In Genesis 12, we're introduced to a Bible superstar: Abraham. And what an up-and-down debut it is for this patriarch of the faith. Bold faith ... followed by wimpy doubt. I can definitely relate to that.
   If I didn't know the rest of Abraham's story and what the rest of the Bible says about God's character, this chapter might make me a little nervous about any "deals" God offers. In fact, looking at just this chapter, I'm almost reminded of a few vacation timeshare marketing experiences my hubby and I have had.
   (Pardon me while I pause to check the sky for any lightning bolts possibly headed in my direction.)
   But WAIT, THERE'S MORE!
   God is NOT a bait-and-switch con artist. Not even close. And if He ever appears to be tricking us, it's certain we just don't know the whole story, just as Abraham didn't when Genesis 12 began.
   As we meet Abraham (who was still called Abram at this point), God is telling him to leave everything -- his country, his relatives, his security -- to go somewhere. Where? Well, God doesn't say. He just says, "Go," and promises Abram big blessings if he obeys.
   How many people would do what Abram did? How many people would go, knowing only what Abram knew? Remember, Abram didn't have a Bible. We don't know if Abram grew up in a home where faith in God was taught or demonstrated or even mentioned. His knowledge of the Almighty had to be pretty limited.
   Of course, God did actually come to Abram here and, hello, TALK to him IN PERSON. We're not told what that looked like, but it must have been a powerfully convincing encounter, as personal encounters with God are.
   "You just crank up those camels and go," God essentially told 75-year-old Abram. Yes, I did too say 75. While 75 seems less old to me every day, I still think it's pretty doggone old to be setting out on a big adventure like the one God was asking Abram to undertake.
   But Abram obeyed. He packed up his wife, his nephew, all their possessions and some servants, and set out. They went here and there and everywhere God told them to go, and what did they find? Blessings at every mile marker?
   Uh, no. They found famine. Very-little-to-no food. No "Country Boy Breakfasts" at the Cracker Barrel along the interstate for Abram and Sarai.
   Why would God send Abram out during a famine? Where were the blessings He promised?
   As it turns out, they were in Egypt.
   The famine forced Abram to go to Egypt in search of food, and waiting there for him were riches. Lots of riches.
   I can't pretend to condone the somewhat creepy way Abram got those riches or understand why God was silent about the tackiness of it all, but my feelings about that are irrelevant. Here's a summary of how it went down: In spite of her age, Sarai was obviously still a "looker" and when she and Abram arrived in Egypt, she caught the eye of the Pharoah himself. Abram saw the way the Pharoah was ogling Sarai and freaked out, claiming his wife was his sister and allowing her to be carted off to to the royal harem. Then Abram accepted all kinds of livestock and servants as payment for her. (Men, do not try this at home.)
   Fortunately, God rescued Sarai from the harem by sending great plagues upon Pharaoh's house -- enough plagues to convince the Egyptian ruler he'd actually bought Abram's wife and needed to drop her like the hot potato she was.
   Pharaoh sent the couple on their way, loaded with all kinds of Egyptian booty. Material blessings obtained in an unexpected way, for sure, but blessings nonetheless.
   Remember, God had promised Abram blessings. When God makes promises, we often assume we know how He's going to keep those promises. But God almost never writes the story the way we expect, or the way we'd write it. Sometimes the path to the promise is bumpy.
   I'm pretty sure when Abram set out on his journey with God, he didn't expect to encounter a famine or a wife-stealing king as a "reward" for obedience. But God knew this weird turn of events would ultimately multiply Abram's wealth and "make his name great."
   God is always in control, no matter what it looks like, and is always faithful to do what He says He'll do. His way, and in His time.
   And He honors those who trust Him, even if that trust is imperfect.
   He looked around for a man who would go when He said, "Go," and He found Abram. Imperfect Abram. Abram who got scared and lied about his wife. But Abram who was at least willing to go, even when he didn't know where or how or why.
   God doesn't require us to be perfect -- just willing to trust Him enough to take that first step ... and the next ... and the next. He can redeem the messes we make along the way, as long as we have a heart that, at its core, wants to know, believe and honor God. Like Abram had. If our heart is like that, our weaknesses and mistakes don't nullify God's promises.
   He is faithful, even when we're not.
   We may encounter famines and long days in the desert and scary turns in the road, but God never makes empty promises. He's no con man. All His promises to us are sure and good.
   That's the heart of our God.

