The darkness of my first night settles, but the pounding continues. I’ve heard constant pounding for so very long, more years than I can remember.
The pounding of the hammer has changed my body. My hands are thick with calluses, my skin darkened by the sun, and my arms more muscled than in my youth. The change would not have been so dramatic if I’d had more help. Though the work ended just over a week ago, I still hear that bang! bang! bang! that shakes and rattles even my bones.
Through the pounding of the hammer God spoke to me of a coming miraculous sign. I was uncertain, but when the animals approached I knew it was Him who spoke. Animals of every sort, more than I could count, more than I could describe came to me. And still the pounding. The pounding of hooves and feet, marching, clopping, banging.
Today the pounding continued, but not the banging of hammer against nail or hoof against floorboards. Today was the pounding of raindrops against this great vessel my sons and I have spent our lives building. Once my family entered, the hand of God closed the door behind us and the rains began pounding against the ark so hard and fast that the boat was lifted from the ground. It would have been amazing to see the work of my hands finally float, except for what came next.
After an hour or two, the pounding of rain was drown out by the pounding of fists. For decades I’d been warning everyone that He was going to judge the world for its sin. Awful, terrible things, many I’ve only heard about, but things so bad I can’t even mention. Still the warnings went unheard.
Knowing what was coming didn’t prepare me for hearing my friends and family, neighbors and strangers, screaming to be let into this ark of safety. First the voices were mostly friendly, then the banging and shouting turned angry, then panicked. Slowly, as the pounding rains raged harder and harder against the boat, the pounding of the fists and the damning voices vanished into silence. If only they’d listened. If only they had believed.
So here in my bed, with the dim light of a candle, the pounding of the winds and rains continue. God said this will last only 40 days and 40 nights. That means 39 to go. I have no idea what I’m going to find when this is over. I can’t begin to imagine, but I hope . . . no . . . I pray to the Just God of the universe, that one day the pounding will stop and I’ll find peace.
Then God remembered Noah, and every living thing, and all the animals that were with him in the ark (Genesis 8:1).