To keep going, to keep struggling even when it’s hard. To keep persevering when breakthrough seems a mockery, and hope has dimmed. To see your children whipped and beaten, to see your husband bent over with sorrow. To mop his brow everyday when he comes home from building pagan cities for a cruel and wicked pharaoh, to struggle with your own confusing doubt. To live as a slave, wearing invisible bonds. To wonder so many times about so many things and yet you encourage the broken, help the fallen and break chains off the minds of the bound. You choose to stand tall, to believe in the God of your ancestors who promised a certain deliverance. You believe it could be one of your family, your husband or sister in law, even yourself and you do what others find it hard to do, you fight.
You wouldn’t know it, but destiny is still coming, and the future looks glorious, not without pain or trial, but you will see greater things for Yahweh has chosen you. From among the millions, you are favoured by His Hand, you cannot know it now or see it, but the Great I am does and He is preparing you, right in the furnace of fire, right in the grip of pharaoh. Right where it’s dark and empty, where slave songs fill the morning air and prayers of anguish fill the night sky. Right here, now…. this is my story, a story of Grace, I am Elisheba, Mother of the Priesthood.