Mother’s Day 2026: Three Models of Mothering

May 10, 2026, Glynwood Baptist Church

James Jackson, Pastor

Good morning! Please open your Bibles to Exodus 2. Today, I want to speak to women who have a heart for children.

Notice I didn’t say “mothers.”

I hope today is a joyful day for many of you—honoring your mom, celebrating new motherhood, or remembering a mother who has gone on to be with the Lord.

But I also know Mother’s Day can be difficult. For some, it brings grief, longing, or complicated emotions. And if it took something just to show up today, I want you to know—we see you, and I’m glad you’re here.

And here’s why I think this passage will encourage you: in Exodus 2, we see three pictures of what it means to mother. But only one is a biological mother.

Let me pray for us, and then we’ll look at God’s Word together.

[Pray]

Jochebed: Mothering by Biology

The first mom we’re going to look at is Moses’ mother, introduced in Exodus 2.

By this point in the story, God’s people have been in Egypt for generations. What began as a family of seventy has grown into a nation, and a new Pharaoh—who “knew not Joseph”—sees them as a threat.

So he orders the unthinkable: every Hebrew baby boy is to be killed. And when the midwives refuse, he escalates—commanding that every son be cast into the Nile.

That’s the world Moses is born into.

So that’s the background for our first mom. Let’s read together what Exodus 2:1-4 has to say about her:

Exodus 2:1–4 ESV

¹ Now a man from the house of Levi went and took as his wife a Levite woman. ² The woman conceived and bore a son, and when she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him three months. ³ When she could hide him no longer, she took for him a basket made of bulrushes and daubed it with bitumen and pitch. She put the child in it and placed it among the reeds by the river bank. ⁴ And his sister stood at a distance to know what would be done to him.

From this passage, we don’t even know the mother’s name—or the baby’s name. Of course, we know the baby is Moses.

But his mother’s name? That comes later, in Exodus 6:20: Jochebed.

We don’t know much about her—but what we do know matters. She’s from the tribe of Levi, and her name means “The glory of Yahweh.”

But what she does—that’s unforgettable.

When she can no longer hide her son, she places him in a basket and sets him among the reeds of the Nile. Not as an act of desperation—but as an act of faith.

And notice this. We know from verse 4 that Moses had a big sister. Her name is Miriam. Miriam is watching from the reeds, and when Pharaoh’s daughter (more about her in a minute) find him and realizes he’s a Hebrew baby, Miriam offers to go fetch Jochebed to nurse Moses.

So God, in His providence, makes a way for her to continue nursing and shaping Moses in his earliest years. The fact that in the very next scene Moses identifies as a Hebrew against an Egyptian tells you that Jochebed’s influence was considerable!

But Jochebed has at least one more child, because we find out later there’s a brother named Aaron.

So let’s think about what Jochebed accomplished as a mom.

She raised a smart, resourceful daughter who would later be called a prophetess. Only three other women in all of Scripture are given that title. She was also the first worship leader in Scripture, leading the women of Israel in song after they cross the Red Sea.

Then there’s Aaron. He also is called a prophet. He became God’s mouthpiece to Pharaoh. And later, he would be ordained as the first high priest for the Jewish people, and every high priest thereafter would come from the line of Aaron.

And of course, there’s Moses himself, the future Giver of the Law. On any list of the most influential people in history, Moses is going to be near the top. Most of us parents are trying to figure out how to get our kids to read the Bible. Jochebed’s kid sat around writing the Bible!

What does it take for a mother to raise not one, not two, but three amazing children, each with their own gifts, their own personalities, and their own callings from God?

Every single child has gifts for leadership, music, speaking, writing, and spiritual discernment. But not every child has a mom who allows each of her children to grow and mature and thrive on their own terms. Jochebed seems to have been a mother like that.

Jochebed was brave. Instead of allowing Moses to be murdered under a royal edict, she coated the bottom of a woven basket with tar to waterproof it. Then she put Moses in the basket.