Genesis 11: I Have an Idea!

No telling how many disastrous projects have been launched with these words: "Hey y'all -- I have an idea!"
Big ideas that aren't God ideas are bad ideas, and we find one here in Genesis 11-- the infamous tower of Babel.
Here's what these folks wanted to do: "Come, let us build for ourselves a city, and a tower whose top will reach into heaven, and let us make for ourselves a name, otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth."
What's wrong with building a big tower in a big city, earning a little street cred and sticking together?
Plenty, if it's not God's will. And if this group had just asked God to weigh in on their plan, they could've saved themselves a whole lot of back-breaking work.
It seems these folks had allowed their roots to grow deep and weren't much interested in God's command to spread out so they could "fill the earth." They wanted to stay right where they were, thank you very much.
They also evidently thought a little too highly of themselves, imagining they could build a tower "whose top will reach into heaven" and thereby make a name for themselves.
In response to their selfish, rebellious, misguided efforts, God confused their language. Suddenly, they couldn't understand each other. That happens a lot around my house, but I'm pretty sure it's not God's fault. In Genesis 11, however, God was indeed behind the serious and sudden communication problem.
Since it's impossible to build a tower to heaven when you can't even ask the guy working next to you to pass some bricks, the project went bust and these folks who didn't want to scatter were scattered "abroad over the face of the whole earth."
What was the big deal here and why did God do what He did? Is He like that toddler in the church nursery who delights in knocking down all the other kids' block towers? Uh, no.
In Genesis 6:11, God expresses His concern over what would happen if this construction project succeeded:  "...nothing which they purpose to do will be impossible for them."
I don't fully understand what this means, but this I do know: When sinful people join forces to achieve ungodly goals, it's never a good thing. History certainly bears that out.
Whatever else was involved here, it seems God was clearly trying to save the Babel-dwellers from themselves. When someone is racing down a path of destruction, the most loving thing we can do is to stop them, which is exactly what God did. I'm sure it didn't feel like love to the Babel-ites, but love doesn't have to feel good to be true.
Sometimes God demonstrates His love for us by derailing our bad ideas.
That's His heart.

Genesis 10: The Big Scatter

Oh no, it's one of those genealogy chapters, one of those places in the Bible where I suspected the going might get tough on this looking-for-God's-heart blogging adventure.
At first glance, chapter 10 just looked like a list of the sons of Noah ... and their sons ... and their sons. Mostly names that are hard to pronounce and easy to forget.
I wondered what I could possibly learn here about who God is, very aware that if I don't learn something, I can't write anything. And if I don't write anything, then well, the wheels are coming off my blog just 10 chapters in.
So I read and reread chapter 10. And about the third time through, I saw something rather important woven through the verses -- one world becoming many nations. 
Noah's descendants obviously did multiply and fill the earth, because, well, here we are today, with people just about everywhere. The "coastlands of the nations were separated into their lands, every one according to his language, according to their families, into their nations" (verse 5).
It's not exactly a picture of a close-knit family living up on Walton's Mountain together, is it?  
This chapter seems a little sad to me, even though all this going of separate ways was necessary. Maybe because I'm a South Carolina mama with one of my sons and his family living in California. I know how it feels to have a piece of my heart carried a whole continent away. 
So I wonder how our future-knowing God felt about all of this family break-up business among Noah's descendants? Yes, it was His idea, but as I read the names of Noah's descendants and the places they settled, I tripped over several who later became thorns in the side of God and His people. I couldn't help but wonder how God can stand to be God, knowing the future -- especially the painful, evil, dysfunctional things? 
This listing of Noah's descendants and their locales included names like Babel, Assyria, Nineveh, Sodom, and Gomorrah. And all those evil "-ites" -- those people who later dogged the Hebrew nation as God's chosen people tried to settle into their inheritance in the Promised Land. (Jebusites, Amorites, Girgashites, Hivites, and so on.)
All these folks started out as one family -- Noah's family. But here in chapter 10, we read how that family "separated," "went forth," "was spread abroad," and "divided." And God knew that thousands of bloody years would pass before the people He created would ever happily and peacefully reunite again as one family -- His family. He knew He'd have to watch countless murders, wars, atrocities and injustices before His righteousness finally prevails.
Watching Noah's family disperse, God knew what was coming, and I'm thinking the only way He could stand to watch it all was because He knew He had a perfect plan. Before the foundation of the world, God formed His master plan of redemption, a plan that required the separation of people, beginning here with Noah's clan, into different nations and languages. All so that He could ultimately bring His children together again, perfectly and forever, in His new heaven and earth. 
The "-ites," Egyptians, Assyrians and other ancient enemies of God couldn't thwart God's plan ... and neither can His enemies today, though they be many. 
So, yes, Genesis 10 is more than a tedious genealogy. It's yet another example of the incredibly patient heart and matchless brilliance of our sovereign God.
He has a plan, He works His plan, and thankfully, He always, always prevails.

