Reflections Over the Face of the Deep

This morning I was reflecting on the story of Noah and the Ark, in particular, the point in the narrative where the 40 days and nights of relentless rain and storms had finally ended and Noah & Co. were adrift atop an endless sea.

I kinda picture Noah holed up in a corner of the ship miraculously not occupied by one of the "two by two's", carving into the gopher wood an account of the day's events. Day 1-40 would probably have read like a forecast from the Weather Channel in Seattle (but without the snazzy jazz music bed)...Rain, rain, more rain, and what? It's still raining.

But then there was Day 41: Stopped raining! Ready to step off this dingy and kiss the ground!

Not so soon! 150 days later the water finally receded enough that the ark could settle on top of a mountain. 40 days after that and Noah figures that he can send out a bird and see if it finds somewhere to land, but the poor little guy wears his wings out flying around to no avail. A week later. Take two. This time the dove returns with an olive branch. HOPE! Don't you think the ark was rockin that night! 'Nother week and the bird doesn't come back at all.

I haven't been able to get that little bird out of my head. After weathering the storms and all that rain. After flying, and flying, and flying, straining to see a landmark, a sign of life, any evidence that there was anything but this vast, lifeless ocean. After unrelenting pursuit of the promise that God would save and restore, renew and rebuild, reward and refresh, there it is. There it is. At last a little patch of dry ground, a place where it is safe to make a nest.

Maybe it's just that it's easy for me to identify with that bird. Finally the storms have ended and there is an expanse of blue sky where I can stretch my wings. But there is not yet a destination, not yet a sign of things to come, just my reflection in the deep blue below me, taunting with a pantomime of my movements as I peer into it, looking for a sign of life.

Who knows how long I must fly, how far I must travel until the waters recede. But they will. They will and they will reveal new mountains to climb, new lands to be traversed on the journey.

Who knows what epic adventures the future holds. But for now, I'm just a little bird in the big blue sky.

(Genesis 6-8 contains the story of Noah. Check it out)