Freedom

Pharaoh’s forces were indeed cursed.

Hundreds of his finest chariots suddenly stopped in their tracks with every problem imaginable. Perfectly crafted axles snapped in two, wheels fell off, and riders were thrown to the ground. Panic stricken horses with riderless chariots ran in every direction, crushing many of their own soldiers in the mayhem.

And still Pharaoh pursued the Hebrews, driven by wrath, and blinded to his own fate.

Not surprisingly, at the same time Moses raised his staff, Pharaoh drew his bow, for he was close enough to take a lucky shot. But with the old prophet in his sights, he failed to notice a large rock before his chariot smashed into a hundred pieces.

It didn’t stop him. Picking himself up from the ground Pharaoh grasped his bow and arrow to fire again. White hot rage could only focus on one thing; killing Moses.

Pharaoh was so close now, he could see exactly what Moses was doing.

He could see, but he paid no regard. When someone is consumed with rage, their senses are dulled. Pharaoh didn’t hear the the pain of men and horses breaking bones. He didn't see the terror of the ocean walls collapsing. He didn't feel the sorrow of his last breath.

He didn't care. All he felt was rage. Pure evil rage.

And that was the last thing he felt, at least in this life.

The titanic avalanche of water reigned down more destruction than a tsunami. For a tidal wave spreads it’s force over miles of coastline - but these two colossal walls of water collapsed into a narrow canyon just a few hundred yards wide.

Joshua waited till the monstrous waves died down before wading through the water for any signs of life. Every Hebrew had crossed safely, but Pharaoh and his army were no where to be seen.

Slowly as the churning waters returned to their slumber, Joshua walked further into the water to catch closer look. Far beyond the breaking waves he saw the bodies of thousands of men, stripped of their armor and clothing, floating on the surface.

They were all dead - laid out like a banquet for an army of birds to feast upon. Gulls and cormorants, ospreys and pelicans swarmed in a frenzy fighting each other for a seat at this table.

Soon enough, other guests arrived from the depths of the oceans. Swarms of sharks churned and thrashed a frenzy of bubbles and blood. The waters came alive with ravenous predators, like the hounds of hell devouring their prey. It was a feast fit for royalty – with a king, and all army on the menu.

Joshua quickly headed back to the shallow water, fearful for his own safety. When some thing suddenly brushed against his foot, he was relieved to discover it was only a dead body washed ashore. It was no one special, just an unknown soldier, but sword in his belt looked too beautiful to leave rusting on the beach forever.

It was a curious feeling. In all his years of slavery Joshua desperately wanted to fight. Now as a free man, it felt strange to hold such a magnificent weapon.

Naturally, it's owner no longer needed it. Joshua paused to admire the finely craftedblade in the morning sunlight. He was almost going to throw it back in the water when he changed his mind. It would no doubt prove a trusted companion in the coming days.

He carefully sheathed the sword in his belt, turned and joined Moses, with the rest of his people, safe on freedom's shores.