, which filled the Egyptians with dread. In his growing paranoia, Pharaoh issued an even more terrible decree to the Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah.

“When you are helping the Hebrew women during childbirth,” he commanded, “if you see that the baby is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, let her live.”

But the midwives feared God and did not do what the king of Egypt had told them to do. They let the boys live, and when Pharaoh questioned them, they replied wisely, “Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.”

Enraged by their defiance, Pharaoh gave an order to all his people: “Every Hebrew boy that is born you must throw into the Nile, but let every girl live.”

A Baby in Danger

During this time of great terror, in the tribe of Levi, a man named Amram was married to a woman named Jochebed. They already had two children – a daughter named Miriam, who was about twelve years old, and a son named Aaron, who was three. When Jochebed became pregnant again, the family lived in constant fear of what would happen if the baby was a boy.

When the time came for the birth, Jochebed’s labor pains began in the early morning hours. With Miriam helping and the midwives attending, she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. As Jochebed held her newborn son for the first time, tears of both joy and terror filled her eyes.

“He’s perfect,” she whispered, looking down at the baby’s peaceful face. “Oh, my son, how can I protect you in this cruel world?”

The baby was extraordinarily beautiful, and there was something special about him that filled his mother’s heart with both love and an unexplainable hope. For three months, Jochebed managed to hide her son, keeping him quiet and safe in their humble mud-brick house in the Hebrew quarter of the city.

But as the baby grew larger and stronger, his cries became louder and harder to muffle. Jochebed knew that discovery was inevitable – Egyptian patrols regularly searched Hebrew homes for hidden male babies.

“Mama,” young Miriam said one evening as they heard soldiers marching through their neighborhood, “what are we going to do? They’re getting closer to finding him.”

Jochebed looked at her infant son sleeping peacefully in her arms, and suddenly, as if inspired by the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, a plan began to form in her mind.

A Mother’s Desperate Plan

The next morning, Jochebed sent Miriam to gather papyrus reeds from the banks of the Nile. “Find the strongest, most flexible reeds you can,” she instructed. “And bring tar and pitch from your father’s work supplies.”

All day, Jochebed worked with desperate determination, weaving the papyrus reeds into a tight, waterproof basket. She coated it carefully with tar and pitch, making sure every gap was sealed against the river water.

“It’s like a little boat,” Miriam observed, watching her mother work.

“It is a boat,” Jochebed replied, her voice trembling with emotion. “A boat that must carry our most precious cargo to safety.”

As evening approached, Jochebed lined the basket with soft blankets and held her three-month-old son close to her heart. “My precious boy,” she whispered, “I cannot keep you safe any longer. But the God of our fathers can. I’m placing you in His hands.”

She kissed the baby’s forehead tenderly, then placed him gently in the basket. The infant looked up at her with large, trusting eyes, making soft cooing sounds as if he sensed the gravity of the moment.

At the River’s Edge

In the pre-dawn darkness, Jochebed, carrying the basket, and Miriam crept quietly through the Hebrew quarter toward the Nile River. They made their way to a secluded area where tall papyrus plants grew thickly along the riverbank, providing natural hiding places.

“Miriam,” Jochebed said, her voice steady despite her breaking heart, “I want you to hide among the reeds and watch. Stay close enough to see what happens to your brother, but don’t let anyone spot you.”

With trembling hands, Jochebed placed the basket among the tall bulrushes where the water was calm and shallow. The current was gentle here, and the thick reeds would keep the basket from floating away too quickly.

“Lord God of our fathers,” she prayed silently, “I give my son into Your care. If it is Your will, protect him and raise him up to serve Your purposes.”

She kissed her fingertips and touched the edge of the basket one last time, then quickly disappeared into the morning shadows, leaving her heart floating on the waters of the Nile.

Pharaoh’s Daughter Comes to Bathe

As the sun rose higher, painting the Nile’s waters gold and pink, Miriam crouched hidden among the papyrus reeds, watching over her baby brother. The basket floated peacefully, rocking gently with the river’s movement, the baby sleeping soundly inside.

Around mid-morning, Miriam heard voices and the sound of approaching footsteps. Her heart began to pound as she saw a magnificent procession coming down to the river’s edge. It was Pharaoh’s daughter, coming for her daily bath with her attendants.

Princess Thermutis was a beautiful young woman, known throughout Egypt for her kindness and intelligence. She was also known to have a gentle heart and had never married or had children of her own. Today she wore a flowing white linen dress and golden jewelry that caught the sunlight as she moved.

“The water looks especially refreshing today,” the princess said to her servants. “I think I’ll bathe longer than usual.”

As the princess and her attendants walked along the riverbank, one of the young women suddenly pointed toward the reeds. “My lady, look! There’s something floating among the bulrushes!”

The princess stopped and peered into the reeds. “It looks like… a basket! How strange. Why would someone put a basket in the river?”

“Shall I retrieve it, my lady?” asked one of her maidservants.

“Yes, carefully,” the princess replied, her curiosity aroused. “Bring it here.”

