Moses in Midian

Published Jan 20, 2025, 10:00 AM

# 67 - Moses in Midian - In this episode of The Chosen People with Yael Eckstein, Moses finds refuge in the land of Midian, where an act of kindness changes his life forever. In this episode, we explore themes of exile, identity, and the unexpected ways God provides purpose in the wilderness.

Episode 67 of The Chosen People with Yael Eckstein is inspired by the Book of Exodus.

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For more information about Yael Eckstein and IFCJ visit https://www.ifcj.org/

Today's opening prayer is inspired by Isaiah 58:11, "The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame."

Listen to some of the greatest Bible stories ever told and make prayer a priority in your life by downloading the Pray.com app.

Show Notes:

(02:17) Intro with Yael Eckstein

(03:59) Moses in Midian - Cinematic Retelling

(30:01) Reflection with Yael Eckstein

Previously on the chosen people.

His name shall be Moses, because I drew him out.

Of the water. While Rameses embodied the glory of ra, Moses remained a figure suspended between two worlds. He was neither fully Egyptian nor entirely Hebrew, neither slave nor free. He was Moses, the stray Hebrew up raised in the heart of Pharaoh's court.

That was your Hebrew, showing that's why they need the whip, their animals in need of a master. Remember that you're not one of them, Moses. You're in the household of Pharaoh.

Act like it, yes, Ramses.

Moses stopped at the edge of the work site, his gaze lingering on a young man no older than himself, struggling to lift a stone that was too heavy for him. The overseas whip lashed out, striking the man across the back, and he staggered, falling to his knees. The man screamed in pain, he.

Brew dog, get up in left.

That's enough, Leave him alone.

These dogs need to know their masters. Are I said enough?

They struggled the commander's hands, clawing at Moses, but the prince pinned him down. His hands closing around the man's throat. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the struggle ended. The overseer's body went limp, his eyes glassy, and still, what have I done?

Oh Am?

I Moses ran his feet, barely touching the ground as he tore through the crowded marketplace.

I had to get out of here.

Moses wandered the desert, his thoughts a whirlwind of guilt and fear. He was no longer a prince, nor was he a slave. He was an exile, a fugitive with no home and no kin. In the vast emptiness of the wilderness, Moses was utterly desperately alone.

In the shadow of the well. A shepherdess meets her fate, and the world trembles under the weight of God's unfolding plan. Shallo, my friends from here in the Holy Land, Welcome to the Chosen People. I'm ya l Extein. With the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. Each day we'll hear a dramatic story inspired by the Bible, stories filled with timeless lessons of faith, love, and the meaning of life. Through israel story, we find this truth that we are all chosen first something great. If you haven't yet followed the podcast, be sure to do so now. That way you never have to miss an episode, And that small step helps us tremendously as we try to be discovered by more people so that we can inspire them. If you're interested in finding out more about the prophetic, life saving work of the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, you can visit our website at IFCJ dot org. Sometimes in the barren wilderness of our lives, we stumble upon moments that define our very essence. Today's dramatized Bible story is inspired by Exodus two sixteen to twenty two. In it, Moses wanders the desert, fleeing Egypt, alone and lost. He stumbles upon a few young women in need of help. One small act of bravery sets in motion a new life for Moses. Let's see how a simple act of kindness can lead to an eternal covenant.

Moses felt his knees buckle beneath him, the last remnants of his strength draining away as he collapsed onto the unforgiving desert sand. The sun blaze overed a cruel eye in the empty sky. The sand stretched endlessly before him, barren and pitiless, a waste land that mirrored the emptiness he felt within. For two days, he had wandered, lost and alone, without food or water. His lips were cracked, his skin scorched, and his mind a fragile thing began to unravel. Shapes flickered at the edges of his vision, ghostly apparitions born of exhaustion and despair. He saw his grandfather Setti, hovering above the dunes like a mirage. The old man's eyes were as cold and unfeeling as the stone statues that lined the ballast halls, and his voice was a whisper carried on the hot desert wind.

What is a more merciful death, Moses, to drown in the nile or melt unto the deserts Sir, you should never have lived.

Moses blinked, his throat too dry to form words, and the vision of Pharaoh vanished. In Setti's place stood Bitcher, the woman who had plucked him from the river and raised him as her own. Her eyes were filled with a bitter disappointment that cut deeper than any blade.

