When You’re Meant to Lead
Miriam – When You’re Meant to Lead
Scripture Spotlight: Exodus 2:1–10; Exodus 15:20–21; Numbers 12 This Week’s Theme: We’re walking through the lives of some lesser-known (and underappreciated) women of the Bible. Today’s story brings us mystery, strategy, family drama, boldness, music, and a whole lot of courage. If you’ve ever been the protector, the planner, or the one who seems to carry more responsibility than you signed up for… Miriam is your girl.
Historical + Biblical Background: Pharaoh had issued a horrifying decree: every Hebrew baby boy must be thrown into the Nile. Jochebed, a Levite woman, gives birth to a son and hides him for three months. When she can hide him no longer, she waterproofs a papyrus basket and gently places him among the reeds of the Nile River. But someone else is watching—Miriam. Most scholars believe she was somewhere between 7 and 12 years old, likely just a girl herself. And yet, she showed wisdom, bravery, and timing far beyond her years. What happened next wasn’t an accident. Pharaoh's daughter just “happened” to be bathing at that very spot. Coincidence? Not likely. It’s divine choreography. Miriam steps forward—calmly, confidently—and asks, “Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?” Pharaoh’s daughter agrees, and Miriam rushes to get their mother. Not only is the baby’s life saved, but Moses is raised under royal protection… and his own mother gets paid to nurse him. That’s a holy mic drop.
Let’s Add Some Texture: How old was Miriam exactly? We don't know for sure, but she was young. And smart. Do you think she and Jochebed rehearsed the plan? Did they time their steps? Were they watching the tide or counting the hours to Pharaoh’s daughter’s daily bath? And here’s another twist: where was Pharaoh’s wife in all of this? Why was the princess—not the queen—taking in a Hebrew baby? Most likely, Pharaoh’s daughter was quite young herself. Maybe even a teenager. And honestly, what teenage girl has the know-how to raise a baby alone? No wonder she needed Moses’ birth mom as a nursemaid. This young Egyptian girl, caught in the politics and expectations of the palace, makes an incredibly countercultural choice—to protect and raise a Hebrew child under her father’s nose. God uses women of every background and age to accomplish His plans.
When Children Come to Us in Unexpected Ways: Some of you have raised kids who didn’t start out as yours. Through adoption, fostering, step-parenting, kinship care, or simply being the safe adult in a child’s world—you’ve been a Miriam. It’s not always tidy or sweet. Sometimes love is complicated, courageous, and costly. But God uses those willing hearts.
Fast Forward: A Tambourine and a Triumph After the Red Sea parted and Israel walked through on dry land, who do we find on the banks with a tambourine in hand? Miriam. Exodus 15:20–21 says: “Then Miriam the prophetess, Aaron’s sister, took a timbrel in her hand, and all the women followed her, with timbrels and dancing.” She was the first woman in Scripture to be called a prophetess. Her leadership style? Musical, joyful, and bold. She knew when to step up and declare God's victory. But her story doesn’t end there.
A Lesson in Leadership: In Numbers 12, Miriam questions Moses’ authority. She and Aaron both complain, but Miriam is the one struck with leprosy. Why? Maybe she was the ringleader. Maybe she crossed a line. God healed her, but the consequences were real. Leadership is sacred—but tricky. It’s easy to slip into comparison, pride, and the need to control. Especially if, like Miriam, you’ve been strong your whole life. What’s in a Name? Miriam’s name is believed to mean “rebellion” or “bitterness.” Fitting, considering she was born during a time of slavery and suffering. But what does God do with bitterness? He transforms it into bravery. He rewrites the story.
From My Life: When You Have to Step In I remember a moment from childhood that changed me forever. I was playing at a friend’s house a few doors down and went inside to grab a glass of grape juice. That’s when I noticed Mr. Keeling, my friend’s grandfather, sitting in his chair—silent, groaning, and something wasn’t right. I picked up the phone and called 911. They later said I saved his life. Years later, I found myself in a far scarier situation. During my single years, I dated a man who was strong and healthy—until COVID hit him hard. He didn’t want to go to the hospital. But when I stopped by and saw how bad he looked, I knew something was wrong. I bought a pulse oximeter, checked him, and his oxygen level was 48%. He told me to leave. I told him, “You get in my car, or I call an ambulance and walk out.” He got in. He lived. It was terrifying. I normally freeze in crisis, but somehow God gave me what I needed in both moments. Sometimes courage doesn’t roar—it just moves.
From My Heart: The Real Struggle with Control- I was the big sister, but I’ve felt like the adult since I was ten years old. Growing up in chaos meant I often became the voice of reason, even for those much older than me. Control felt like safety. Predictable. Necessary. But over time, I’ve learned something important—my desire for control doesn’t always come across the way I hope. Sometimes, it feels bossy. Arrogant. And that’s not who I want to be. God is in control. Not me. And even though surrender hasn’t come naturally, it’s brought more peace than I ever imagined. Letting go isn’t easy—but it’s healing.
Reflection Challenge: Write a letter to your younger self. Tell her what she got right. Tell her what she didn’t have to carry. Remind her that God was with her— in the basket moments, in the tambourine praise, and even in the missteps. Reflection Questions: Where have you felt called to lead in your life? Do you ever confuse leadership with control? Why do you think that is? Is there a part of your story you’ve been trying to manage instead of surrendering? Closing Thought: Miriam was bold, brilliant, and brave—but she wasn’t perfect. God used her leadership in both the quiet watching and the loud worshipping. You may find yourself hiding in the reeds or dancing in the victory… either way, He’s using you.
