And so forty years went on, and Moses was an old man of eighty years
of age. Yet God had not had mercy on his poor countrymen in Egypt.
It must have been a strange life for him, the adopted son of
Pharaoh's daughter; brought up in the court of the most powerful and
highly civilized country of the old world; learned in all the
learning of the Egyptians; and now married into a tribe of wild
Arabs, keeping flocks in the lonely desert, year after year: but,
no doubt, thinking, thinking, year after year, as he fed his flocks
alone. Thinking over all the learning which he had gained in Egypt,
and wondering whether it would ever be of any use to him. Thinking
over the misery of his people in Egypt, and wondering whether he
should ever be able to help them. Thinking, too, and more than all,
of God--of God's promise to Abraham and his children. Would that
ever come true? Would GOD help these wretched Jews, even if HE
could not? Was God faithful and true, just and merciful?
That Moses thought of God, that he never lost faith in God for that
forty years, there can be no doubt.
If he had not thought of God, God would not have revealed himself to
him.
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