The Days of Noah

* First Published October 2020, December 2020, and March 2021 in Christian Living Magazine

A note from the author: The Days of Noah is a three-part fictional work based on biblical truth. Every effort has been made to stay within the confines of Scripture while exercising creative liberty to bring this time in human history to life. While the Bible tells us very little about this era, we can piece together a vibrant picture from what we know of the nature of man and of God as is told throughout Scripture. My hope is that you’ll be inspired to seek out the truth for yourself and see the ways our current times parallel the time of the Flood just as Jesus predicted in Matthew 24. 

*** 

“Then the LORD saw that the wickedness of man was great on the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually…But Noah found favor in the eyes of the LORD. Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his time; Noah walked with God. 

Now the earth was corrupt in the sight of God, and the earth was filled with violence. 

Then God said to Noah, ‘The end of all flesh has come before Me; for the earth is filled with violence because of them; and behold, I am about to destroy them with the earth. Make for yourself an ark…’ Thus Noah did; according to all that God had commanded him, so he did.” 

Part One

Two hooded figures stood in the shadows and waited. Their eyes were sharp, the blades hooked into their belts sharper; their minds quick, the feet that could scurry them away even quicker. 

Clumsy footsteps sounded down the dark, quiet street, uneven and faltering. One figure raised a hand in the air and held it. The steps grew louder and the hand sliced downward. In a flash they surrounded the man, too drunk to do much more than widen his eyes and swing his fists ineffectually. He was knocked unconscious and drug back into the alley, where they stripped him of his money belt and cloak. A near full wineskin was held up victoriously before the figures ran back further into the shadows and around a corner. 

Zahara breathed a sigh of relief as they exited the alley and onto a brightly lit street; she hated the dark. A man bumped into her as she stopped to pull the hood of her cloak from around her face. She cursed at his retreating back, accentuating the nouns with hair-raising adjectives when he waved an obscene gesture. She turned back to her sister, “Please tell me we have enough for bread. I’m starving.” 

Magara stopped beneath a street lamp to look through the pouch. A breeze kicked up, flickering the flame above them, shadow and light dancing across Magara’s face, accentuating her frown. She threw the belt down in frustration. “Nothing.” 

Zahara kicked at the dirt and leaned against a stone wall behind her. So far the city of Enoch – the city that beckoned to them through their years of wandering – held nothing but cold disappointment. Her stomach gnawed at her, making her feel hollow of heart and spirit, as well as food. Seeking distraction, she focused on the temple, looking to resurrect the awe she felt when she first saw it hours ago. 

Built by the son of Cain to honor the goddess of grain, it was the largest temple known to man. With its sharp angles, intricately carved pillars, and high stone steps leading to the great goddess, it seemed to reach the heavens. The goddess herself was carved of white marble. She sat, legs crossed, one hand outstretched to receive sacrifices, the other raised high. Snakes, the symbol of wisdom and power, encircled her head and twisted around her torso. Forged from gold, the diamond patterns along their backs trimmed in emeralds, eyes made of rubies, they sparkled in the evening lamplight, the torches carried by the priests guiding worshipers up the steps giving life to the cold, stone eyes of the goddess. Yet, the eyes were just that – cold stone. Not a flicker of hope or encouragement for the weary traveler. 

A sharp whistle caught Zahara’s attention and she met Magara’s eyes just as a man with a strong stride turned the corner. He was simply dressed, but unlike the drunk in the alley, Zahara could see what Magara already had – a full money belt tied at his waist. She nodded as Magara sauntered into his path. 

“Stranger, you look like a man that could help me,” she said. Zahara only caught fragments of the conversation as she wove through the throng of people on the street to circle around. 

The man spoke, his voice gravelly, and Magara responded, the seductive tone clear, although the breeze grabbed their words from Zahara’s hearing. She drew close enough to slip a hand through the opening of the man’s cloak opposite from where his attention was fixed on her sister. Her fingers closed over the belt, lifting it carefully. Before she could retreat, Zahara’s wrist was caught in a strong, calloused hand, the heavy money belt dangling from her fingers. 

“I believe that’s mine.” He took the pouch before he released Zahara’s hand. Hungry and embarrassed, she shoved him hard in frustration. The man gave a huff of shocked laughter and held up his hands. 