I should have never saved you. You aren't the blessing but a curse.

Moses's lip trembled as he stared at her, the weight of her words pressing down on him. But as quickly as she had appeared, Bitcher was gone, her image swept away by the desert wind. In her place was another figure, a woman with soft eyes and a tender voice, familiar yet distant, like the faded memory of a dream.

Rest, sweet child, You need your strength, you have a purpose.

There's a reason God most High spared you.

From the nile.

Moses tried to speak, but his tongue clung stubbornly to the roof of his mouth, dry as the sand's beneath him. The woman's face blurred and faded, carried away like grains of sand in the wind. Moses was left alone once more, his vision darkening as he closed his eyes, surrendering to the creeping shadows and the scorching heat. The storm loomed on the horizon, a swirling wall of sand that would bury him in a hot, unmarked grave. Darkness swallowed him whole. Moses awoke to the chill of night, the oppressive heat replaced by a biting cold that gnawed at his bones. Sand clung to his back, falling away as he pushed himself upright above him, the night sky stretched endlessly, a tapestry of stars so bright and clear it seemed to touch the world's edge. Moses stared up at the heavens, the weight of his despair momentarily lifted by the quiet beauty of the stars. The desert was silent now save for the faint whisper of the wind. Shivering, Moses forced himself to his feet, his body weak but driven by the stubborn spark of survival. He focused on the north Star and walked on. He wondered if there was anything beyond the desert, anything but death and emptiness. His march seemed endless, until at last last, the ground beneath him began to change. The earth grew firmer, dotted with clumps of dry brush and thorny plants that clawed at his ankles. Foliage meant water, and water meant life. Moses quickened his pace until he saw it. A well was half hidden in the distance. Its circular stone walls rose from the ground like an oasis in the desert. Moses staggered toward it, his vision narrowing to the single blessed sight. When he reached the well, he collapsed against its cool stone, Thrusting his head down into the water, he drank greedily like a beast, gulping down mouthfuls of water until his throat burned with relief. Exhausted, Moses leaned back against the well's rough stone, his body finally finding rest as sleep overtook him. The early rays of dawn broke over the horizon, Warm and golden, Moses stirred as the sunlight brushed his cheek, gentle as a lover's touch. For the first time in days, he felt something close to peace. The water had revived him, and his mind was clear, though his body still ached with fatigue.

Perhaps one of the herders could take me in and trade labor for food and shelter.

His thoughts were interrupted by a shriek in the distance. Moses turned. He scanned the rocky landscape. Behind a cluster of jagged stones, he saw a group of young women, seven in all, huddle together in fear. Three men circled them like wolves, their faces twisted with cruel amusement.

How many times do you people have to be told to stay away from our well?

Seems like you haven't learned your lesson.

Maybe Raitia tam.

We meant no trouble. We thought if we came early enough, it wouldn't bother you. Please let us leave in peace.

If I let you leave without a few bruises, what's going to remind you to listen?

Moses jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. His eyes darted around, searching for anything he could use. A shepherd's staff was leaning against a low fence, Simple, sturdy, and perfectly suited to his needs. He snatched it up, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it tightly, and crept closer to the men. One of the men took a threatening step toward the girls.

If I don't care who your father is, this well is for.

Our hurts, maybe you won't take one of ice payment for all the water you're stolen from us.

But before the men moved, Moses stepped out and behind the rocks, his voice cutting through the morning air like the crack of a whip.

Get out of here.

He swung the staff with all his might, striking the nearest man squarely on the head. The blow sent the shepherds sprawling, his body crumpling into the dust. The other two turned and lunged at Moses. The first man swung wildly, but Moses, guided by the instincts drilled into him by sebits training, dodged the clumsy strike. He planted his feet and jabbed the staff down, hooking one of the men's legs out from under him. The shepherd fell, cursing as he hid the ground. The third man drew a blade, slashing at Moses with quick, desperate strikes. Moses stepped back, narrowly avoiding the leaf ledge, then pivoted and brought the staff, crashing into the man's ribs. The shepherd doubled over, his knife clattering to the ground. Moses pounced, pinning them beneath him. His staff pressed hard against the shepherd's throat. How does it feel, Moses snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

How does it feel to be helpless?