Genesis 9: How We Finish Matters

It's hard to put myself in the sandals of Noah and his family here in Genesis 9 as they emerged from the ark and started their lives all over from scratch. The traumatic, tragic flood was over and they now found themselves in a world radically different from the one they knew before. 
They walked onto dry land with just a few animals, each other and God. Would it be enough?
In a word, yes. 
God proved Himself faithful, continuing to take care of Noah and his clan, anticipating their fears and questions, providing instructions and reassurances before they even asked.
I don't know what these people were feeling or thinking, but I probably would have wondered, "What are we supposed to do now? Is there anything left to eat around here? Where are we supposed to go? How do we start over? What rules does God want us to follow? If He gets mad at us, will He bring another flood?"
(Or perhaps because I'm really squeamish and wimpy, "Am I going to step on any dead bodies when I get off this boat?") 
Here's my (admittedly inadequate) summary of what God told them here in Chapter 9:
"We need more people on the earth, so make babies. You're at the top of the food chain around here, so eat anything you want to, but be sure you drain the blood from anything you're going to eat. Every living creature, including you, is going to eventually die, but if you unjustly take the life of another human being, you'll face judgment because every person is created in My image. The weather is going to be different than it was before. Rain will come and go and yes, at first that's going to seem very scary to you, but here's My promise: I'll never again destroy the whole earth with a flood. In fact, I'll give you a sign to seal this promise -- a rainbow in the sky. The rainbow will remind us both of My covenant."
I love that God proactively addressed what may have been the biggest questions and fears in the minds and hearts of Noah and his family. God was surely still heartbroken Himself (though not surprised) over the fall and subsequent destruction of His creation, but He loved this tiny band of survivors enough to give them, in that moment, what they most needed: purpose, instruction, boundaries, reassurance and hope.
Oh, if only Chapter 9 had ended with this tender scene. 
But it didn't. 
Unfortunately, we have to deal with the second half of this chapter, which reads like a script from a bad soap opera. 
Fortunately, since my sole purpose is to look for God's heart in these verses, I don't have to spend much time here on the sordid details of that second half -- righteous Noah getting drunk and naked, his son's mocking, shocking disrespect, and the curse Noah then pronounced upon that son's branch of the family tree. 
I just want to try to see God's heart in it and through it, and all I can imagine about that is that all these goings-on surely must have stung His heart. Only one family left on earth and already it appears to be in shambles.
I'm sure God wanted Noah to hit the tape at the end of his long, long race running well, as He wants us all to do. But it doesn't look like that happened. It looks like the first part of Noah's life was more righteous than the last, and that is always sad. 
Was Noah's "drunk-and-naked" episode really a big deal to God? Well, God doesn't actually tell us. In fact, He doesn't speak at all in the last half of Genesis 9. But the fact that He chose to include the shameful incident in His Word seems significant. God could have simply left it out and we would never have known about this embarrassing skeleton in Noah's family closet. 
We could have been left with an image of Noah that was only righteous, only courageous. Noah who believed God when no one else did. Noah who endured decades of relentless ridicule while he steadfastly obeyed the unusual, difficult orders of his God. Noah, our faithful hero.
But God chose to let us see Noah's feet of clay here at the end of Chapter 9 and that makes me think two things: 1) God wants to remind us that only He is perfect and worthy of exaltation and 2) God really cares how we finish our lives. Even men and women of great faith and courage can get sloppy and mess up their legacies.
It's not enough to start strong or have a tremendous burst in the middle of our races. It also very much matters how we finish.
I don't want my race to end like Noah's.  

