Noah's Wife

For our Young Adults Worship Night coming up, we are focusing on some of the miracles within our everyday Bible stories. So often, we, as Christians, take for granted the amazing complexity of the miracles that God has preformed in our forefathers. My task is to reveal the supernatural phenomenon of Noah's flood through a perspective not often thought of - Noah's wife:


THE STORY OF NOAH’S ARK FROM HIS WIFE’S PERSPECTIVE

"For one hundred and twenty years we were scorned. Imagine! One hundred and twenty years! Aaah...it was the best of times, it was the worst of time. (pauses)

My poor husband couldn’t even walk to the market without mockery being hurled at him across the market square. “Hey, Noah! When’s this rainstorm supposed to be coming?” “What do you have there, Noah? More building supplies for your ark?” Still, my husband managed to hold his head high and bravely spoke of the Lord’s coming destruction.

My three sons? (sighs) Oh my poor children! There was a time at the beginning when all the neighbour kids would flock around them, interested in the “building project” that my boys’ father was constructing. It didn’t take long, though, until the children’s parents warned them to stay away from my sons and the monstrous shell of a boat that towered in our fields. Yet, as the years passed on, my sons clung to the promises of the rain and the revenge of our most holy God. I’m amazed, to this day, at the Lord’s goodness for keeping our sons faithful to Him.

As for me, well, there is nothing quite like the gossip of women! And oh, how it spreads! When Noah first started to build the ark, most of the women in my social circle just dismissed it as another “manly” building project. However, once the frame for the ark started to take shape, it threw a shadow over my friendships. I always knew when my family was being talked about, because as I would walk to the well each morning, the other women would stop to stare at me, whisper to each other, smirking as they quickly shuffled out of my way.

It was as if we had a disease! They were hard times, but times that definitely brought us closer together as a family, and closer to God. I smile now when I think of the way we boldly proclaimed the inevitable destruction that God was going to bring upon mankind. We had no shame.
No matter how hard and long we preached to our neighbours, nothing seemed to sink in. It was draining. There was nothing that we wanted more than for our former friends to believe that God’s punishment was coming!

It was an ordinary day when Noah and I awoke to the strangest of sounds. Imagine our disbelief when we looked out our window and saw animals of every kind, spreading out as far as the eye could see, all heading towards our boat. Imagine how it felt when the first rain drops started to fall! Up until that time, we never knew what rain was!

We were ecstatic! God was fulfilling His promise! And yet...I couldn’t help but feel sorrow wash over me as I thought of all our neighbours! Noah and I grew up with some of these people! For close to 600 years we had all toiled and worked the earth together...and now, their evilness had brought upon THIS. (sighs)

I can still hear the echoing thud of the ark’s door as it shut. The chaos of hungry animals and the pelting rain above us could not drown out the cries from outside the ark as the waters rose. What was even worse was the deafening silence after a mere hour of rainfall. I shudder to think of what it must have looked like beyond the sturdy walls of our ark.

It was over a year before we ever saw or walked upon dry ground again. My feet were wobbly as I stepped out of the ark, unsure of the muddy ground beneath my feet. We were exhausted. And yet, in that desolate landscape, all Noah could do was kiss the ground and sing praises to our God. We even erected an altar to thank our Lord for being faithful to us. Just when we were thinking that God could not provide us with any more miracles, we were dazzled by the most beautiful one of all!

The sky was awash with vivid reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues and violets that stretched from east to west. I remember looking at Noah and seeing the glow of this miracle reflected in his face. I recall kicking off my sandals, raising my arms as if to embrace the hues arched above me, and laughing. I twirled around, feeling the mud squish through my toes – thinking it was the most beautiful feeling I had ever felt. And there, on the top of that mountain where we rested, I fell to my knees and thanked God for His faithfulness and His breath-taking hope."

Bread of Perfection

The golden loaves glowed on my counter top. The comforting aroma of freshly baked bread saturated my kitchen. I couldn't help but feel a little proud as I stood back from the sweltering oven, hands on my hips, and admired my most recent culinary triumph.

The bread was still hot when I sliced thick slabs off, smothered in butter and raspberry jam. Perfection on my plate.

Before I took my first bite, I heard His voice.

"I am the bread of life." He whispered.

Thoughtfully, I chewed upon sustenance, both physical and spiritual:

John 6:48-51 "I am the bread of life. Your forefathers ate the manna in the desert, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven which a man may eat and not die. I am the living bread that comes down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. This bread is my flesh which I will give for the life of the world."

