MOSES: A TISKET, A TASKET, A BABY IN A BASKET

A TISKET, A TASKET, A BABY IN A BASKET

(Exodus 1:8 - 2:10)

The Israelites lived in Egypt;

For 400 years they’d been there,

Where they came to survive a famine,

While under Joseph’s care.

But Joseph had been forgotten,

And their numbers increased more and more.

The new king feared the Jews;

He knew they could start a war.

The king made slaves of the Israelites;

They made bricks and worked in the fields.

They built two cities and yet even then,

The king expected more yields.

They multiplied all over the land,

Which caused the Egyptians to fear.

As their numbers increased, so did their strength,

And their presence was felt far and near.

Though oppression continued, the Jews increased,

‘Til the Egyptians were filled with dread,

So the king told the Hebrew midwives,

To make sure all males were born dead.

But the midwives feared the Lord,

More than they feared the king,

So they let the male infants live,

Despite what their actions might bring.

Sure enough, the king called them in;

He asked them why no males died.

The midwives told a half-truth;

Others might say they lied.

They told of the strength of the women;

They birthed without delay.

The midwives could not arrive soon enough,

Tho’ they hurried to them right away.

The king issued an edict —

One that was truly vile.

Every time a boy was born,

He was to be thrown in the Nile.

One distraught Jewish woman,

Came up with a boat-like invention.

She covered a basket with tar and pitch.

And put it where it would capture attention.

She knew the routine of the princess,

Who bathed in the River Nile.

So she placed the basket in the reeds,

And her daughter watched all the while.

The baby was crying and crying,

In his floating crib in the water.

A slave girl retrieved the basket,

And gave it to Pharoah’s daughter.

When the baby kept on crying,

His sister stepped out on cue.

She said, “Shall I find a Hebrew woman,

To nurse the baby for you?”

Pharoah’s daughter agreed,

That he should be nursed by another,

So until the baby was weaned,

He was able to stay with his mother.

The mother returned her baby,

So his precious life would be spared.

By selflessly giving him up,

She showed how much she cared.

The princess named him Moses,

And she raised him as her own.

But the boy who survived would one day repay,

His mom for the love she had shown.

Becky Wall

TWO PRECIOUS GEMS

TWO PRECIOUS GEMS

There are but a few Godly women,

Their beauty is in their behavior.

You will know one when you find one;

She exemplifies the Creator.

Her concern is not designer clothes,

She is cloaked in the Designer.

Her beauty within is radiant;

Loveliness comes no finer.

It isn’t her social status,

That sets this woman apart.

It isn’t the makeup applied to her face,

But God’s Word applied to her heart.

An appropriate name for this woman is “Pearl.”

For each gem is one-of-a-kind.

With a spirit that is pure and radiant,

Through life’s trials she has been refined.

Her Divine beauty was lovingly molded,

From the time she was a girl;

For another woman prepared her heart,

This gem is the Mother of Pearl.

Becky Wall

I wrote this poem with my own mother and grandmother in mind.

A MOTHER GIVES LIFE A CHANCE

The following article appeared in the May 8, 1994 issue of the Christian Standard, a national weekly published by Standard Publishing Company.

MOTHER’S DAY is a day our nation has set aside to focus attention on motherhood—one of the least appreciated of all professions, yet one of the most instrumental in shaping the world. This occasion provides a special opportunity for children to honor their mother for sacrifices made on their behalf, and for fathers to turn their attention to the one who bore and nurtured their children.

Unfortunately, abortion has cast a dark shadow on this most honorable profession. Those of us who were born prior to the legalization of abortion may wonder if we would even be alive had abortion been legal when we were conceived. With this thought in mind, I’d like to recount one mother’s story. Her name is Eve.

Eve had just been married a short time when she discovered she was pregnant. They were poor, and so was the timing, but the couple accepted their fate and even looked forward to their firstborn. Although complications occurred with the delivery of their baby girl and Eve nearly died, they were as thrilled with their new creation as if she were God’s first.

Eve’s child was only three months old when she became pregnant again. So, one year and ten days from the birth of their first daughter, they welcomed another.

When her first two girls were only two and three years of age, Eve discovered she was pregnant again, this time with twins. But with help, they built another room and welcomed the twins--more girls--a month earlier than their due date. When she brought them home from the hospital, they were frail, blue, and wrinkly. No one, not even the doctor, gave them much hope. But Eve nurtured and loved them to good health. She now had four girls, ages four and under.

When the twins were two years old, the father’s sister (a single parent) died and left two homeless children, ages five and six. These children were welcomed into the family and the three-room home, and Eve proceeded to raise them as her own. Obviously a move became necessary, so they moved--several times.

Two years later, Eve conceived again. The couple joked that Eve always seemed to get pregnant in between his jobs. But, alas, this was no joke, so they were quite distressed at first. Nevertheless, they accepted the situation and had another girl.

