Advent: God With Us

Genesis 8:1-18 

But God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and all the domestic animals that were with him in the ark. And God made a wind blow over the earth, and the waters subsided; the fountains of the deep and the windows of the heavens were closed, the rain from the heavens was restrained, and the waters gradually receded from the earth. At the end of one hundred fifty days the waters had abated, and in the seventh month, on the seventeenth day of the month, the ark came to rest on the mountains of Ararat. The waters continued to abate until the tenth month; in the tenth month, on the first day of the month, the tops of the mountains appeared. 

At the end of forty days Noah opened the window of the ark that he had made and sent out the raven, and it went to and fro until the waters were dried up from the earth. Then he sent out the dove from him to see if the waters had subsided from the face of the ground, but the dove found no place to set its foot, and it returned to him to the ark, for the waters were still on the face of the whole earth. So he put out his hand and took it and brought it into the ark with him. He waited another seven days, and again he sent out the dove from the ark, and the dove came back to him in the evening, and there in its beak was a freshly plucked olive leaf; so Noah knew that the waters had subsided from the earth.  Then he waited another seven days and sent out the dove, and it did not return to him anymore.  

In the six hundred first year, in the first month, on the first day of the month, the waters were dried up from the earth, and Noah removed the covering of the ark and looked and saw that the face of the ground was drying.  In the second month, on the twenty-seventh day of the month, the earth was dry. Then God said to Noah,  “Go out of the ark, you and your wife and your sons and your sons’ wives with you. Bring out with you every living thing that is with you of all flesh—birds and animals and every creeping thing that creeps on the earth—so that they may abound on the earth and be fruitful and multiply on the earth.” So Noah went out with his sons and his wife and his sons’ wives. And every animal, every creeping thing, and every bird, everything that moves on the earth, went out of the ark by families. 

One aspect of the story in Genesis 8:1-19 resonates with me. It is true that this past summer my wife and I experienced a literal flood in our house caused by a major pipe leak that led to the need for extensive and expensive repairs while we lived elsewhere for two months. It is true that we have had a figurative flood of life experiences in the past year, from getting married, moving twice, changing states, selling one house, and purchasing another one, losing my father to heart attack, starting multiple business ventures, and expecting our first child (Simon) any day now. It is felt like the full catalogue of emotions. 

But it is not the Great Flood that resonates with me at the current juncture. I am focused on the dove searching for dry ground. 

In my devotional a year ago, I focused on my dad’s death, which occurred on 14 October 2021. I am writing this current devotional on the same day in 2022. Father’s Day in 2022 was a lot for me. It fell between the day I lost my father and the day I will become one. I sent out hope for dry ground; I knew it would appear eventually, but it had not yet at that time. 

As of this writing, Simon has not arrived (though as of your reading, he will have). He is coming any moment now. And my dad died a year ago. I feel like this weekend I am reviewing the entire catalogue of previous year’s emotions. 

I grew up going to many Alabama football games with my dad. He also took my family to Cooperstown when I was a kid to see the baseball Hall of Fame, and I named my first pet – a cat – after my favorite Braves player, Otis Nixon. 

I am a lifelong ‘Bama and Braves fan because of my dad. The last team my dad saw ‘Bama play was Texas A&M, and we lost. We barely beat A&M last week, and this week we play our most hated rival, Tennessee. We have beaten Tennessee 15 years in a row, but this week’s game is the biggest Third Saturday in October in a long time, with both teams in the top six and undefeated. The Braves are also battling it out against the Phillies in the NLDS this weekend.  

I keep thinking that I wish I could honor my dad, a year after his death, by planning to watch the Braves defend their World Series title and assess whether Alabama has the muster to make it 16 in a row against Tennessee. And maybe I will. But I do not know for sure, because Simon will come any moment now, and that – obviously – becomes the focus of my time and energy once it happens, even if my wife goes into labor while Alabama is playing. It is easy to think that I am betraying my dad by not doing these things. I did not even know as of yesterday whether I would be available to spend this evening with Mom and my brother’s family on the year anniversary of Dad’s death. 

I am tempted to think I should tell Dad that I am sorry if I end up not being able to enjoy the things in life that he taught me to enjoy, and that I shared with him so many times. I would want him to know that I have not forgotten him, that I still miss him, that I promise I am not neglecting the memory of him if it ends up being the case that I must divert my entire focus to my wife and Simon instead of celebrating his memory with my family and watching Alabama and the Braves. 

Of course, when I reflect on it a little more, I realize that my dad gave me no greater legacy than being an awesome father. More than the Alabama Crimson Tide or the Braves, he would consider Simon #1. Deeper reflection tells me exactly what he would want me to think. Demolishing Tennessee would be awesome, especially this weekend this year. The Braves advancing in the postseason would be incredible, especially this weekend this year. But that is not what he would be focusing on. Simon is coming. I am ready to follow in my dad’s footsteps by being a great father. The next time I dispatch the dove, my dad is going to send back an olive branch. The waters will subside soon, and we will welcome dry ground. 

Thanks, Father. 

Jacob Kendall

Jacob Kendall is from the Birmingham area, and now lives across the bay from Mobile, Alabama with his wife and son Simon. He has training in social work, public health, and gerontology from Tulane University and is currently an online M.Div. student at Mercer University. He has taught social work and global health at the undergraduate level for several years. His research is on aging in Malawi. Jacob is currently working on several business endeavors. His service The Wordsmith provides help in professional communication and writing, with the purpose of helping you get into grad school or to land that coveted job. He also is co-founder of an organization that provides grant winning and other services to nonprofits and co-founder of a small mental health practice in Georgia. Jacob has visited 25 countries, enjoys bird-watching, and plays various musical instruments.