And sure enough, that’s what Pharaoh’s army did.  The foot soldiers stayed on the distant beach, but the chariots and horsemen raced down between the walls of water toward us.

So much for faith and confidence!  My certainty of Yahweh’s power and his care for us dissolved as I watched.  I put my hand to my mouth in shock and watched as Pharaoh’s army poured down into the canyon that we had traversed so slowly during the night.  The dry sea-bottom would be as good a road for them as it had been for us, and it was obvious that our fate would be every bit as bad as the worst we had imagined the night before.

Full of despair and anger, I watched the inevitable unfolding before me.  My anger was directed against Moses and God because it seemed that they had led us into a disaster that was even worse than our initial problem of slavery.  Even slaves can die at a good old age, but Pharaoh wasn’t likely to let us off easily when his land had been ruined by plagues – plagues that had culminated in the death of his own oldest son, and millions of others besides.

No, as I watched the chariots speeding easily towards me, I was sure that soon I and my wife and children would all be dead.

But there was still that pillar of fire and cloud between us and them.  It not only filled the width of the canyon, but also towered above the water of the sea.  Its roiling mass was close behind our rearguard, which by now was making its way up to the beach.

In earlier making sure that we were clear of the beach and out of the way, we had ended up off to one side of the canyon, and so I could see past the pillar.  The light it shed was bright enough to show even the far side of the Red Sea as the light of the coming day slowly grew around us.

By that time, all of Pharaoh’s chariots and mounted men were down inside the Red Sea Canyon and charging towards us, the chariots in the lead, the rumble of their wheels and the thundering of the horses’ hoofs filling the early morning air.  The ones in front had passed the lowest point and were climbing up toward us, the horses straining in their harnesses, seeming as eager as their masters to reach the shore where the quarry waited.

Yet the pillar of fire and cloud was still in their way.  Would it be hot enough or frightening enough to stop them somehow?

I’ve got to tell you that it wasn’t a short distance across the sea at that point!  We had been walking for much of the night to cross it, and as the chariots galloped across, effortlessly swallowing up the distance we had struggled so hard to cover, the last of the people of Israel finally made their way out of the water-walled canyon and up onto the beach.  By then, my family had moved away from the beach area and, with others, were climbing the slopes towards a range of mountains that lay before us.  As I surveyed the rugged terrain, I thought that maybe it would be possible to hide amongst the scattered boulders or in the ravines that led towards the foothills, and thus make our way into the mountains and safety.

But Moses had said that Yahweh would fight for us, and at that moment I realised that I had to decide whether I believed what he said, or what my eyes were telling me.  Could I believe in something that I had no proof of, or would I accept the obvious?

I decided to stop and watch what was happening.  I wasn’t completely sure, but I had a sneaking feeling that Moses might be right.  I wasn’t so sure about Yahweh at that moment, but I did have a little hope and confidence in Moses.

And as I watched, something changed.  The leading chariots had almost reached the column of fire, but now they seemed be struggling.  The horses’ free-flowing gallop seemed to suddenly become hard labour.  Some of the chariots didn’t seem to be able to travel in a straight line any more, and I’m sure that I saw wheels falling off several.

Soon the column of chariots that had been spread out along the floor of the Red Sea began bunching up as the ones behind tried to slow down to dodge the ones in front that had suddenly lost speed.  By that time they were close enough that I could see many of the men in the chariots jumping down to try to do something to the wheels of their chariots or the harnesses of their horses.  At first they seemed to have a matter-of-fact “something’s wrong, I need to fix it” attitude, but after a while it became clear that the progress of the column had stopped completely.  There was lots of desperate movement, but no progress as they jostled together down there in the canyon.  A clear road lay before them, but maybe they could see some problems down in the sand that I couldn’t see from my vantage point.  I had walked across the same place without any difficulty, but maybe collecting all that water into massive walls began to cause problems after so many hours.  Maybe, I thought, the water was seeping through under the sand.  And I guess that that’s what Pharaoh and his men were thinking too.

“Stand still,” Moses had said, and I decided to obey.  Due to the slope of the land at that point, the entire multitude of Israel was in a position where we could either watch Pharaoh’s army gradually giving way to doubt and fear, or scurry away like rats, looking for a place to hide.