The man's eyes bulged, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Moses's vision narrowed, the world reduced to the ragged breathing of the man beneath him and the furious beat of his own heart. The rage threatened to consume him, but then he caught sight of one of the women, her face pale with terror, Her eyes cut through the red haze in Moses's mind, pulling him back from the brink. With a shuddering breath, he released his grip. The shepherd scrambled away, coughing and clutching at his bruised throat. The three men fled. Moses watched them go, his chest heaving. As the adrenaline began to fade. He was left alone, lumped in the dirt, his head pounding from the exertion. The girls came over to him and helped him up. The one Moses perceived to be the oldest, attended to him, dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth and bringing him some water. Moses' head tilted back and forth. The sides of his eyes were becoming dark.

Hey, look at me, Are you okay?

Eh?

I'm Moses fell forward into her arms. He blushed, then leaned back to regain control. I'm fine, he managed to say the words, though he knew it was a lie. The world tilted around him, and he swayed.

You're not fine, zipper, fetch.

Father, No, don't don't trouble yourself here. Let me get some water for your flocks.

Moses took some war water and poured it them to the trough. The sheep came to graze, Moses patted them on the head, then fell to the ground. Moses tried to rise, but his legs betrayed him. The throbbing in his head intensified, and the world went black again. Moses awoke to the sound of softly clinking beads swaying in the breeze. He blinked, his senses returning slowly as he took in his surroundings. He was inside a tent, lying on blankets of wool and fur. The air was fragrant with the scent of burnt sage and herbal tea. Beside him, a pitcher of water and a small plate of cured meat lay waiting. Moses drank deeply, the cool water, easing the parched ache in his throat. He ate slowly, savoring every bite. As he looked down, he realized he was no longer wearing his tattered Egyptian tunic. Instead, he was clothed in a beige tunic of simple wool, with a sheepskin vest tied snugly across his chest. He was pulling himself up when the tent flap was thrown open and a large man burst in. Moses flinched instinctively, bracing himself, but the man's wide smile and booming laughter quickly put him at ease.

Ha ha ha ah, you're awake. Praise the gods. We feared the worst at first. The blisters on your feet tell a tale of wool. My friend. Where have you come from?

Uh? Uh, Well, that's a complicated question for me to answer.

Mm. Yes, And perhaps the better question is where are you going?

I'm not certain.

Well, if you don't know where you came from, and you don't know where you're going, and I suppose you're right where you.

Need to be here? And where is here? Exactly?

Why? The land of mountains, fields and mystery. Welcome my friend to Midian. It is not a place as much as it is a people.

Moses winced as he got to his feet, his body still weak, but the man caught him in a powerful embrace, wrapping him in a bear like hug and kissing his forehead in a gesture of unexpected tenderness.

I am Jethro, High Priest of Midian and the father of the lovely young ladies you saved. I am in your debt, my friend, as a midian night. I always pay my debts tenfold.

Come with me, jethrow led Moses out of the tent, and together they strolled through the camp. It was a simple place, filled with the bustle of daily life. Children ran between tents, laughing and playing games. Women sat in small circles, weaving baskets and sharing quiet conversation, while men hold in sacks of wool from the morning shearing. Moses found himself smiling at the simple harmony of it all, A far cry from the cold grandeur of thieves.

We are a nomadic people, hopping from pasture to pasture with our flocks. We take what we need from the land, thank it, and then move on to another plot. It's not what you're probably accustomed to being from Egypt, but I'm sure you'll find it to be a satisfying life.

How did you know I was from Egypt.

I am a nomad, not a hermit. We've had the displeasure of meeting Pharaoh's men before. But by the looks of your carved feet and shameful gaze, I take it you no longer belong to the people of the night.

I don't know who I belonged to.

Believe every man can choose who they belonged to. Who were born as, and who we become can be two entirely different people.

I don't know who I was born as, so how will I know if who I become is any different?

Ah, so you are a stranger to yourself, I see. I find the greatest way to understand who you are is by looking at your.

Reflection, like in a mirror.

No, not in glass, in the faces of those around you.

Look.

