Free By Way of the Wilderness by Gilbert Morris Page B

to Moses. He was not usually given to such impulses, but he was very taken with the black-haired Zipporah, and he said to Jethro, “You may have heard the story of my forefather Jacob.”
    â€œI know it well.”
    â€œThen you know that when he left his father’s house and came to a strange land, the first person he saw was a young woman, and he loved her. Give me your daughter Zipporah for my wife, and I will serve you for seven years, even as Jacob served for Rachel.”
    Zipporah had not said a word through this interchange. She did, however, have her dark eyes fixed on Moses, and her lips were slightly parted.
    Moses turned to her and said, “Of course, I would not take you against your will, but if you will have a stranger for a husband, perhaps God will be good to us.”
    Zipporah’s eyes were locked with Moses’ own, and she said quietly but with certainty, “I will have you for my husband.”
    â€œThat is good!” Jethro exclaimed. “I will have a son after all. My daughter is yours, Moses, and one day the sheep will be yours too.” The sisters excitedly gathered around Zipporah, whispering to her and hugging her.
    As Moses rose and went over to his betrothed, the sisters separated, their eyes envious. He held out his hand, and Zipporah put her hand in it. “This is very sudden, Zipporah. You do not know me, nor do I know you.”
    â€œBut I will be your wife, and a wife will know her husband.”
    â€œYou are marrying a strange man,” Moses said. “I give you fair warning. You would be better off with another.”
    But Zipporah shook her head. “No,” she said. “I take you for my husband.”
    â€œAnd I take you,” said Moses, “for my wife. We will go to the desert and keep your father’s flock. We will have many children.” He put his other hand over Zipporah’s and smiled. “Our lives will be simple, as simple as those sheep that we care for.”



Chapter 7
    â€œThere now, my little one, don’t wiggle—let me help you.”
    The young shepherd who was watching Moses attempt to free a scrawny lamb from the grasp of a thornbush shook his head in disgust. His name was Gili, and he spent a great deal of his time wondering what sort of man his master was. Now he snorted impatiently, “That lamb’s going to die anyway, master. Just break its neck and spend your time on more important things.”
    Moses turned to look at the shepherd. Gili was a tall, stringy individual, almost emaciated but tough as a piece of dried leather. Two of his front teeth were missing, which gave his speech a whistling quality, but despite the missing teeth he considered himself quite a catch for the young women he pursued. Moses shook his head. “You’re a hardhearted young man, Gili.”
    â€œHardhearted?! Why it’s just a worthless lamb!”
    â€œNothing is worthless in God’s sight.” Moses’ big hands moved carefully and gently pulled the thorns away from the twisted, stringy wool of the lamb. “The Great Creator made this lamb the same as He made you.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous! It’s just a dumb beast—while I, on the other hand, am a human being.”
    Moses did not answer for a moment. He had removed the last of the needlelike thorns from the lamb’s wool and now stood up, cuddling the tiny creature in his arms. He stared at Gili, trying to think of a way to make the ignorant young man understand something about the God he himself longed for so desperately. For nearly forty years now he had wandered in the desert, tending the sheep of his father-in-law, Jethro, but it seemed to him that God was even more evasive than when Moses had been a prince of Egypt. Still, the years in the desert had not weakened his intense desire for the God whose name he did not even know.
    â€œHaven’t you ever looked up at night and seen the stars,