Josiah was perplexed. And not a little nervous as he wandered along beside the tents pitched around in clusters. What was going on in the camp?
The feverish excitement of the exodus from Egypt had tapered off and, in its stead, there was an air of trepidation among the adults. He tried hard to remember the bits and pieces of conversation he had picked up the other night crouching behind the tent flap. His father and mother were huddled outside, whispering. “We were so close to the border. Why did Moses turn us back to the south when we should have gone eastward? “
They had been staring fearfully at the sea stretching out before the encampment. Strange!
Eight-year-old Josiah, the only son of Sarai and Abel, was a deep thinker. Neither did he shy away from confidently expressing his thoughts on any matter, although there was not much in the way of encouragement from the elders of his clan.
Shading his eyes from the red glare of the evening sun, he squinted at the citadel on the other side, away from the sea. Migdol was an imposing sight. All the events of the recent past kept crowding his mind. Since their hasty exit from Egypt, he had so many questions for his father as they snuggled close together around the warm firepit for their evening meal.
A distant wail cut into Josiah’s thoughts. Quickly, he turned around. People were scurrying out of their tents, pointing to what looked like an army of horses and chariots marching towards them from far. Fear was written on every face.
Over the din, the thundering voice of Uncle Levi could not be mistaken, “Is it because there are no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us in bringing us out of Egypt?”
Who was he shouting at? Bewildered, Josiah hurried towards his parents’ tent. As he stepped into the cool interior, his mother, who had been waiting worriedly, pulled him into a warm embrace.
“Time to pull up stakes, Josiah” Gesturing for help, she began to stuff their belongings one by one into the sacks she had already laid out on the floor.
Through the half-opened tent flap, Levi strained to see all that was going on outside while half-heartedly rolling up the bedding on the floor.
“Look, mother! The soldiers have disappeared!” Josiah pointed at the cloud in the far distance.
The cloud which had stood as a guide in front of the entire camp until then had moved to form a barricade behind them.
More strange things! Dashing out of the tent before his mother could grab him, he ran towards the people milling about in groups and staring at the sea. He had to know what else was happening.
The next thing Josiah knew someone had scooped him up and was hoisting him on to his shoulders. Glancing down, he let out a sigh of relief. It was the familiar face of his father.
But the astonishment on his face!
He quickly looked up. A few hundred yards away and beside the swirling waters, stood their leader, the dignified Moses, with his staff stretched out over the sea. Powerful gusts of wind from the east were pushing back the waters to one side. It almost looked like a giant, invisible hand was hovering over the waters and dividing the sea.
So indescribably magnificent. Spellbinding.
And for once, Josiah, perched atop his father’s shoulders and watching the spectacle unfolding before his very eyes, was dumbstruck.
An imaginative account based on Exodus 14* 'Israel saw the great power that the LORD used against the Egyptians, so the people feared the LORD, and they believed in the LORD and in his servant Moses.' Ex.14:31