“You seek to deceive me and steal my money and yet you shove me?” 

Magara placed herself between them. “You’ll have to excuse my sister. We’ve been on a long journey, denying ourselves every pleasure to arrive in the great city of Enoch during the Festival of the Seed. But,” she stepped closer, softening her tone, and reaching to run a finger down his chin, “for a price, we could both be happy.” 

A rumble echoed around them and only then did Zahara notice that a crowd had circled around to watch the exchange. At Magara’s suggestion, ribald suggestions flew between the spectators. 

A muscle moved in the man’s jaw and he looked past Magara to Zahara. She had no interest in what her sister was promising, but knew it would never come to that. It was a ploy to get the man alone. Then they could put their blades to good use and be done with it. Zahara raised her chin to meet the man’s gaze, noticing a warmth in his hazel eyes that she’d never seen in anyone before. It unnerved her and she dropped her gaze, convinced it was her hunger – not intimidation – that made her knees tremble. She crossed her arms over her growling stomach and met his gaze again when he spoke in a low rumble. 

“Not interested. But here you go,” he held up the leather bag between two fingers before flicking it to Zahara. 

Zahara caught it, staring at him in amazement. The crowd grew louder, some booing, others calling out more obscene suggestions. She barely heard the man’s last words before he turned away. “If you want to know how to find lasting sustenance – and a job with good pay – you’ll know where to find me.” He gestured to the crowd that clearly knew him before turning to walk down the street. 

Men mocked and called out as he moved past them. 

“Come on, Shem! Don’t you want to tell them about that ark your father is building?” 

“Why don’t you tell them about the flood that’s coming?” 

“Don’t you want to save them? Shem!” 

“Shem! The Festival begins – you could contribute to society for once.” 

Zahara and Magara stood bewildered as the insults grew louder. They spit at him, then followed throwing fruit and vegetables – even dung left in the street – at his retreating back. He continued his slow and steady stride, ducking his head slightly to avoid the assault. 

The crowd eventually dispersed, leaving the sisters to look into the bag on their own. “There’s enough silver here for ten meals!” Magara gasped. Zahara furrowed her brow and reached into the bag, pulling out a scroll tucked between the coins. She unrolled it and scanned the contents: a drawing of a large building, measurements and figures, a list of building supplies. Along the edge, etched in small letters she read, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…” 

Zahara looked for Shem again, but he had turned off of the main road. 

*** 

Shem followed the path that he knew by heart, pulse pounding in his ears, unable to concentrate. It wasn’t often that he left the valley where his people had lived for generations. Yet it wasn’t the three-day journey for supplies that had unnerved him, nor the reaction of the people. He was used to that. 

It was looking into the eyes of those that, after nearly one hundred years of his father Noah’s warnings, still denied the wrath that was coming. The closer the ark came to completion, the more the household of Noah could feel the heaviness of what was to come. And the more the people around them sunk deeper into wickedness. 

Shem’s family walked a precarious line of hope for a new earth, and despair that no one would be spared unless they repented. 

He was nearly to the valley when the low rumble began. Distant shouts and screams echoed from the city, slicing through his thoughts, turning his blood to ice. The ground vibrated beneath his feet and he turned back, knowing that until God Himself poured out His wrath, Shem could not turn his back on people in need. 

Especially in the destructive wake of a brontosaurus stampede. 

Part Two

Sweat dripped from Shem’s forehead, stinging his eyes. He paused to rub his face against one shoulder before lifting another chunk of stone from the rubble beneath his feet. Exhaustion pulled at him and the next rock slipped from his numb fingers, clattering down the pile. The muffled voice pleading for help from under the pile was growing faint and chaos all around him had swelled to a fever pitch. 

More destructive than the stampede were those clambering in and out of shops, taking what they could, fighting one another for anything of value. A woman darted by, an assortment of valuables in her arms. A man grabbed her hair from behind and she grabbed a chunk of stone from the pile and turned to slam it against the man’s face. He lost his grip on her tunic as he fell back. She fled, laughing. 

Despair burned through Shem. 

Beneath the next stone, he saw a small fist. Adrenaline surged and Shem called out to his brother Japheth. Together they pulled a small woman from the rubble. Her cloak was torn and covered in dust. Tangled black hair veiled her face and neck. 

