Reaching this age used to be embarrassing. At least that's how adults seemed to celebrate turning forty. I'd like to think I witnessed in them some kind of maturing into humility. It felt more like fatalism. Be sure, I've got the wrinkles and grays and "such" but those changes chisel away at pride in a different way. They don't usually leave one grateful or in wonder.
One way I've celebrated reaching forty is recognizing it's come at this other juncture in my life - during a sabbatical and transition in work. I get to enjoy all the changes, all together. No sarcasm. In this time of rest, I get to remember how truly abundant my life has been, and becoming forty becomes an honor. I'm also left deeply grateful when I remember I cannot give this life nor take it away. . . .
Which brings me to Noah. And wonder. God decides he'll do away with an overwhelming majority of his own creation. And Noah? He gets to ride out the catastrophe in a boat. Why? He walked with God. Go back about 500 years, when Noah is given his name, which means he will comfort. Sure enough, he was found to be a comfort: to the grieving heart of God.
Can we imagine it? The One who can and did release all the waters of existence to destroy mankind: could he have found rest in one man? The waters recede, life starts new. God finds pleasure in Noah once more and decides to make a covenant with all people, for all time, declaring:
“As long as the earth endures,
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
summer and winter,
day and night
will never cease.”
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
summer and winter,
day and night
will never cease.”
This poem could be about life, about the ark and flood, or any time, any man. It's also about me and my forty.
forty days
forty nights
forty years
forty years
forty gifts
one today
for every day
forever rain pouring down
pouring out pouring in
from the depths bursting forth opened gates
flooding up to the heights lifted high
on we walk with our God
favor found above the ground
