Thursday, April 26, 2012

waiting on the dove

and the waters prevailed upon the earth a hundred an hundred and fifty days. (gen. 7: 24) 

after the end of the hundred and fifty days the waters were abated. and the ark rested in the seventh month, on the seventeenth day of the month, upon the mountains of ararat. and the waters decreased continually until the tenth month: in the tenth month, on the first day of the month, were the tops of the mountains seen. (gen. 8: 3 - 5) 

i read this yesterday and stopped in my tracks. as i dove into the story of noah, i realized something i'd never before understood. 

after the rain stopped, the waters still rose.

there were still oceans of fury and seas of torrent. it was 150 days before they stopped and the ark came to a rest. before the jostling and rolling and slamming against rocks came to an end. all this time, i thought it was only forty days. not that that's any better. and even then, even when the sun peeked its meager head forward as if asking, is it okay now? can i come out?, all was not safe. there was another period of waiting. of sending a dove back and forth, back and forth, until one day he didn't come back and that's when they knew. the gate could be opened and they could walk on the dry land.

sometimes the hurts don't come in thunderstorms. they don't always wash over you and threaten to drown you in their weight. sometimes, they just toss you around a bit. a snap from a co-worker. a plan changed unexpectedly. a phone call that leaves you nervous and worried. yes, the waters often rise even when the rain has stopped. and what's hard is that sometimes its those little waves that hurt the most. those little nags that weave their way into your life without your consent.

my sweet nanno is still not home from the hospital. there are bills to pay and my cherry red desk isn't making them any prettier. i haven't had a deep sleep in days and my nights have been spent twisting and turning between rest and  prayer.

but there's a morning, too. if we just wait for the dove. the mountains have been there all along. we'll see their tops soon.


Meagan :: Mo Pie, Please said...

You really know how to put things in perspective. What a great lesson for us all - but especially for patience. Here's hoping Nanno comes home soon. <3

Tiffany said...

So true, Courtney! I'll be praying for your Nano and your family.


chambanachik said...

This is so beautiful, and I had never thought of it that way. Needed to hear this, especially on this morning. I hope you see the tops soon, dear.

kate said...

such an amazing view of the story we all know so well. i will be praying for some peace and rest for your heart as well as for your nanno. everything is a season and just imagine how beautiful everything was when noah finally made his way out of that ark. keep your chin up gorgeous <3

Michelle said...

Oh man, this completely resonated with me. I feel like it's been those little waves I've been dealing with too. Thank you, for this!

wildchild said...

oh, sweet girl, i'm praying for you and your family. this is such a beautiful post though: beautiful words and such a beautiful way of looking at that story. i hope your morning comes soon.

ash said...

there is such truth in this. especially when it comes to the waiting, it can be a trial unto itself. but the good news is, the tops will appear. we serve a faithful God.

praying for refreshment & joy for you, dear. ♥

Meghan said...

thank you Courtney. I totally get this. Sending you warms thoughts.

Jessica Miller said...

Thank you so much for those words of encouragement and perspective. They were much needed for my day.

Tina said...

beautiful words as always :)
i hope your nanno gets well soon.

AVY said...

I hope everything works out in the end.

/ Avy

cheap gothic victorian dresses said...

It's so beautiful!Hope your nanno will get well!

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