Shem’s attention was pulled away as a mob began to form down the street. 

“We need to get her out of here.” 

The woman groaned in pain as they lifted her. Dark eyes rolled back in her head and she went still. Together they carried her down the street. Their father Noah and brother Ham waited near the edge of the city. 

“We couldn’t get to anyone else,” Noah said. 

It wasn’t until they had brought the woman into the main house and settled her on a mat near the stove that Shem realized she was one of the women that had tried to rob him. 

*** 

Light and shadow danced behind Zahara’s closed eyelids. She began to open them only to slam them shut against the bright sunshine. 

Then she remembered – the loud roar as the brontosauruses rushed through the city. Her sister Magara pulling at her, but Zahara dropping to the ground in fear, scrambling back against a shop wall. Magara left her, disappearing around a corner just as the herd thundered up the street. One slammed into the corner of the building and a wall of stones fell on top of Zahara before she could flee. As sounds of chaos erupted all over and hope began to fade, light penetrated her prison and a hand reached down to save her. 

Zahara tried opening her eyes again, slowly adjusting to the sunlight that filtered in from a window. She laid in the corner of a large room near a weaver’s loom. Shelves lined one wall, filled with different sizes of pottery. In the opposite corner an older woman was seated at a potter’s wheel. Stone ground against stone as she turned a jar on the wheel, humming to herself. She exuded a peace Zahara had never known. She watched, unnoticed as the woman formed the clay into a jar. 

When the woman was finished, she turned the wheel again, hands running over the outside. She paused, a frown pulling at her lips. Without warning, she mashed the creation back to a shapeless lump of clay. Zahara gasped and the woman looked up. A smile broke over her face and she stood, wiping her hands on a cloth. 

“It’s so good to see you awake. We’ve been praying…” She stood and ladled soup from a pot perched on the edge of the stove’s opening into a bowl and brought it to Zahara. 

“I’m Emzara. Can you can drink some of this soup?” She set the bowl on a small table nearby and reached to help Zahara move into a sitting position. Zahara was sore all over, but her stomach cramped as the tantalizing aroma of the broth wafted on the air. 

“Let’s start with just a little bit, okay? You’ve certainly been through something. God must have been watching over you.” 

Emzara lifted the edge of the bowl to Zahara’s mouth. 

“Why?” Zahara finally whispered, once she’d eaten what she could. 

Emzara wrinkled her forehead. “Why, what?” 

“Why did you destroy it?” 

Emzara only smiled and helped Zahara lie back down. “It spoiled in my hand. I’ll remake it into another.” 

Puzzled, Zahara fell back to sleep. For the next few days each time she awoke, Emzara or one of the other women in the home would bring her water or soup. She began to stay awake longer, watching the family move throughout their strange routines. 

They spoke of food storage, animal care, and more that she couldn’t understand. Such an odd family. She’d never known anyone like them. From the way they behaved, always a basket to weave, pitch to mix, herbs to dry, and scrolls to consult, it was clear they were working on something. They repeatedly spoke of an “ark.” 

Most intriguing was their nightly routine. They sat together each evening after dinner while Noah read to them from various scrolls before they prayed together. For peace, for the repentance of the people of earth, for stamina and direction as they built the ark. 

Ten days after the stampede, after Japheth’s wife Adah had brought Zahara her portion of the meal, she finally asked the questions that had plagued her for days: what they were reading, who they were praying to, and, most importantly, what was the ark they spoke of? All eyes turned to Noah. A warm smile lit his eyes and he came close to sit near her and began to recite the words she had read on Shem’s scroll before the stampede. 

“We read the account of creation as told by Adam. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth, and all that roam on the land and in the sea. Everything that has been made was by Him and for Him. That is who we pray to – the One true God. He formed Adam – the first man –  from the dust and breathed life into him; then fashioned Eve – his wife – from Adam’s rib. God made them in His image…” 

Zahara listened as Noah spoke of Adam and Eve living in fellowship with God, before they sinned and were separated from Him. He spoke of God’s promise of a future man to crush the head of the serpent who had deceived Eve, and of the difficulty that followed them outside of the garden. Their sin had spread to taint the earth; even animals had grown violent as they had seen just days ago with the stampede. 

