When my daughter was born, my heart was immediately outside of my body. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. I know that all mom’s say that, but I was absolutely right. Soon after, I wished she could just be back inside my womb, convinced that was the safest place for her. Maybe this was the start of my anxiety.

I started to imagine every possible terrible thing that could happen to her. This precious gift that God had graciously given me, without me asking or planning for her, I was petrified that He would take away. I knew I didn’t deserve her, but she was my entire world.

I think every mom can relate on some level. The fear and desire to control all of the outcomes for your baby are overwhelming. Even in the safety of a small mid-western town.

Travel with me, in time and space, to Egypt, roughly 1500 BC. The roads are crowded with exhausted, overworked Israelites. As children weave their way around the legs of tired adults, fear rumbles under the surface. In one sense, the gift of their children bring tremendous delight. In another, they are terrified.

“Children are a blessing from the LORD.” Joschebed smiles and says to her husband, Amram, as she rubs her swollen belly. Together, they hope for another girl. Pharaoh had grown concerned about the rapid population of the Israelites, and afraid that they would take over the land completely, he had begun a population control program. All the female babies were allowed to live, but the midwives were to kill the male babies. Aaron, Joschebed’s oldest child, had been allowed to live, but the thought of killing a child made her sick to her stomach.

When the time came, however, Joschebed gave birth to a little boy. One glance at him and she was smitten. He was beautiful. Joschebed preserved her son’s life as long as she possibly could, but as he got older, it was evident that he would soon be discovered and thrown into the Nile to die. Perhaps out of faith, perhaps from desperation, Joschebed lay her baby in a basket and lay him in the reeds of the Nile. Miriam, the second of Joschebed’s children, watched from a distance to see what would happen to him.

The thought of this scene makes my skin turn cold. Can you imagine this as a mother? I would have returned to my home, threw myself on my bed and sobbed for days. I can’t imagine a thing that would console me.

But Joschebed was a woman of faith. She knew that holding on to her baby would result in his death, so she laid him down in the water. He could have died of exposure. He could have died by an animal attack. He could have drowned. Sweet, innocent, and completely vulnerable. Perhaps she lay him down while he was sleeping. Or perhaps he was cooing and playfully smiling up at his mama’s tear-filled eyes. Nonetheless, she lay him down, for what she thought would be the last time, and rested the basket in the water.

Miriam watched from a distance as Pharaoh’s daughter, the princess, came to the river to bathe. Discovering the baby in the basket, she pulled him out and called him Moses, meaning “to draw out.” Miriam courageously approached the royal party and offered to find a Hebrew wet nurse for him.

In Joschebed’s obedience and faith, her son was returned to her. She nursed him and cared for him, teaching him the ways of the LORD until it was time for her to return her own son to his legal mother, the princess.

Moses’ name was given because he was drawn out of the water, but his life had a greater purpose. Many years later Moses was used by God to free the entire nation of Israel from Egypt. He drew the people out of Egypt just as he was drawn out of the water.

Now that my children are much older, I still desire to control the outcomes of their lives. I want to keep them safe and protect them from emotional and physical harm, even from their own selves! How quickly I forget that they are blessings from the LORD. In fact, neither one of them were planned for or purposefully sought after. Through different circumstances God gifted me with both of them.

If God can orchestrate the details and circumstances (steeped in destructive sin) to bring them both to me, surely He can work out the details for their lives, which are also hindered by the debris of sin. In order to protect my children, though, I need to realize that holding them in my grasp of control is perhaps the most dangerous place for them to be. I have to willingly and carefully lay them down in faith that God will “draw them out” and work his plan to do amazing things through their lives.