The young slave girl sat, with babe at breast, pleading in prayer for her people under the hot, Egyptian sun. “If I were a man, I could lead your Israelite people out of this land of bondage. But, alas, I am but a lowly woman.” And as she prayed, her hot tears fell on the face of Moses.
The poem (above) was the opening to a book my mom passed down to me years ago, written in the 1950’s and it is still one of my favorites to this day, although the title and author escape me. So many times we feel we must be the ones to do the big thing, but God has not called us all to be Chiefs. He has, however, called us all to do what we can where we are with what we have. We are to serve the season we are in wholeheartedly. Who knows what may come of it?