My forefathers and I are one and the same. So often, I am content to scrape an existence in the arid desert, comfortable with consuming heaps of manna. From my plate of hard, wafer-like morsels, I can barely lift my eyes to the heavens to taste the Living Bread, broken for me. Instead, I focus on finding, striving, inventing any little way that I can make the manna lying at my feet taste sweet. My efforts to satiate my gnawing hunger is in vain, and it isn't long before my hands grasp at those pieces of manna once again. I cling to those hardened crumbs, forgetful of their failure to sustain me. Oh, I am such a manna eater!

The slop of this world clings to my lips in the form of manna, yet the most beautiful invitation is extended to me, to those who echo the footsteps of the Israelite forefathers. If I stop for but a moment from my vain efforts to sweeten my life on my own, the smell of Perfect Risen Bread wafts down from Heaven and envelopes me.

The taste of manna lies heavy and dry within my being, and yet, I hunger for this Bread - this broken Bread that the very crumbs I am unworthy to eat. With each moment I spend breathing in the Holy Sustenance, I experience the Life living within me. Paltry and measly is the plate of manna that I had been "feasting" upon before. Any traces of my desert fare, I wipe away.

Before me, the table is set. With His nail-printed palms spread, the Inviter entreats me to His simple banquet. With those same mangled hands, He breaks the Living Bread: "Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good."

Faithfulness Shines Through My Window

It's the sacred time between inky blackness and muted morning. Quietness shrouds the house. The hustle and bustle of breakfast and getting J out the door for work has lulled. In the chilly morning air, I've waved from the door, watching J's car slowly pull out of the drive. I follow with my eyes until I can't see his car anymore, only the pools of red reflecting on the pavement as he brakes for the stoplight. And then he's gone. Quietly, I close the door.

The remnants of a busy morning are scattered. Dishes in the sink, J's towel slung lazily over the bathroom door, the bed unmade. I close my eyes to the clutter and head to the living room.

It's always the same corner of the couch each morning. I wrap my hands around a steaming mug of coffee, bundled beneath a cozy afghan. Here, I wait. I listen. For Him.

The view out my window shows fog pulling its whispery fingers away from rooftops. The murky gray and blue shadows blend into blushed yellows and pinks. There is no shadow of turning with Thee. Each morning the sunrise is different. But each morning, it's a gift from Him that I see unfolded through panes of glass.

Spoken words flow as I pour out my full heart to my Lord, my Renewer of Every Morning. Morning by morning, new mercies I see!

From His Love Letter, I read - His voice reverberating through my fingertips, my mind as I caress each word. As the daylight grows stronger, I gently close His Letter, nurturing His truths in my heart. Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow!

I breathe in the stillness before the routine of my day sets in. Thank You, O God my Father! Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me!

Now - I am ready.

1) Abide

Abide. What do you think of when you hear that word? I looked up the definition and discovered it means "to remain in one place; to continue to be sure or firm; to dwell or sojourn." 

As a small group leader for YACC (Young Adults College and Careers) at our church, we are undergoing a study called "Abide," where we learn to abide in God and in the time that we spend with Him. If I was to share my opinion with you about personal time with God, I would likely tell you that it's important - it's something that should be done.

I'm a big list person. Every morning I start off my day with writing a list of things to accomplish by the time the sun goes down. Always at the top of my list, I write down: 1) Devotions. And, typically, about half an hour later, I will take up that list and put a big, black line through the word "Devotions," breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that "phew! I got that out of the way!", and then continue on with my day.

Since when did my worship with God become a 30 minute time slot that I needed to put a harsh, angry scratch through? It's like I set an egg timer and as soon as the bell would ring, I would stuff our omnipresent God back into His box, only to allow Him out the next day for His daily scheduled appointment. "To dwell or sojourn" has had no place in my devotional walk.

I looked up the antonyms of "abide" and was shocked at what I found: "depart, migrate, leave, reject, resist, quit, hurry, move..." And while those words may seem a bit drastic, allow the reality of them to sink in. Up until now, every time I closed my Bible up, I would migrate to the next thing on my list, depart and hurry onto other more pressing matters.

God, teach me to abide. Slow me down so that I allow my thoughts to dwell and sojourn, to remain in one place, to continue to be sure and firm on You. Change my daily list to read: 1) Abide. And let me not put a line through it. Instead, grant me the perseverance to never fully accomplish or finish abiding in You.