“Though the world is filled with sin, some have remained righteous. My ancestor, Enoch, walked with God and didn’t taste death because the Lord took him. Years ago, the Lord told me He is sending a flood to cleanse the earth and make it new. He instructed me to build an ark so that I, my sons and our wives would be saved from the wrath to come. We’ve spent nearly one hundred years devoting our lives to this work.” 

Zahara looked to Emzara. “You believed him?” 

“What Noah didn’t tell you is that when the Lord spoke to him, we had been married many years and had no children, yet the Lord spoke of sons. Soon after this, Japheth was born, my first confirmation that it was true. I know it’s hard to take in; even harder to believe. God is the Potter, the Creator of all things. By His grace, He’s not just destroying it all. He’s provided the plans and means for us to make this. We’ve had years to store food and prepare. He will make His creation into something new.” 

Zahara thought of the jar she’d seen Emzara crush that first morning. “But you’re saying God will destroy everyone who lives; what of mercy?” 

Noah spoke up. “The people of earth have had one hundred years of mercy. Day after day men and women have come from all around to see the ark and to mock us. I preach righteousness daily but no one will listen. If they would repent, perhaps the Lord would stay His plans.” 

An ache pushed inside of her, so strong it felt she would tear in two. “I want to see it.” 

Noah nodded. “Tomorrow.” 

The next morning Emzara removed the bindings around Zahara’s bruised ribs and helped her to stand. Embarrassed by her stiff, awkward movements, she concentrated on what she would find outside. 

The courtyard outside of the main house was just as busy as inside. Japheth and Ham were scraping large boards; their wives, Adah and Keziah were tending a large garden. A kiln stood at the edge of the house, a large fire pit for the second firing next to it. Both were lit and full of Emzara’s pots Shem had taken from the house that morning. 

Beyond the busy courtyard was a large, looming structure. It stretched wide and stood over three stories tall with a large opening in the center, a ramp leading to it. Hammering echoed from inside. 

“The ark?” Zahara asked, awestruck by its size. 

“God’s mercy,” Emzara corrected. 

The others joined as Emzara helped her up the ramp. The inside was even more impressive than the outside. Three decks rose above them, circling the walls with an opening in the middle from floor to ceiling. Windows at the top filtered light down through the space. The lower deck was filled wall-to-wall with stone jars, neatly organized and secured with rope. 

“Food and water storage,” Emzara explained. 

They found Shem on the second deck, hammering a gate into place on a cage. The deck was filled with hundreds of similar cages. “God told us to take animals; two of each kind, male and female, and enough food for all of us during the Flood, and after.” 

Some cages were small and stacked on one another, others nearly as tall as the ceiling. Each was fitted with a clay jar that opened to a trough at the bottom. A pipe stretched from the pot to large funnels at the top. Ramps above them gave access to the tops of the cages and more funnels with each cage. 

“To get food to the animals more efficiently,” they said. 

On the upper deck were separate living spaces for each couple, and one for Shem. She refrained from asking why Shem would be the only one that didn’t have a mate in the “new world.” But the red in his cheeks told her he knew what she was thinking. 

The rest of the upper deck held a shared kitchen, large pantry, a room for woodworking, another for metal works, and a library filled with scrolls. 

Zahara wanted to flee from their words and frightening predictions. And yet, the truth held her in place. She stood on one hundred years of toil, sweat, and devotion that spoke of unwavering faith in their God. She’d lain awake all night thinking of it; seeing it in living color was overwhelming. 

What if it was all true? 

“I need to find my sister.” 

Part Three

“Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and the pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.” (1 John 2:15-17) 

It was a moonless night, and the stars shone brightly against an inky black sky. Shem walked a familiar path, not needing the light he lacked. How many nights in his lifetime had he climbed this hill? As a child he had followed his father here, scurrying to keep up with his long strides. Noah would bring he and his brothers and their mother to this spot where he had first heard from the Lord. Here, overlooking the city on one side and the ark in the valley on the other, Noah would recount the commands and promises of the Lord. 