Moses followed Jethrow's gaze, observing the camp with new eyes. He saw joy in the way the children played, trust in the way women worked side by side, and camaraderie in the men's shared labor. There was a quiet, unspoken bond that connected them all. And understanding the transcending words.

I can see myself in all of them. The way I treat them reflects back in the way they treat me. My worth as a father is reflected in the eyes of affection, My lovely daughters give me. My abilities as a leader are reflected in the full bellies and teamwork of my people. Do you see they are my reflection? I am theirs, I see.

Moses thought back to the Egyptian he had killed, and the fear on the faces of the Hebrews who had witnessed his outburst. He saw his own anger and confusion mirrored in their eyes.

What is your name, my friend?

I am Moses.

You are welcome to remain here with us, Moses, Perhaps we can show you who you are.

Moses looked out over the camp, watching as life went on around him. For the first time, he felt the stirrings of something he had longed for, lost hope. He was not yet certain of who he was or where he was going, but for the first time in a long while, he felt he was on the path to finding out. That night, Moses sat alone by the fire. Flames danced in the darkness, crackling and hissing like serpents, their light casting long, flickering shadows across the encampment. The Medianites gathered in clusters, wrapped in the warmth of companionship, their faces glowing in the firelight. Children wide eyed with wonder, listened to Jethro's spin tails of old, of gods and giants, of lost kingdoms and wandering tribes. The men and women played instruments of bone and wood, their music mingling with the night air. Moses sat apart from the others, peeling the skin from an almond with the tip of his dagger. His eyes were distant, fixed on the flames, but seeing something far beyond them. The desert night was alive with the music of the Medianites, yet Moses felt like a ghost haunting the edges of their world. He was a stranger here among these simple, kind hearted people, still grappling with who he was and what he had left behind. Then she appeared beside him, the woman he had saved. Her hair was tightly braided back with beads that caught the firelight as they hung from her neck to her chest. She was a vision of grace and strength, different from the high born Egyptian women he had grown up around, yet just as striking. She carried herself with a confidence that spoke of a life spent under the open sky, and her hazel eyes met his with a steady, knowing gaze.

Thank you for helping me and my sisters. It's very brave of you.

Brave or stupid, they are often won.

In the scene, they shared a smile, The firelight danced in her eyes, and for a moment Moses felt his heart skip a beat. She was more than just her looks. There was a sharpness in her gaze.

Ugh, I'm Moses, I'm Supporah, the daughter of the high priest Omdian.

Yes, I've met your father. He's an interesting man.

He thinks we should get married as a reward for your chivalry.

Zipporah said the words suddenly, her expression teasing yet not entirely insincere.

What we just met?

I why so flustered Moses.

She leaned in closer, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

Do you not think I'm beautiful enough? Or is it that I'm so remarkable that I've merely taken your breath away?

No?

I mean yes, sir, But no, I.

Enough stammering. We will speak of marriage later.

Come dance with me.

She took his hand and led him toward the fire, her grip firm and unyielding. The tambourines shook, the drums thumped like a heartbeat, and Moses found himself drawn into the rhythm of the Medianites. Zipporah moved with an easy grace, her steps fluid and confident. The firelight illuminated her dark, smooth skin, Moses, though clumsy at first, did his best to keep up. She laughed at his missteps, and he found himself smiling despite his awkwardness, caught up in her spirit. As the night wore on, the music seemed to seep into his bones, and Moses began to find his footing. The two of them danced under the stars until the music faded, and all that remained was the soft crack of the air and the distant song of cricket.

Oh, oh, thank you for tonight zipperah. Oh, It's been a while since I've laughed so much.

My father says, laughter and music existed before language. He says, the first man, saying when he saw the first woman, and that's when words were first formed.

It seems I have much to learn from your father. I have much to learn about laughter and music, everything.

Really, where were you before this?

Moses?

Where have you come from?

I was a prince of Egypt, but not by birth, more by chance than anything.

There is no chance one does not simply become a prince by accident. Gods must have chosen you.

Well, if they chose me, then they've certainly rejected me.

Now, perhaps gods that chose you to be a prince also brought you here?

To what end? And which gods? The Midianite gods or the Egyptian ones? There are too many to count.

Aren't you Egyptian? Why not those gods?

No, no, no, Those gods ceased to love me the moment I left Egypt. You know I'm Hebrew by birth. They only have one god. They call him the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, God most High. I wonder what he's like.