The Discovery

The maidservant waded into the shallow water and carefully pulled the basket from among the reeds. As she brought it to shore, they could all hear a soft sound coming from inside.

“My lady,” the servant said with amazement, “there’s something alive in here!”

Princess Thermutis approached the basket with wonder and carefully lifted the lid. Inside, she found the most beautiful baby boy she had ever seen. The infant had been awakened by the movement and was beginning to cry – not the harsh crying of distress, but the soft, pitiful cry of a hungry baby.

“Oh!” the princess gasped, her heart immediately filled with compassion. “It’s a baby! A Hebrew baby!”

She understood immediately what had happened. She knew about her father’s cruel decree, and she realized that some desperate Hebrew mother had set this basket afloat, hoping against hope that her child might somehow survive.

“Look at him,” she said softly, reaching down to touch the baby’s cheek. “He’s so beautiful, so perfect. How could anyone want to harm such a precious child?”

The baby looked up at her with large, bright eyes and stopped crying, as if recognizing that he was safe. The princess felt an immediate, overwhelming love for this child.

“I’m going to keep him,” she announced suddenly. “I’ll adopt him as my own son. He’ll be raised in Pharaoh’s palace, with all the privileges of Egyptian royalty.”

Her servants looked at each other uncertainly. “But my lady,” one ventured, “your father’s decree…”

“I am Pharaoh’s daughter,” the princess replied firmly. “This child is now under my protection. Who would dare question my decision?”

Miriam’s Brave Intervention

From her hiding place among the reeds, Miriam had watched everything unfold. When she heard the princess’s declaration, her heart leaped with joy and relief. But then she realized an important problem – who would nurse the baby? Egyptian royal women did not nurse their own children, and the baby would need Hebrew milk to survive and thrive.

Gathering all her courage, twelve-year-old Miriam stepped out from her hiding place and approached the royal party. The guards immediately moved to protect the princess, but Miriam spoke quickly and respectfully.

“Your Royal Highness,” she said, bowing low, “forgive me for approaching unbidden. I couldn’t help but see that you’ve found a Hebrew baby. Would you like me to find a Hebrew woman to nurse the child for you?”

The princess looked at this brave young girl with interest. There was something about Miriam’s manner that suggested she knew more about this baby than she was saying, but the princess was wise enough not to ask uncomfortable questions.

“Yes,” the princess replied, “that would be very helpful. Find me a Hebrew woman who can nurse this child well. I’ll pay her wages for her service.”

Miriam’s heart nearly burst with joy. “I know just the woman, Your Highness! She’s known for her skill with babies and her gentleness. She lives nearby. Shall I bring her quickly?”

“Yes, go at once,” the princess commanded.

The Reunion

Miriam ran as fast as her legs could carry her back to the Hebrew quarter. She burst into her family’s home, where Jochebed sat grieving and praying for her lost son.

“Mama! Mama!” Miriam cried breathlessly. “Come quickly! Pharaoh’s daughter found him! She wants to keep him! She needs a Hebrew nurse! You can nurse your own son and be paid for it!”

At first Jochebed could barely comprehend what Miriam was saying. Then, as the full miracle of the situation dawned on her, she began to weep with joy and amazement.

“Praise be to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob!” she exclaimed. “He has heard our prayers and worked a miracle!”

Jochebed quickly made herself presentable and hurried with Miriam back to the riverbank, where Pharaoh’s daughter waited with the baby, now wrapped in fine Egyptian linens.

“Are you the woman who can nurse this child?” the princess asked.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Jochebed replied, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I would be honored to care for him.”

“Then take this baby and nurse him for me,” the princess commanded, “and I will pay you wages.”

As the princess placed the baby in Jochebed’s arms, their eyes met briefly, and perhaps the princess understood more than she let on. But she said nothing except, “Take good care of him. When he is old enough to be weaned, bring him to me in the palace. He will be my son.”

The Growing Years

So Jochebed took her own son home and nursed him, this time openly and without fear. The God of Israel had not only saved her child’s life but had arranged for her to be paid to raise him in safety. For several years, she was able to teach him about his Hebrew heritage, about the God of his fathers, and about the promises made to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

“Remember, my son,” she would tell him as he grew, “you are a Hebrew, a descendant of Abraham. Though you will live as an Egyptian prince, never forget that you belong to the people of the covenant. God has great plans for your life.”

When the child was about four years old and fully weaned, the heartbroken but faithful Jochebed brought him to the palace as promised. Pharaoh’s daughter welcomed the boy with joy and legally adopted him as her own son.

“I will call him Moses,” she declared, “because I drew him out of the water.”

And so the baby who had floated helplessly on the Nile River became Prince Moses of Egypt, raised in the very palace of the Pharaoh who had ordered his death, educated in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, yet carrying in his heart the knowledge of his true identity and calling.

The God who had protected him as a helpless infant floating in a basket of reeds would one day use him to lead His people out of slavery and into freedom. But that is another story for another day.

The tiny baby in the bulrushes had been saved for a purpose greater than anyone could imagine – to become the greatest leader and lawgiver in the history of God’s chosen people.