As he grew, Shem wrestled with rebellious doubt for a while. He’d stand on this hill, torn between two worlds. What if his father was wrong? He’d watch as the sun went down and the people of the city lit their lamps, and wonder what it would be like to be one of them. 

He would sink to his knees in prayer, searching for answers. Eventually Shem’s gaze would catch on the temple, large and looming, glittering with reflected light on its gold surfaces. He knew well what happened there; how worshippers lit fires beneath the outstretched hands of the goddess and sacrificed their own children—their flesh and blood—to an idol of stone who had eyes that couldn’t see, ears that couldn’t hear, and hands that couldn’t cleanse them of their wickedness. 

Shem’s eyes would then turn to the heavens, where the consistent patterns of time and seasons were displayed. God had spoken into existence the vast sky above him and rolling earth beneath him, not with hands of stone or the will of man; but with wisdom beyond understanding and the power of His Word. Shem would hear his father’s hammer as it ricocheted off the stones around his sanctuary and he would again be uplifted by the testimony of his father’s faith. 

Over the decades, his own faith strengthened as he built the ark with his family and watched his brothers’ wives come to them, just as the Lord promised. Though the years had marched on and no wife had come to share life with Shem, he still believed. He still worked on his living quarters, planning for a bride to share them with. His family also spoke and planned for an eighth person to join them when God brought her. 

That morning, God had spoken to his father again for the first time in one hundred years, putting Shem’s faith to the test as never before. Noah had come from his morning worship, voice overcome with emotion as he shared what he heard: 

“Go into the ark, you and all your household, for I have seen that you are righteous before me in this generation. Take with you…” 

Shem worked the words over in his spirit. You and all your household. 

“I thought I would find you here.” 

Shem smiled as his father clapped him on the shoulder and stood next to him, following his gaze. They stood for a while, both lost in their thoughts. Finally, Noah spoke, “This was your favorite spot as a boy.” 

Shem’s lips twitched. “I thought maybe if I stood here long enough, God would speak to me, too.” He rubbed his palms together and looked down at his work-worn hands. “My faith has not been nearly as strong as yours.” 

Noah lifted his eyes to the heavens. “That’s not true. I have an advantage over you and the rest—I’ve actually heard the voice of God.” He paused. “I am so unworthy.” 

Shem faced him. “How can you say that? You have believed and obeyed the Word of God and have brought us all along with you. You are the most righteous man on earth, Father.” 

Noah didn’t respond and Shem looked back to the heavens, admiring the handiwork of the Lord. Beneath him in the city were many impressive structures and carvings. But this? The heavens, the earth, all of creation from the largest animal to the smallest leaf—spoken into existence by the power of God’s Word. Established and kept in place by His might and wisdom. Shem could scarcely take it in. 

“You know what was the hardest thing for me to build for the ark?” Noah asked, pulling Shem from his thoughts. 

“Ham’s waste removal system?” Shem joked. 

Noah chuckled, no doubt remembered the first time they’d tried the system and wound up with a mess. Thank goodness it was just water that time. 

“No,” he sobered and faced Shem, eyes catching in the starlight. “The door.” 

Shem’s smile wilted and he swallowed. “Yeah.” 

Father and son fell quiet again, processing what the flood would mean for the rest of the world. Would eight people truly be all that was left? Of course the Lord would bless them in the world after the flood and soon there would be more than eight. Once again Shem had to lean on his faith. We didn’t misunderstand you, did we Lord? Surely I won’t be the only one without a mate in the world to come. 

“I wonder how Zahara fares with her sister?” Noah said. 

Shem felt an ache in his spirit. Zahara had found her way into Shem’s thoughts often since he’d taken her back to the city. When she’d first seen the ark, Zahara had wanted to go right back to the city to find her sister; but the family convinced her to rest and heal first. By the time Shem walked her back, he’d grown accustomed to her dark brown eyes meeting his as he passed bread at meals, to her soft voice asking his father questions that deepened his own faith. He had hoped that she and her sister would soon be back to learn more…and maybe to stay? 

The Lord had said Noah, his wife, his sons and their wives would be on the ark; but did that mean no one else would join them? They’d asked that question among themselves often and finally decided it was something they wouldn’t know for sure until it was time. Shem wondered about it again as he watched the path to the city each day, expecting to see Zahara and her sister come into the camp, ready to join them. 

