God Said He would never Flood the World again

Yesterday at work we jokingly began referring to the apocalyptic Genesis account of Noah and the Ark, one of my personal favorite stories from when I was smaller. I loved the idea of being on a boat in the middle of a vast ocean with all of the world's animals. Although I think, had I been Noah and God hadn't been looking, some of those animals wouldn't have made it... i.e. cockroaches, New York's most popular insect.

So we were discussing how much flooding there was and someone mentioned that God made the rainbow in order to show his promise that he would never flood the world again. I said that I was pretty sure it said the entire world again, not pieces of the world like New Jersey and New Orleans at the same time. It was an excellently made point, if I say so myself and gave me reason to consider God's promises.

Imagine being on a cramped boat for forty days and nights while it rained and then afterwards while you waited for the floods to recede and a chance to get away from your family for just a few minutes of peace. You're sending out all these birds looking for signs of life and they aren't coming back, God's not really speaking to you for the time being, and WHAT are you doing with all the animal manure? Ah, the true questions we have for the Bible. None of this miracle stuff, I just want to know what they did with all the animal poop. And do you think they ate some of the animals? Not the two by two, but do you think Noah stored a few extra chickens or something on board? I would have.

At the end of all this, there is a new world and Noah is set upon it with all the animals and told to go forth and produce children. He is also told that God will never flood the whole world again. I can only imagine how he and his family looked after five weeks on a boat with no one but each other. It probably wasn't very far off from "Survivor." And he's left with no friends, no direction, just a colorful symbol that will one day be associated with homosexuality. And, as far as we can tell from reading the Bible God didn't flood the world again. He parted lakes, set things on fire and had people climb mountains and sacrifice their children for Him, but He didn't flood the world.

It does seem like it's possible. Looking out the window at the rain splattering the panes of glass and hearing about how Louisiana and Mississipi and Massachusetts and Connecticutt and let's not forget New Jersey are flooding. That's not even counting the rest of the continents who are suffering the same fate. I think about all those tribes who live along the Nile who rejoice when the water exceeds the banks because it means the harvest will be good, and wonder if we could explain that to Mercedes driving commuters from Hoboken. Doubt if they care about a harvest half a world over, but I was comforted by the idea that there is good to be found in all this rain.

On my end rain makes me want to stay inside and read and drink tea and sleep late and watch movies. I miss the college days when I would take the day off just because it rained or was too cold or too windy or I didn't get enough sleep because I stayed up late watching reruns of Punk'd. Now it doesn't matter what happened between five p.m. yesterday and nine a.m. today as long as I am on time for work and look presentably dressed. Rain in New York is truly a miserable experience for the most part, unless you get to go to sleep in it and can afford to take cabs whereever you go. There isn't enough soil to gather the extra water and it heads towards the drains so fast it clogs them, thus creating ponds you must leap over to cross Houston or Fifth Avenue.

There is also the sideways rain to take into account, as well as the fact that it is freezing up here already and snowing in some areas. I am scared of facing an entire New York winter. I've never even been here in January before, and while I've been here while it was cold, it was a brief time that turned into heading straight back to North Carolina where everything is centrally heated, and it's warm by late March. We also discussed how fall chill and spring chill were two completely different things. By springtime, you're so numb to the cold that fifty degrees makes you want to rip out a bathing suit, and in the fall it makes you want to curl up and hibernate.

I have to wonder if that was God's plan. For us to hibernate during particularly bad times of the year, instead of being forced to lie and say that yes we have the avian flu or pneumonia- again.