Hello, friend. I hope you’re enjoying a few restful days as this year comes to an end. I hope you’re reflecting on all the blessings in your life the past twelve months. Or perhaps, for you, this year was challenging and you’re glad to see it go, ready for a fresh start. Either way, there’s something refreshing and exciting about a new year, isn’t there?
Noah knew what it was like to wait desperately for a sign of a new beginning. For forty days it rained. For months he and his family floated in the ark, eating the same food, smelling the same smells, and looking at the same faces. After a certain point you run out of things to say to each other. You even begin to run low on hope. Can God re-create this world? Is he able to start over? Can he, and we, begin again?
When the boat finally stopped rocking, Noah sent a raven on a scouting mission; it never returned. He sent a dove. It came back shivering and spent, having found no place to roost. He tried again. He pulled a dove out of the bowels of the ark and ascended the ladder. The morning sun caused them both to squint. With a prayer he let it go and watching until the bird was bot bigger than a speck.
All day he looked for the dove’s return. In between chores he opened the hatch and searched. You know the feeling. You have stood where Noah stood. You’ve known your share of floods. Flooded by sorrow at the cemetery, anger at the disability in your body, fear of the uncertainty of a pandemic. You’ve seen the floodwater rise, and you’ve likely seen the sun set on your hopes and dreams as well. You’ve been on Noah’s boat.
And you’ve needed what Noah needed; you’ve needed hope. Hope doesn’t promise an instant solution but rather the possibility of an eventual one. Sometimes all we need is a little hope.
That’s all Noah needed. And that’s what Noah received. Genesis 8:11: “When the dove returned to him in the evening, there in its beak was a freshly plucked olive leaf!”
An olive leaf. Noah would have been happy to have the bird—but to have the leaf! This leaf was more than foliage; this was promise. The bird brought more than a piece of a tree; it brought hope. For isn’t that what hope is? Hope is an olive leaf—evidence of dry land after a flood.
Are you in need of some hope? Could you use a fresh start? A redo? At some point in life we all could. The oh-so-welcome news of Scripture is this: God is a God of fresh starts. He is the author of the new chapter, the architect of the new design, the voice behind the new song.
God knows the way forward. No matter what kind of disappointment or grief or trouble or heartache you’ve encountered, God offers an opportunity to begin again. In his plan prodigals get a new robe, the weary find new strength, and the lonely find a friend.
“Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31 NKJV)
Your current circumstances will not get the final say in your life.
To all the Noahs of the world, to all who search the horizon for a glimpse of hope, God proclaims, “Yes!” And he comes. He comes as a dove. He comes bearing fruit from a distant land, from our future home. He comes with a leaf of promise that he can make all things new.
© Max Lucado