But a month had gone by and he hadn’t seen them again. 

And now the clock was counting down. 

Noah clapped his son on the shoulder again. “The Lord will not forget His promises, Shem. I don’t know who or where she is, but your wife will come, just as He said.” 

Shem swallowed hard and nodded. 

*** 

Zahara laid on her back on the rooftop where she lived with her sister, eyes on the heavens, heart back at the ark. Soul looking to the Lord for answers. 

She believed Noah. Believed that she needed to repent from her wickedness. Believed that unless all inhabitants of the earth repented, God would follow through on His promise to send a flood to destroy them all. 

A muffled burst of laughter broke free from below, grating on her. In the month she had spent recuperating with Shem and his family, her sister Magara had also made friends. Before Zahara knew the truth, she would have fit right in with them. They were funny, cunning, and interesting. When they learned that she was trying to get Magara to go listen to Noah with her, they quickly came to Magara’s defense. They agreed when she told them she thought Zahara had been put under a spell. 

Zahara knew that the time had come for her to leave, even if that meant she might not see her sister again. If she stayed, she would be Eve eying the forbidden tree, considering its fruit until she was easily deceived into believing the serpent rather than God. 

If she didn’t leave tomorrow, she might not ever have the courage. 

*** 

Shem couldn’t believe his eyes. Though they had built cages for the animals, watching them come to them on their own was sobering. 

For many years, animals had been too aggressive to control. Attacks and stampedes had become common. Shem had always wondered how they were going to find any animals tame enough to get on the ark, let alone a male and female from each species. But when Noah heard from the Lord that the flood would come in seven days, all the plans Shem had made through the years of how to capture the animals were rendered worthless. 

That second morning, as his mother and sisters-in-law carried jars of seed and corn into the ark where Ham waited to secure them, a pair of bear cubs had wandered into the clearing and made eye contact with Shem. He backed up, looking around for a quick escape should they charge. He’d backed himself into the high fencing around the gardens. Stuck there, he braced himself, sticking out a booted foot to hold them back. Though they were juveniles, they were strong. He’d been clawed by one before and didn’t want to relive the experience.   

The male led the way over and stopped close to Shem. Hesitatingly, Shem lowered his foot and slowly reached out a hand, palm out. The bear pushed his nose into it. Shem moved his hand back over its nose and head, clasping the scruff of his neck lightly. The bear and his mate followed as Shem walked them to the ramp leading to the ark’s entrance. With a slight shove, they walked on. Before Shem could follow them, movement caught his eye, and two small giraffes appeared where the bears had been. Shem called out to his brothers inside. 

“Hey guys? I think we’re about to get busy!” 

*** 

Zahara felt that her heart would rip in two, so filled with despair and hope that it beat hard in her chest beneath the weight of her choice. That morning, she had told Magara that she needed to act on her belief and go to the ark to work on it with Noah’s family until the flood came, if God would have her. And if He wouldn’t, she still couldn’t go back to her life as it was. If she died in the flood that she believed was coming, she would deserve it. 

Magara had stared at her in shock, hurt flashing in her eyes. “You would leave me for strangers?” 

“No, Sister. I am surrendering my life to God. Not leaving you. You can come too; I beg you to come with me.” 

When Magara didn’t respond, Zahara rushed on to convey everything she’d learned from Emzara, Noah, Shem and the rest. But the more she talked, the more firmly Magara set herself against the words. At last, she commanded Zahara out of her sight. 

Zahara prayed as she walked, not knowing if God would accept her prayers, wondering if she was a brazen fool for thinking she could join herself with His people. 

But in spite of the ache she felt leaving her sister, a warm assurance pushed her onward. Each step that drew her closer to the edge of the city was made with more certainty. As she stepped into the woods, a twig snapped behind her. She turned to see a young elephant and started, eyes darting around for a path of escape. Her knife was strapped to her ankle; if she stooped for it, she wasn’t sure there was time to get it before the animal charged. She knew better than to trust a wild animal. Especially after her brush with death months before. 

The elephant was soon joined by another, but they walked past Zahara as if they didn’t know—or care—that she was there. They stayed ahead of her as she walked hesitantly behind. As she crested the hill her breath caught. Pairs of animals—too numerous to count— spread out in the meadow in front of her, all walking steadily on toward the ark. 

