Who will walk through the Red Sea with you?
I sat next to a lovely woman who was blooming in her second trimester of pregnancy. We saw each other often at church but didn’t often get a chance to talk. As I took a sip of my drink she commented, “you’ve done such a great job parenting your girls. How did you do it?”
I laughed, a little embarrassed, then thanked her and proceeded to ask about her week. This beautiful mother-to-be said, “I’m serious, what are the key parenting things you’ve done?”
I paused and looked toward where one of my teenagers sat playing with a friend’s toddler. Was it wrong that I couldn’t immediately name my methods? So much of parenting has been about surviving whatever season we found ourselves in. Whether it was sleepless nights, potty training, tantrums aged three or thirteen, friendship issues, or health issues … so much of this journey has been about managing the ordinary, not the happy-go-lucky-photos moments that appear in social media feeds.
There’s a story in the Old Testament many of us know well. It’s the pinnacle of God using Moses to lead his people to freedom from slavery. But for me it’s also become an unexpected reflection on parenting.
Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the Lord drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left. Exodus 14: 21-22
The story is about reaching the freedom of the opposite shore. I think about what it would have been like to make that crossing. God dried the seabed, changing the path from wet, sticky mud to a surface the Israelites could easily walk across.
But this journey was no short trip––the sea was 8 miles at its narrowest point and up to 195 miles at its widest. Plus, it descends to about 230 feet to its lowest point, so this wasn’t a short, level path to walk.
As the Israelites took that first step, did their eyes stare at the wall of water either side of them wondering if it was going to crash at some point? Was it noisy? Could they see fish swimming alongside them as they made their way? Was it dark? There’s very little light in the deepest of waters. And let’s not forget they were being chased …
‘The Egyptians pursued them, and all Pharaoh’s horses and chariots and horsemen followed them into the sea.’ Exodus 14:23
Parenthood often reminds me of this journey across the Red Sea. So many decisions are steps of faith to get to an opposite shore, surrounded by an imposing wall of water, and sometimes not knowing how far the other side might be.
Yet one of the biggest miracles for the Israelites was not just God parting the waters and drying a path. It’s that he didn’t leave any behind. He didn’t just take Moses across the Red Sea. He took the entire Israelite population––approximately 600,000 people––from the newborn to the elderly. It’s easy to imagine them whispering encouragement to each other, the words rippling from those up front to the crowds behind.
“The shore’s ahead!”
“There’s a big rock coming up.”
And my favorite, when the neighbor they were walking beside was scared. “It’s going to be alright. You’re going to make it through.” The words reached above the dull roar of the waterwall next to them.
As parents we must seek those who’ve gone before us … the one’s whose kids are five to ten years older than ours. They understand the culture in which you’re bringing your kids up, and often have experienced those things that are difficult to share. And, most importantly, they understand everything we experience as a parent is just a season. And, like God led Moses through the Red Sea, they understand you will reach the shore because they’ve had to walk a similar path to which you now find yourself on.
Yes, you may shed enough tears to fill the Red Sea as you put one foot in front of another. Yes, you may feel weak because it takes all your parenting strength to overcome the uphill walk from the deep. Yet, we all need people to walk by our side through the what-we-don’t-talk-about times … to hold our hands, give us strength, and encourage us––just like Jesus does, just like the Israelites did––as we deal with the hard situations of life to get to the shore of the promised land.
A love letter from God …
Dear lovely one,
You are not alone in this parenting journey. Stop for a moment and look around. I promise I’ve placed people beside you who’ve already walked through this. Don’t be afraid to ask; “Who will walk through the Red Sea with me?”
This journey is not meant to be taken alone. I am with you always. And I send my children to support you as you raise your world changers. Learn from them for many are wise. And one day you’ll share the wisdom you have gained to the next generation.
Never forget I appointed you as parent to your children. Tell me worries and I promise I’ll help you and I’ll walk with you as you seek your way through the Red Sea of parenting.
I see you, my beloved; I love you.
And I am with you always,
Love, God