Pharaoh's daughter named her son Moses because she drew him out of the water.
I visited the House of Moses yesterday.
This is a house solely for babies, Zambian babies that are drawn out of hopelessness.
Upon leaving this place, after holding a few babiesand doing very little to help anyone, I was feeling a bit hopeless myself. Not for the babies I had nestled in my arms or clapped with or rolled around on the floor with in play, but hopeless because I knew that these were not all of the babies.
Then I read the story of Moses.
Amram, Moses' mother, found herself in a situation that seemed humanly impossible, without hope.
She was one Hebrew surrounded by a sea of slavery, living under a law she could not change.
She couldn't change the world.
She couldn't even change her world.
She couldn't change the law.
She couldn't save all the babies.
Evil showed its ugliness on her every side and in the face of it, she did not destroy her son.
She saved him.
I am surrounded by evil and it frustrates every finger I lift to work against it.
Like Amram, I'm directing my war against the evil one towards the smallest of efforts.
A small act of courage set into motion the rescue of God's people from Egypt.
All he needs are small things, such as these few hours loving babies, to begin his redeeming work.
In the words of Mother Teresa, "small things with great love".