A moment of silence settled between them as they both gazed up at the night sky. The stars above Median were clearer and more numerous than any Moses had seen before in Thieves, the torchlight and smoke had always veiled the heavens. Here under the wide desert sky, he felt a strange sense of peace. They bid each other good night, and Zipper made her way to her tent, but Moses remained under the stars, his gaze searching for something beyond their light. He felt a deep, unnamable longing, a yearning for something he could not quite define. His thoughts turned to his people. The Hebrews still enslaved, their lives crushed beneath the weight of Pharaoh's heel Rameses would be no more merciful than his father. Moses knew that well enough. The question gnawded him like a festering wound. Was it his responsibility to do something? Fear tightened its grip on Moses's heart, not just the fear of returning to Egypt and facing his past, but the fear of the burden that awaited him if he went back, If he chose to face what he had left behind. He knew he could not remain silent. He would have to act. But how he was a fugitive, a murderer, What power did he have? Time flowed differently in Median, like a slow moving river, unconcerned with the haste of the world beyond. Days slipped into weeks, and weeks into months, each one folding gently into the next. As Jethro had foreseen, Moses married Zipporah. They were wed under the stars, beside the flames, just as they had danced that first night. There was a simplicity to it, a purity that felt truer than all the grand ceremonies of thebes. Their love bore fruit, and soon Zipporah gave birth to a sun. Moses lifted the boy high into the air, the stars watching as witnesses, and declared, I will name you.

Ghoshop, for even though I live here, I'm still a sojourner, a stranger. I guess. I guess I've been a stranger all my life.

Moses began to peel back the layers of his identity like the skin of an almond, but he had yet to find his core. In the desert, he found refuge and peace, a sense of belonging that had eluded him for so long. Jethro made him a shepherd, and Zippora taught him the ways of the sheep. Together they wandered across valleys and canyons in search of new pastures. They spoke for hours under the open sky about life, love and leadership, about gods and men. For decades, Moses lived in the rhythm of media, singing songs, herding sheep, feeling the earth beneath his feet the sky above his head. He found so in the simplicity of the shepherd's life, but the past never truly left him. In the stillness of the night, as he lay among his flock, gazing up at the endless expanse of stars, his thoughts would drift back to Egypt, to the Hebrews, his kin still bound in chains, he wondered if he had made a mistake by leaving, if perhaps he had turned away from a calling he did not yet understand. The doubt gnawed at him, And in the silence beneath the Starlit sky, he would pray, not to the gods of Egypt, nor the gods of Median, but to the God of his forefathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. He would ask for a sign, for guidance, for a purpose, and as always, the desert woman would answer with nothing but silence.

Wow, what an incredible story. A simple act of hospitality at a well ties together lives in this grand story of the Chosen people. That is how God often works, isn't it moving in the mundane, turning the ordinary into the sacred? How often do we miss God in our everyday encounters, unaware of the destiny being written by our lives. In the quiet of Midyon, Moses found refuge. A fugitive shepherd. His life seemed to stretch before him in a slow, uneventful cadence, but his memories haunted him. Moses had tasted leadership in Egypt, and then he intervened to protect in Israelite from an Egyptian taskmaster. The very next day, he tried to mediate a quarrel between two Israelites, only to face their indication in rebuke, who appointed you as a prince and leader over us? He wasn't even a leader yet, but he was ready contested. Moses fled. His life was at risk. Midiam became his sanctuary, a place where his identity lay, hid him beneath the guise of an Egyptian man. Jethro's daughter spoke of him as such when he saved them from rough shepherds. Moses married Seppora, Jethro's daughter, and settled into the life of a shepherd, far removed from Pharaoh's grip and Israel suffering. But in the quiet of the desert, tending his flack, Moses had time to reflect. In the stillness of the desert nights, doubt crept in. Was he truly fit to lead? Could he really bear the weight of the Chosen people's suffering? The desert became a testing ground for Moses, a place where he wrestled with his inenterdeemon, his fears, his doubts, Moses's time in Mideon forced him to find within a strength and a courage that he didn't even know that he possessed. Insights from one of my dear teachers, Rabbi Jonathan Sachs of Blessed Memory, brings clarity to this struggle that was going on inside of Moses. Moses feared seeing the full picture, Revy Sack says the divine perspective because it might have robbed him of his humanity. To understand suffering might have led him to an acceptance of suffering, and Moses could never accept suffering for the Chosen People. Moses chose to remain human, to feel the pain of his people, to fight against injustice rather than understand it and make peace with it. This fear, this refusal to accept suffering to find Moses's leadership. His journey in Midian was not just about finding refuge. It was about him finding himself, finding the balance between justice and mercy, strength and compassion. Moses emerged from Midian not just as a shepherd of sheep, but as a shepherd of the Chosen People. To speak more on this passage is our dear friend, Bishop Paul, Your.