As the massive structure came into sight, Zahara saw Shem, and felt a different kind of hope stir in her spirit. Could it be…that God had chosen her for him? That this was the way it was meant to be all along? He stood near the ramp of the ark, watching the woods. His gaze caught on hers and he went still. 

In a heartbeat he was running toward her, scooping her into his arms, their laughter mingling as he turned them in circles. 

*** 

Shem and Zahara were married on the top deck of the ark that evening. For the following five days, they worked with the family to bring the animals and storage into the ark. Each night they spent in prayer and worship, watching the horizon as the animals came, hoping more people would repent and join them. When Zahara learned how soon the flood’s coming would be, she spent her nights outside Magara’s home begging her to listen. 

Her sister would not relent. 

*** 

Magara knew Zahara would be back. They were too closely knit. No ark, no family—no God—could drive a wedge between them. They had argued many times over the years, and Magara always proved to be more stubborn than Zahara. It might take weeks or even months for her sister to work through whatever this new obsession was. Magara simply needed to wait her out. 

She set her mind to her new life—the one she’d always dreamt of, worked for. She was a treasurer for the temple of the great goddess; if she played her cards right, she would one day be a priestess. 

Zahara didn’t know that Magara, too, believed in the God of Creation and that the accounts from Adam were true. When her sister came back to her, Magara would tell her what she had learned from her friends, the Daughters of Eve. While Adam, they taught her, may have spun the story that Eve had sinned and cursed them all, the truth was that she had risen above the suppression of her Maker and had taken hold of her own destiny. When Zahara tired of being under the thumb of Shem and his God—or when no flood came as Zahara had been deceived into believing—she would come back to her and they would conquer the world, together. As they had always planned. 

Magara was at the money tables when she felt the first drop on her head. Glancing up to see if a bird had flown above, she saw a dark, menacing sky, with more raindrops falling from thick clouds that swirled above. The wind began to push at her, knocking her table over. A loud crack rang out behind her followed by blood-curdling screams. Magara turned to see a fountain of water that had broken through the stones, shooting water high into the air. Another spring broke through next to her. 

Understanding dawned, and she ran toward the ark, sobbing and scrambling. Others ran with her, driven by the same thought: Noah had been right. She crested the hill and saw the ark in the valley below. Others ran ahead, but Magara stopped short when she saw that the door was closing. It was so massive that no one from the inside could be pulling at it. An invisible hand closed the only path to salvation. 

The water was coming from all sides, falling from below, gushing forth from beneath. It swelled around Magara’s knees. All around her people cursed Noah, cursed his God. Magara thought of how her sister had begged for her to repent. She searched her memories for something good and wonderful to think of to comfort her. Instead, her years of stealing, lying, rebellion, and violence were all she could remember. 

Hadn’t Zahara been right there with her in her transgressions? Why, then, did they stand on opposite sides of this wrath, one suffering as God’s enemy, the other held in mercy as His daughter? 

Magara let out a guttural scream, knowing the answer: Zahara had believed. 

*** 

When the rain began to fall and the springs of water burst forth, Zahara clung to Shem and cried as an invisible hand shut the door to the ark from the outside. The terrible screams nearly drowned out the rain as it thundered against the roof of the ark. The animals had all gone still. Gathered in Noah and Emzara’s quarters, the family sat in tangible silence, holding one another close, tears slipping down faces void of emotion. 

The screams of fear had turned to curses of fury. As they drowned, the people continued to mock Noah and rage at the Lord until they could no longer cry out. 

“Fools,” Noah whispered, a sob fell from his lips as the screams faded. 

Judgement came to the wicked world, but mercy to righteous Noah, and all of his household with him, just as the Lord promised. Through the line of Shem came Jesus the Messiah, the promised Seed of Eve, the Savior who came to save His people from their sin and crush the head of the serpent. “The LORD is righteous in all His ways, and kind in all His works.” (Psalm 145:17) 

“The LORD sat as King at the flood; 

Yes the LORD sits as King forever. 

The LORD will give strength to His people; 

The LORD will bless His people with peace.” (Psalm 29:10,11)