When the firstborn dies.

Everything Changes When a Firstborn Dies.

Today, I found myself reflecting on ancient Egypt—specifically, during the reign of the Pharaoh who didn’t know Joseph (Exodus 1:8). It was a time of great power, but also of great sorrow, especially when things took a tragic turn. Now, you might know the story, but let's revisit it a bit.

Joseph, the shepherd boy and his father’s favorite, found himself in a bit of a pickle. His brothers, tired of his dreams and his fancy coat, sold him off to some merchants. These merchants then sold Joseph as a slave in Egypt. Fast forward a few years, and our boy Joseph had climbed the ranks in Egypt, from slave to leader. He was well-known, respected, and even had a family. Then, a severe drought struck, and Egypt, under Joseph’s brilliant management, became the region’s breadbasket. It’s said that the grain stores were so full that they stopped keeping records (Genesis 41:49). This abundance attracted people from all over, including Joseph’s own family, who eventually settled in Goshen—what is today known as Tell El-Dab'a in Egypt. These were the Israelites.

But after Joseph passed away, things went south for the Israelites who stayed behind after the famine instead of returning to their homeland. They found themselves increasingly oppressed, sidelined, and eventually enslaved in Egypt. The Egyptians’ end game seemed clear: crush their spirits and make them forget who they were. But this didn’t go unnoticed by God.

Enter Moses, the reluctant leader and one-time water boy. Through him, God made it clear that He had seen their suffering and was ready to deliver them (Exodus 3:7-10). What followed was Moses' epic return to Egypt, where he became the advocate for the Israelites. The ensuing drama was nothing short of cinematic, with God unleashing ten plagues upon the Egyptians to convince Pharaoh to let His people go. The final plague, however, was the deadliest: the death of every firstborn in Egypt (Exodus 12:29-30). This was the moment that broke Pharaoh’s resolve.

This brings me to why I’m writing this. Imagine an entire community, where every household loses a firstborn in one night. Normally, when death strikes, it's one household among many, and the community rallies around to offer comfort. But in this case, there was no one left to offer solace—everyone was mourning. The Bible doesn’t even mention how the firstborns were buried; the grief was likely too overwhelming for details (Exodus 12:30).

I'm not a firstborn, but I can only imagine what this would mean in any home. The firstborn is often a pillar in the family, especially when the parents are no longer able to lead. They are the pride of their parents, the first fruit of their union. To lose a firstborn is to lose more than just a person; it’s the loss of leadership, mentorship, and in some cases, the emotional foundation of the family.

Now, I may not be a firstborn, but the way Pharaoh gave up after this final blow gives me a glimpse of how significant the role of a firstborn is, even if they're still babies. If you’re a firstborn reading this, know that you’re vital to your family, a small nation of sorts. Lead with wisdom, stay strong, and be the best leader you can be.

May God bless you and grant you the wisdom needed for your role as a firstborn.