Thank you y'a elle can I begin but making the obvious statement. Moses is a deliverer. His own life actually started miraculously through deliverance when the midwives wouldn't deliver him into Pharaoh's hands, but he was delivered by his mother, by his sister, even by Pharaoh's daughter and the basket. Then he sees one day something happening. You see, his mother had nursed him for the first few years of his life, and she was giving him more than.

Milk.

She was actually being paid by Pharaoh to care for her own son, and she was nursing him on a sense of his truest Hebrew identity. So that one day when he's out in the community and he sees an Egyptian soldier harassing a Hebrew man, Moses might not have fully understood what he was failing, but something rose up in the man, and he stepped into that situation and he interrupted the assault, and he took the Egyptian soldier and killed him and set the Hebrew free. Well, that's a small taste great things to come. Why did he do this? Because he's a deliverer. Who he is, that's what he does. Well, word God out what Moses had done. He has to run for his life. He can't stay in Egypt, he can't remain with his family. He finally settles in the Midian desert, and he sits on a well, and these daughters of a Median priest bring their sheep to receive drink from a well.

But they are.

Harassed, like an Egyptian soldier, by the locals who come to stop them from feeding the sheep. And again something rises up in Moses. He's offended by what he sees happening to these defenseless women, and he steps up, and he steps in, and he chases, He chases the locals away and gives drink to the sheep of the Daughter's why because he's a deliverer? Who he is, it's what he does now. He might not have fully understood the assignment of God upon his life, or the anointing of God to fulfill that assignment. You know what teaches us something does in it. Timing can be everything. You can do the right thing at the wrong time, and it becomes the wrong thing.

Before we wrap up this exploration of Exodus two sixteen to twenty two, I want to explore one more verse that we find there. One more word actually a name. In verse twenty two, the Bible tells us that Moses named his firstborn son Gershom. In Hebrew, that name means a stranger. There The simple explanation of that name is that Moses was living in Midian, not his native land of Egypt, and so he felt like a stranger. But a great sage in Jewish tradition suggest something deeper. Perhaps Moses, even then in Midian, had a longing to be in constant communication with God. People on that high of a spiritual level sometimes feel like a stranger. They seek God they see that most people around them do not. If this is why Moses named his son Gershom, then each one of us who seeks God has something to learn from this. We seek God, but it's normal to sometimes feel like a stranger because our friends, maybe our family, our associates do not seek God the same way that we are. But we can take inspiration and a lesson from Moses, who, according to Jewish tradition, was the greatest of all prophets, who always in touch with God. Well we can learn from him is that each one of us can become like Moses as we seek God, even though we can sometimes feel alone. Like a stranger. We just need to continue to seek God and to find comfort in His embrace. Because remember, those who are truly one with God are never really strangers to anything. As the Chosen People, and we are one with the God, we have the best and most reliable and loving friend in the world.

You can listen to The Chosen People with the Isle Eckstein ad free by downloading and subscribing to the pray dot Com app today. This prey dog com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Katina, Max Bard, Zach Shellabaga and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of The Chosen People with Yile Eckstein, Edited by Alberto Avilla, narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwold, Sylvia Zaradoc and the opening prayer is voiced by John Moore. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith, written by Bree Rosalie and Aaron Salvato. Special thanks to Bishop Paul Lanier, Robin van Ettin, kayleb Burrows, Jocelyn Fuller, and the team at International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. You can hear more Prey dot com productions on the Prey dot com app, available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed The Chosen People with Yile Eckstein, please rate and leave a review.

The Chosen People with Yael Eckstein

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