“Between ‘it shall come to pass’ and ‘it came to pass,’ stands God’s mercy.”¹
I’ve spent the past four weeks battling a relentless cough, sinus drainage, fuzzy brain, and exhaustion. This week, I finally surrendered and went to my physician, only to find my self-diagnosis was way off. My doctor said it was a sinus issue that I’d let wear me down. Isn’t it funny how surrendering for help can feel like both defeat and a win?
When I told one of my classes I would be absent the following day because I was going to go to the doctor, one young man shouted, “Thank Goodness!” My response was, “Surely I haven’t been that bad?” He said, “No, but you’re sick, and you need to go to a doctor.” Kids are funny for sure. If you want to know the truth, just ask them. Many teachers don’t share personal plans with students, but I try to build relationships through communication, and it turns out I’m pretty good at this talking thing. LOL!
I had another reason for finally seeking medical help: a church family trip. I bunked with my sister, niece, and seven-year-old great-niece. We drove to Kentucky and visited the Ark Encounter one day and the Creation Museum the next. This was my second trip to the Ark. My husband took me to see it two years ago at Christmas. It was cold, but thankfully not windy. If you’ve never seen the Ark, Christmas is definitely a beautiful time to experience it.
This last visit felt very much like what I imagine the actual flood to have been like because it came a monsoon. I told a friend of mine not to worry about us. We had made it to the ark, and it should be setting sail at any moment.
As we stood at the covered entrance debating the best time to dart into the rain, I noticed a stand nearby offering clear plastic umbrella bags. Inspiration struck—I grabbed a couple and, in a moment of desperate creativity, slipped them over my cloth shoes, hoping to keep them dry. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but at least it gave me a fighting chance against the puddles.
Great ideas sure can go south real quick. The distance between the ticket entrance and the actual Ark seemed to move further and further away with each soaking step I took. Halfway to the big boat, I surrendered again—removing water-filled bags from my shoes, now soaked to the bottom of my leggings. Once aboard the Ark, I spent the next few hours sloshing around in squishy, soggy shoes.
Both museums are truly remarkable, and despite having visited before, I would gladly return. When I first visited the Ark with Tim, I thought I had absorbed everything there was to learn. Yet this time, I noticed details I must have missed before—or perhaps they’ve just slipped into the ever-growing collection of misplaced memories in my mind. Getting older seems to make those lost files more common.
This time, as my niece Bridget and I walked through one of the exhibits, I came across this statement: “The Pre-Flood world was exceedingly wicked and deserved to be judged… does our sin-filled world deserve any less?” (displayed at the Ark Encounter exhibit).
Wow. If there were a man building an ark in my neighborhood today, would I give up everything, my job, my home, my everything, and get on his boat?
Another exhibit on the Ark that shook my core, more so this time, was the door. Not just a door but THE DOOR. This door started shaking me several weeks ago when the littles and I were reading about Noah in Sunday School Class. We were doing this in preparation for the upcoming trip. When I read, “And they that went in, went in male and female of all flesh, as God had commanded him: and the LORD shut him in” (Genesis 7:16).
Who shut the door? The Lord.
We also watched the Noah movie one evening at church as a church family. It was a dramatized version by the Ark Encounter. In the drama, Noah tried so hard to get people onto the ark, but their lives, jobs, and livelihoods were more important to them than the ark. On the day of the rain, people were pounding on the ark’s door, screaming for Noah to help; screaming for him to “just open the door.”
Noah couldn’t open the door. I told Tim on the way home, I am so glad God didn’t choose me to be Noah because I would have tried to open the door or windows or something to let the people in, and everyone would have perished. Plus, would I have obeyed Noah and built an ark as God said? I want to hope I would have, but I have no idea what my response would have been when the shoes were on my feet.
The door causes me panic because I know that one day “The Door” Jesus opened by dying a horrible way, for a horrible person like me, will be closed. Thankfully, for me, I’ll be on the other side of The Door because I believe in God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. I believe Jesus died a horrible death on a cross for the sins of ALL mankind, and I believe he rose on the third day to sit at the right hand of God the Father.
But many do not. There are many who will beat and pound on “The Door” one day that the Lord has closed, and none of us will be able to open it for those who chose other things.
This past Sunday was Palm Sunday. It’s recognized as the day Jesus was welcomed into Jerusalem. On that day, they waved palm branches and shouted, “Hosanna.” On one day, they praised Jesus in shouts of begging Him to save them, and just days later, they stood at His feet condemning Him to a cross.
God, I pray I would not have been one of the many who praised you one day and turned their back on You the next. Yet, I am. I turn my back and fall short of Your praises more often than not. I’m sorry I’m this way, and I wish I could fix it. However, I don’t have the power to fix it. All I can do is try again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, to serve you the best I can, because really, the only thing “between what I should do and what I have done… is God’s mercy.”¹
Thank You for the Cross. Thank You for rising. And, Thank You for saving me.
Happy Easter, Jesus.
¹ The Woman’s Study Bible, teaching notes on Amos 7:3 and 7:6 (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2017), 1284.
The Ark is amazing. So much information. And to realize that God shut the door. Wow!