Now, the movie “The Prince of Egypt” makes it look like the basket was shooting down class IV rapids and crocodile infested waters. But the Bible doesn’t say that. It just says she placed it among the reeds (v. 3). And it “just so happened” that Pharaoh’s daughter came down to that very spot to bathe in the river. That may have been pure providence—or it may have been careful planning. I think Jochebed probably scouted out a safe area first. She probably knew where Pharaoh’s daughter liked to bathe, and came up with a plan based around that schedule. But still, she trusted God to act.

So Jochebed was creative. She was courageous! She raised three strong, spiritually minded children.

And then, she did the bravest, hardest thing of all. She let them go. She entrusted all of them to God’s care. This is most obvious with Moses, because she literally let him go to float down the Nile. But I think this was true for all three of them. And this can be the toughest thing to do as a parent.

So moms, where does Jochebed’s story challenge you the most? Is it her courage? Her faith? Her parenting style? Or is it her willingness to put her child into God’s hands, even when it’s dangerous or uncertain?

The world needs more Aarons. More Miriams. More Moseses. Which means, the world needs more Jochebeds who will let them go.

But Jochebed was not the only influence in Moses’ life.

Let’s look at the woman who took him in and raised him as her own.

Pharaoh’s Daughter: Mothering by Adoption

Scripture doesn’t give us her name—only that she was Pharaoh’s daughter. Some have suggested she may have been the Egyptian princess Hatshepsut, a woman known for strength and independence. And maybe that’s what it took to defy her father’s decree.

But whatever her name was, she took this child as her own and named him Moses—“because I drew him out of the water.”

And in that moment, we see something remarkable: someone stepping in and saying, This child will not be abandoned.

And notice this—she didn’t do it alone. When Miriam steps forward and offers help, Pharaoh’s daughter doesn’t resist it. She receives it.

And that’s important, because one thing that’s true of all mothers—but especially adoptive mothers—is that they have to be willing to ask for help.

Sometimes that means leaning on family. Sometimes it means learning from others who have walked that road before.

I have a friend who adopted a Black daughter and realized very quickly—I don’t know how to take care of her hair. So she sought out a Black coworker who did, and who was willing to teach her. And those two women developed an incredibly close friendship.

Asking for help is not weakness. It’s wisdom.

Pharaoh’s daughter had the power of Egypt behind her—and she still needed help raising that child.

Sometimes, a mother in difficult circumstances has to make the heartbreaking decision to place her child for adoption or foster care. And when that happens, we trust God to provide someone who will step in with love, stability, and compassion.

I thank God for moms and dads who are willing to do exactly that.

This week, I called our local representative for Alabama Baptist Homes for children, and he shared and amazing statistic with me: At any given moment in Alabama, there are 6,000 children in need of foster care. Some of them are only in for a couple of weeks. Others have been there for 4-5 years.

Now, think about this: there are around 3000 Southern Baptist churches in Alabama. If just two families in every church committed to be a foster parent, then nearly every kid in the system could have a loving, Christian home.

Some of you may know that I preached this sermon on Mother’s Day four years ago. You may have notes scribbled in the margin. Some of you might even have that bulletin from four years ago stuffed in your Bible.

Back then, it was just before Roe v. Wade was overturned, and we were asking how the church might respond to there being so many more at risk or unwanted children in the system

But I don’t have to wonder about that anymore.

Because in the four years since then, eight families in this church have fostered or adopted around fifteen children.

This morning, every child we dedicated on this platform came into their family through adoption.

I am so incredibly proud of you guys. I don’t think there’s another church our size in the state of Alabama with that kind of track record!

So where does this story challenge you?

Maybe God is calling you to step in—to foster, to adopt, to make room.

And if that’s you, start praying. Talk to one of the families in this church who have walked that road.

And if that’s not your calling, there are still so many ways to care for children in need.

Because that brings us to our final picture of mothering—advocacy.