In that frenzied moment, I saw my doubts and my available choices with a strange clarity.  I had to choose whether to give way to fear, or to have confidence in something I could not control.  The difficulty was that many of the people behind us wanted us to keep moving and would not respond to my encouragement to turn around and watch what was unfolding behind them.  Nevertheless, some of those in front were standing in our way – immovable – with their eyes fixed on the Red Sea, the water of which seemed to be moving somehow.  When I almost gave in to the insistence of the people behind me to keep moving forward, those people in front were the perfect excuse: I couldn’t move forward – they were in the way!

So I stood and watched, gradually noticing that more and more people were stopping and watching.  Standing expectantly.  Standing, I suddenly realised, in silence.  The howling wind that had been blowing into our faces all through the night had slowed and stopped.

Back in the canyon, Pharaoh’s chariots and horsemen were having a hard time of it.  They had expected an easy victory, but everything seemed to have gone wrong for them as they approached the pillar.  Their wheels were stuck in the surface that had seemed so dry when they had started galloping across, and with the cessation of the strong wind, the walls of water that towered high above them seemed to be starting to waver and wobble.

Fear spread through their ranks, and the leading chariot tried to turn around, maybe in hope of hurrying back toward the far shore.  Yet the problems that had brought them to a standstill didn’t seem to have gone away.  As the driver struggled to whip the horses into motion, they appeared to be floundering as if in deep mud, and then one of the wheels of the chariot fell off.  Quickly, the men in the chariot leapt out and began desperately to run away from the pillar, away from us, away from everything they now feared.  But the thing that they really needed to fear was already thundering towards them along the canyon.  The walls of water near the other side of the Red Sea had burst and a maelstrom of foaming water was rushing down towards the lowest part of the sea bottom.  It engulfed horses and horsemen, picking them up like so many leaves and throwing them around in the flood; then finally flinging them into the sea, where the remaining walls of water were dissolving.  Chariots and horses were hurled against those weakening walls and immediately disappeared into the depths of the sea.  At that precise moment, the first rays of the rising sun threw their golden light on the scene.  The light shone and sparkled on the water as the walls collapsed inward and massive waves crashed down on Pharaoh’s men.  Sunlight from behind us and fire from in front threw the light of Yahweh on the utter destruction of Pharaoh’s army, and all of the multitude’s gasps changed suddenly to cheers of joy.

Yahweh’s canyon of salvation was gone, its purpose achieved.  The restoration of the surface of the sea had then punished Egypt for generations of cruelty to my people.

Later, I heard that Moses had originally lifted his staff to open the path through the water, and just before that astonishing moment of sunrise, he had lifted his staff again to close it.

I have never felt such joy and confidence, yet it was mixed with some fear as well.  Only a couple of hours before we had been walking down there, on a path that was now far below the water.  My family – my wife and my children – had all been there.  What if the water had collapsed while we had been there?  God had looked after us alright, but what raw power!  And I couldn’t help wondering what might have happened if we had somehow angered him while we were down there.  A feeling of awe filled me because of the astonishing power that Yahweh had shown – but it was a power over which I had no control at all.  Would that power be there to help us the next time we needed it?  I consoled myself with the knowledge that at least Moses was there to talk to God for us.

That was an amazing morning.  Moses had a song to teach us and, after some practice, it was a glorious experience singing with so many, many triumphant voices spread out across that vast area.  As we sang and rejoiced, many bodies of dead Egyptians washed up on the shore – mute testimony to the truth of the words of our song:

“I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously;

the horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.

The Lord is my strength and my song,

and he has become my salvation;

this is my God, and I will praise him,

my father’s God, and I will exalt him.

The Lord is a man of war;

the Lord is his name.”

Moses’ sister, Miriam, also led the women in singing and dancing.  Even my wife went and joined in, although she is not normally an enthusiastic singer.  That was beautiful too.

It was a delightful morning and I have never known such happiness or thankfulness.  God truly has saved us!

Since then, we have stayed near the sea resting.  We walked all through the night to cross the sea and everyone is tired.

Tomorrow, we will start our real journey towards the Promised Land, returning at last to the place where Abraham, Isaac and Jacob all lived.

What an exciting journey that will be – the perfect opportunity for all of us to learn how to walk with God!