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On Obedience and Grace
It had been a beautiful evening. We had taken a family walk on the beach, watched the kids play in the sand, and stared in awe at the ocean. Dusk was settling in gently, and we were going to prepare for bed when Levi asked if he could swim before we put on his jammies. The pool was particularly alluring in the waning light, and we smiled and agreed and stripped the children down, allowing them to wade in the baby pool, an eighteen-inch deep section separated from the main pool by a small wall. Since we were only going to let them in a few minutes, we didn’t insist…
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God loved Noah. Period.
“Are you kidding me?” My two year old turned and looked at me, wondering why I had stopped my usual story-telling cadence. “Read, Mommy,” he said. I couldn’t. The colors were bright. The illustrations cute. The story, an ancient one, and entirely familiar. I still am not sure why so many Christians are devoted to telling young ones the record of the annihilation of the earth as a happy story about animals, though I’d come to accept it, for better or for worse. But this, I could not accept. At the bottom of the page in a book about Noah read these words: “God loved Noah because he was good.” Maybe…
