Comfort never saves

“Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful.” — Proverbs 27:6

They rolled their eyes when he raised his voice.

They scoffed at the hammer in his hand and the sweat on his brow.

They called him judgmental, dramatic, unkind.

“Noah,” they sneered, “your message is too harsh, too offensive. Can’t you be more loving?”

But love built the ark.

It wasn’t judgment that measured the beams or laid the pitch, it was mercy, swinging for 120 years in obedience, while the sky was still clear and the ground still dry.

They didn’t understand that the most loving thing a man can do is sound the alarm before the storm. Noah wasn’t condemning them. He was pleading with them.

He wasn’t shouting to shame, he was shouting to save. And still, they covered their ears.

Sometimes truth feels cruel to those determined to drown in denial. Sometimes the most tender mercy sounds like a warning bell.

I’ve seen it.

I’ve been the one offended, too proud to admit I needed saving. And I’ve been the one bearing the message, heart aching,

as the ones I love laughed and turned away.

But what if love doesn’t always sound like lullabies and soft words?

What if sometimes it sounds like thunder,

like a voice crying out in the wilderness,

like a builder with blistered hands shouting,

“Come inside before the flood begins”?

I think of Jesus, how they were offended by Him, too. How they hated the Light because it revealed their darkness.

How they didn’t want a cross, they wanted comfort. But comfort never saves.

Only truth does.

Only repentance does.

Noah’s message wasn’t harsh. It was holy.

It was an invitation.

A door wide open, nailed together with grace.

The judgment was coming, yes.

But so was the ark.

So was salvation.

God, give me the courage to keep building.

To speak when it’s unpopular.

To love when it looks like warning.

To carry the weight of the message You’ve placed in me, even when it costs me.

Let me be willing to be misunderstood

if it means someone might step into the Ark before the door shuts.

And help me, too, to recognize Your mercy when it comes in the form of rebuke.

To run to the ark, not mock the messenger.

Because the flood always comes.

But so does the door.

And the door is still open.

Don’t waste another day.