Genesis 8:1-2
“And God remembered Noah, and every living thing, and all the cattle that was with him in the ark: and God made a wind to pass over the earth, and the waters assuaged;
The fountains also of the deep and the windows of heaven were stopped, and the rain from heaven was restrained;”
Forty days and forty nights,
the heavens wept, and the waters rose.
Endless rain, relentless storm—
a world submerged in sorrow.
But then, dawn broke on day 41.
The clouds began to part,
and the sun—hidden for so long—
pierced through with its golden light.
Its warmth kissed the earth,
its brilliance painted hope across the skies.
The floodwaters still whispered against the ark,
but the sun was shining.
There was hope again.
Forty days and forty nights,
Jesus wandered the wilderness,
hungry, weary, alone.
Temptation pressed against Him,
but then, day 41 arrived.
The wilderness bowed to refreshment,
and the struggle gave way to renewal.
I know the rain is pouring now,
and the thunder shouts its fury.
I know the night feels endless,
and the days bleed together in despair.
But don’t let go.
Perhaps you’ve lost count of the storm’s toll,
forgotten what day it is.
But hold fast—tomorrow may be day 41.
Tomorrow, the sun may rise,
pushing through the dark clouds of your sorrow.
Tomorrow, the rain may still,
the storm may quiet.
Day 41 will come.
The dawn will break.
And when it does,
it will remind you that even after the longest storm,
the light always returns.
Just hold on.
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