"Not my own" Those words jumped at me as the young man pronounced them as he led prayers at one of our intercessory meetings. The context, of course, was the story of the two women who approached the king to help determine whose baby was the living one.

I was drawn into the discourse, and the more I studied, the more I saw that the question was an identity issue. The object was a baby, and transposed to our world can be a vision, a destiny, a purpose, and so on. Both parties were blessed with gifts to be nurtured. They received blessings that should define or, at the very least, affect their future. They each recognized and owned their gifts. The journey had been a while, all nine months, all the time spent nurturing the dream, which they were sure was God-breathed.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,

before you were born I set you apart;

I appointed you as a prophet to the nations. Jeremiah 1:5

The two women in our story came before the king because they had a problem beyond them. They reported that as they were carrying out their assignments of looking after the babies, vision entrusted to their care, nature took its toll on the body, life happened, and both women slept, albeit with the gifts beside them. Night came, and one rested on her heritage, and the other was though careful not to trample on the tender shoot but careless enough not to notice when there was an exchange of identities. The strange things that occur under cover of the night. 

A dispute ensued, and each laid claim on the living child so much they needed higher power and authority higher to help resolve the matter. Wait, did they not know the details of their assignment? How is it that a mother cannot distinguish her baby from another? They approached King Solomon, who a while before had asked God for wisdom to rule the people right, in the counsel of God. This dispute was the test he needed to see if he truly got his request granted.