A short piece of biblical fiction about fear, faith, and taking one more step.
The story of Moses parting the Red Sea is one of the most dramatic moments in the Bible. But what might it have felt like to be an ordinary person standing in that crowd? This short piece of biblical fiction imagines the moment through the eyes of a frightened girl taking one step into the impossible.
We stand restlessly waiting.
No one speaks. No one dares to move.
We are caught between two impossible things: destruction behind us, and an ocean before us, and all of us seem to be holding the same shallow breath, waiting to see which one will claim us first.
The waters roar ahead of us, waves crashing against each other in dark rolling swells that stretch farther than my eyes could follow. The sea is endless. Uncrossable.
Behind us, a thick black cloud churns and spins like living smoke, towering between us and the army that hunts us. Every now and then the faint glint of armor flashes within its darkness. They are there. Waiting. Pressing closer.
And at the edge of the water stands Moses.
His arms are raised high, staff lifted toward the sky like a challenge to the storm.
I stare at him, my stomach twisting.
I admit easily that his faith is far stronger than my own right now.
The wind begins to rise.
At first it is only a restless stirring across the surface of the sea, but then it grows faster and louder, until it tears through the crowd with a furious howl. Hair whips across my face. Cloaks snap violently around our legs.
The water answers.
Spray explodes from the waves as the wind drives them backward. Droplets scatter into the air like shattered glass, catching the light for the briefest moment.
For a heartbeat, a rainbow flashes in the mist.
Then something impossible happens.
The sea moves.
It pulls apart.
At first, I wonder if my eyes are lying to me as the water begins to split down the center. Like skin peeling back from a wound, the sea draws away from herself. The wind screams louder, forcing the waves aside, until towering walls of water rise on either side of a widening stretch of exposed ground.
Dry ground.
A path through the sea.
The roar is deafening now, water battling wind on both sides of us, two living walls of churning beside a narrow corridor of trembling earth.
And Moses steps forward.
My heart stutters.
“He can’t be serious,” I whisper.
The words slip out before I can stop them.
A sharp, silent pause strikes us all at once, and I know I’m not the only one in awe and doubt. Then, a few more people braver than me step down from the bank to follow our leader.
“Oh,” I exhale shakily. “He’s completely serious.”
The spinning smoke behind us begins to press forward, urging us to move. I know what it is. I know it’s God shielding us from the Egyptians.
But knowing that doesn’t make my feet move.
My chest tightens painfully.
I draw in a deep breath that does nothing to release the pressure building behind my ribs. The air smells like storm water and salt and fear.
Still, I force my foot forward.
I step down the bank.
And I stumble.
My legs shake violently beneath me. They feel unreliable, like they might simply collapse if I ask them to carry me any farther.
A horn blasts somewhere behind the cloud.
The sound slices through the air like a blade.
I twist around in panic, staring into the dark wall of smoke. The army can see this too. I know they can. They are watching us walk into the sea.
They will follow.
My breath fractures.
Sharp, shallow breaths refuse to fill my lungs properly. My head is spinning.
“God,” I gasp, the word ripping out of me. “I can’t go forward, I can’t do this. I’m not this brave!”
Darkness creeps into the edges of my vision.
Black spots bloom and spread until the world narrows into a tunnel centered on the path ahead.
Then something presses gently into my thoughts.
One more step.
The words are quiet, but they wrap around me like steady hands.
Take one more step.
I swallow hard. I nod.
Anyone watching might have suspected I’d lost my mind.
But no one is watching me. They are watching the walls of water.
Wind lashes my hair across my face as I drag another breath into my lungs.
I step.
Suddenly a heavy pressure settles against the center of my back.
A hand.
Warm. Steady.
It pushes me forward.
I stumble several steps before my terrified heart can catch up with what’s happening, and then instinct finally takes over. Panic surges through my chest and I break into a run, scrambling to catch up with the rest of my people.
Inside the corridor of the sea, the world becomes strangely quiet.
The waters still roar above us, and the wind still howls across the path.
But beneath it all, there is another sound: thousands of feet moving across the ground, all of us walking in stunned, fearful silence.
Drops of water fall from the walls beside us, splashing onto our skin and clothing.
No one speaks.
No one dares to.
I can’t see Moses at the front of the crowd anymore, the crowd is too thick, and I’m too short to see above the heads of the people ahead of me. I have fallen near the back of the line.
The pressure against my back remains.
It steadies my steps.
Strength flows into my legs that I know does not belong to me.
I do not stop long enough to question it.
Behind us, hooves thunder.
The ground trembles faintly beneath the weight of an army beginning its charge.
They are coming.
My breathing falters again.
Without thinking, I shove my hand into the wall of water beside me.
The sea is freezing.
It sends a shock through my arm and snaps my thoughts back into place. My lungs finally pull in a full breath.
I leave my fingertips trailing through the water as I walk.
Somewhere behind me, the presence at my back shifts.
It’s amused.
The realization brings a small smile to my lips despite the terror clawing at my ribs.
I remind myself I am safe.
Eventually the ground begins to rise beneath our feet.
The far bank.
We climb out of the sea one by one, scrambling onto the sand and turning to watch the impossible path stretching behind us.
My chest tightens again when I see them.
The Egyptian army pours into the corridor, chariots racing across the exposed ground, soldiers shouting in triumph.
And suddenly:
The presence at my back disappears.
Cold emptiness replaces it.
The cloud that shielded us is gone.
Moses raises his arms again.
The wind shifts.
For one suspended heartbeat, the entire world seems to hold still.
Then the sea collapses.
The walls of water slam together with a thunderous roar that shakes the earth beneath my feet. Waves crash over the soldiers, swallowing chariots and horses in a violent, unstoppable flood.
It is fast.
Brutal.
And over before I fully understand what I have seen.
My breathing breaks into short gasps again as I press my hand against my chest.
“We actually made it,” I whisper.
The words are so quiet I don’t expect anyone to hear them.
But Moses turns.
A soft smile curves across his face, and something knowing glints in his eyes.
His gaze settles directly on me.
“You did well, little one.”
He steps closer and places a firm hand on my shoulder.
I press my hand to my chest, feeling my heart finally slow.
“God,” I whisper. “I did it.”
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