Fifteen months later, with seven little ones already underfoot, Eve once more became pregnant. She was at the end of her rope. They already had so many for which to care. Even though her husband had a steady job, they still couldn’t afford another child. The doctor had warned Eve not to have any more children because of her age and health. Nevertheless, she endured the pregnancy, and this time was blessed with a son and a namesake.

This mother is mine. She had every right by today’s standards to abort any one of her pregnancies, but she rose to each occasion clothed in the virtues of patience, self-sacrifice, and unconditional love. She was blessed with a sense of humor and was armed with a strong faith in God instilled in her by her own mother.

Perhaps by Providence she was given the name Eve, which means the mother of many, the giver of life. For this life I adore her, as do her other children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, not to mention our proud father. Her example is motherhood at its best, worthy of honor.

 
To all the mothers who have endured similar circumstances, I extend my respect and appreciation. Without them, one-third of my friends and peers would be missing, as is the case with each age group since Roe vs. Wade. Mother’s Day might be a good time to ask your mother to recount her own history of pregnancy and childbirth. Then ask her if she is sorry that she was not allowed a “choice.”

--Becky L. Wall

"Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all." Proverbs 31:28-29

CAIN AND ABEL: HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER

HIS BROTHER’S KEEPER

(Genesis 4:1-16)

Adam and Eve had a son;

Cain was their first boy’s name.

They had another called Abel,

And they loved them both the same.

After sin had entered the world,

It was necessary to toil,

So Abel kept the flocks,

And Cain worked the soil.

Both of the boys had learned to tithe,

A portion of their gain.

One day they both gave an offering,

But Satan influenced Cain.

Abel brought the best he had,

From the firstborn of his flock.

Cain brought some of his fruits —

The part he could spare from his stock.

Cain gave his tithe begrudgingly;

Abel gave the best he had.

So his tithe found favor with God,

Which made Cain jealous and mad.

The Lord asked Cain why he was upset,

Though God already knew.

He told Cain that if he’d done right,

His tithe would find favor too.

The Lord continued to lecture Cain.

On how he should have done right.

Cain may have rolled his eyes,

And wished God out of sight.

God said sin would master Cain,

If he didn’t master sin.

And that sin was crouching at the door,

Even then, Cain let sin in.

He asked his younger brother,

To go with him to the field.

Abel gladly went along;

And it was there that he was killed.

The brothers had grown up together;

The family just had each other.

And yet in a jealous rage,

Cain killed his younger brother.

The Lord asked Cain where his brother was;

Cain showed God no respect.

“Am I my brother’s keeper?” he smarted;

His own life would soon be wrecked.

The Lord greatly punished Cain;

For Abel’s blood cried out from the field.

Because the ground had swallowed his blood,

Cain’s crops would no longer yield.

Cain would become an outcast.

He thought that was too much to bear.

And yet when it came to his brother,

He didn’t seem to care.

He feared he would one day be killed,

Though that’s what he did to his brother.

He dreaded separation from God,

And, in fact, would not see his mother.

God listened to all of Cain’s fears,

Then on him He put a mark.

The mark was meant to protect him,

Wherever he should embark.

He settled east of Eden,

In a land that he called Nod.

His punishment was merciful,

But the worst was separation from God.

Becky Wall

ECCLESIASTES 3: IT'S ABOUT TIME

IT’S ABOUT TIME

(Ecclesiastes 3)

There is a time for everything,

A season for every activity.

It’s part of God’s design,

Based on practicality.

There’s a time to be born and a time to die,

A time to plant and uproot.

God’s order of things cannot be changed;

In fact, the point is moot.

A time to kill and a time to be killed,

Not desired, but nonetheless true.

There’s a time to heal from hurts,

Emotional and physical too.

There’s a time to tear down and a time to build,

Or build and later tear down.

It’s an ongoing building cycle,

Within every city and town.

There’s a time to weep and a time to laugh

To mourn and even dance.

Whether we cry or rejoice,

Depends on the circumstance.

There’s a time to scatter stones,

Meaning people or things to spread.

Other times stones are gathered;

When the people by God are led.

There’s a time to embrace and a time to refrain;

It depends on who or what.

There are those who deserve a hug,

But one who tempts does not.

There’s a time to search and a time to give up,

Especially when searching among rubble.

Seeking the lost is an ongoing search,

But don't go looking for trouble.

There’s a time to keep and to throw away,

A time to tear and mend.

Give up what cannot be fixed,

But always keep a friend.

There’s a time to be silent and a time to speak;

And tho’ silence can be like gold,

When salvation is at stake,

It’s time to speak up and be bold.

There’s a time to love and a time to hate;

We should all hate what is evil.

Yet we love what we shouldn’t and shun the good,

And it brings our lives upheaval.

There’s a time for war and a time for peace,

And though the latter we seek,

War is sometimes necessary,

And the bold must protect the weak.

Time goes on as it passes away;

It flies or it seems to stand still.

We try our best to borrow it,

And time we claim to kill.

One day time will surely end;

A new heaven and earth will evolve.

The idea is a mystery,

That in heaven the Lord will solve.

Becky Wall