And for that, we look to Shiphrah and Puah.

Shiphrah and Puah: Mothering By Advocacy

Raise your hand if you’ve ever heard of Shiphrah and Puah.

Some of you are thinking, “Those are the guys from The Lion King, right?”

No—that’s Timon and Pumba. Shiphrah and Puah were midwives in Exodus 1. They were most likely Hebrew women. However, in some manuscripts, the phrase the ESV translated as Hebrew midwives is translated as “midwives to the Hebrew women.” So there is at least a chance that they were Egyptian.

Pharaoh gave them a direct order: when a Hebrew boy is born, kill him.

But look at Exodus 1:17-22

Exodus 1:17–22 ESV

¹⁷ But the midwives feared God and did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but let the male children live. ¹⁸ So the king of Egypt called the midwives and said to them, “Why have you done this, and let the male children live?” ¹⁹ The midwives said to Pharaoh, “Because the Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women, for they are vigorous and give birth before the midwife comes to them.” ²⁰ So God dealt well with the midwives. And the people multiplied and grew very strong. ²¹ And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families.

Now Shiphrah and Puah could have stopped at words. They could have hated what they were being told to do, but still followed orders.

But they didn’t. They chose to obey God and defy Pharaoh instead of obeying Pharaoh and defying God.

So They stood in the gap for children who could not speak for themselves.

They disobeyed Pharaoh, putting their own lives on the line.

And God honored them for it. Verse 21 says that “because the midwives feared God, he gave them families.”

Now, what does that look like for us?

It means that advocacy is more than what we say.
It’s what we do.
It’s what we give.
It’s who we make room for.

And here’s the beautiful thing—we’re already seeing that happen in this church.

Some of you are caring for children who are not your own.
Some of you are walking alongside families who are in the middle of that journey. I know one of our former members who has agreed to be a surrogate for a mother that can’t carry a baby herself. She’s willing to bear the discomfort and pain of childbirth because she wants to give a someone a chance to be a family.

That’s what this kind of courage looks like today.

Shiphrah and Puah didn’t just take a stand—they took responsibility.

And that’s the invitation for all of us.

Maybe you’re called to be like Jochebed—
to raise and release the children God has given you.

Or maybe like Jochebed, you can be a mentor for a new mother.

Maybe you’re called to be like Pharaoh’s daughter—
to step in and make room for a child who needs a home.

And maybe you’re called to be like Shiphrah and Puah—
to advocate, to support, to stand in the gap.

But all of us are called to care.

For the unborn…

For the newborn…
For the unexpected…
For the unwanted…
For the unloved.

And the good news is—we don’t have to start from scratch. God has given us models— both in the pages of Scripture and in this very room, of what it looks like. You are already seeing what that looks like.

So let’s not stop now.

Invitation

But there is a final question, and I don’t want to assume we all know the answer:

Why should we do any of this? Where does our sense of obligation come from?

Well, if you are a follower of Jesus, the answer is simple. We love because God first loved us.

We seek to be mothers to the motherless because God is a father to the fatherless.

We adopt kids into our family because God adopted us into His family.

Listen to how Ephesians 2 describes us before Christ:

“remember that you were at that time separated from Christ… having no hope and without God in the world.”

That was us.

Helpless.

Hopeless.

Without God.

But then two of the most beautiful words in all of Scripture:

But God.

“But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us… made us alive together with Christ.”

Do you see it?

God stepped in.

When we could not save ourselves—He stepped in.
When we had no hope—He stepped in.
When we were far from Him—He brought us near.

And that’s why we do this.

Not to earn His love—
but because we already have it.

We step in… because He stepped in for us.

So as we come to a time of invitation, God is inviting you to step in to a child’s life. Be that nurturer and that champion for your own children. Be a rescuer for someone else’s child. Be an advocate for all children.

And if you don’t have a relationship with Jesus, allow God to step in and rescue you.

Happy Mother’s Day. Let’s pray.