Even in the Raging Storm, It Is Well for God’s Beloved
Raindrops — glistening tears from heaven’s throne — began to fall. Slow, but steady. The last of the animals entered the massive vessel. I imagine Noah prodding them with a staff, steering them to their stalls. As tufts of lamb’s wool brushed against his robe, did he gently caress the fleece and ponder the ways of God? Perhaps Noah looked about at the safe gathering of two kinds of every living creature on the earth and thought, “It is well.”
In my mind’s eye, I watched as Noah walked in a steady gait to the ark’s boarding ramp. His calloused right hand grasped the edge of gopherwood. Leaning on his staff with the other hand, Noah curled his neck, looked toward the heavens, and spoke, “Lord God Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. I trust You and I honor You with my obedience.”
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