Genesis 8: Off the Ark and On His Knees

Why on earth do I ever doubt that God is in control?
His sovereignty is sprinkled all over Genesis 8 ... and all over this world and our lives.
The chapter begins with the reassuring truth that God didn't forget Noah and his arkmates. Well, of course not. After all, there wasn't anybody else left on earth.
But suppose it said here that God did forget about them, even for just a minute? Think about how disconcerting that would be. If I let myself imagine that, then I can appreciate the truth that God didn't forget Noah ... and He doesn't forget us as we bob up and down on our arks in this fallen world. 
I see in Genesis 8 that at the right time, God conducted the forces of nature like a mighty orchestra to recreate our planet. He caused the wind to blow and the waters to subside; He closed the fountains of the deep and the floodgates of the sky; He restrained the rain.
And He did it all in perfect order, with perfect power and precision. 
I see that in all the references in this chapter to specific dates and times: 
... at the end of 150 days the water decreased 
... the ark rested upon a mountain on the 17th day of the 7th month
... on the first day of the 10th month, the tops of the mountains became visible 
... 40 days later, Noah opened the window 
... he sent out birds every seven days to seek land 
... on the first day of the first month of the 601st year, the surface of the ground was dried up 
... on the 27th day of the second month, the earth was dry.
Honestly, it sounds like a woman describing something to a man who just wishes she'd skip all the details and get to the point.
But these time and number details aren't just irrelevant fluff. No, I think they confirm that the events in Genesis 8 actually happened, and happened according to God's timetable -- a God who obviously cares about details. 
Do you ever feel like our eternal, transcending-time-and-space God forgets how long some of our hours and days and years seem ?
He doesn't. He counts them with us. He's not bound by time, but He is obviously quite aware of it.
"And on the 14th day of the 5th month of the 1,957th year, Mary Ann was born. And on the 28th day of the 8th month of the 2,013th year, Mary Ann sat down, read my Word and wrote this blog post."
And on any particular day of any particular month of any particular year, He knows what you're going through, how long it will last, and exactly how to unfold His plan in your life ... and in this world.
He sees and He knows.
I can't leave Genesis 8 without also mentioning the very first thing Noah did when he finally got off that ark: "Then Noah built an altar to the Lord ... and offered burnt offerings on the altar." (vs. 20)
Noah worshipped God. 
After all he'd been through -- all those months tossed around by waves on a boat full of stinky, noisy animals; all those months of fear and uncertainty and discomfort -- after all that, Noah worshipped God. 
He wasn't bitter over what God had done to him; he was grateful for what God had done for him. 
Easy to see why God chose Noah, isn't it?
And God "smelled the soothing aroma" of Noah's worship and said, "'...I will never again destroy every living thing, as I have done.'" (vs. 21)
Worship matters to God. 
God remembers. God restores. God notices. God responds. God rewards. God controls.
Don't know about you, but I'm glad I'm His.

Genesis 7: Looking for People to Save

God was looking for people to save.
He found only one: Noah.
We have a choice to make when we read Genesis 7. We can choose to focus on all the people who died in the great flood God brought upon the earth OR we can focus on the one man God saved (along with his very fortunate, coattail-riding family members).
If we focus only on the horror of those who perished in the flood, we're likely to get the wrong idea about God's heart and character. If we go down that path, it's hard not to wonder how God could be loving and yet blot out children, puppies and literally everything "in whose nostrils was the breath of the spirit of life" (vs. 22).
That's the very rock upon which many souls have shipwrecked, isn't it?
How could a good God not only allow suffering and death, but actually even cause it, as He did here?
Well, this is exactly why I believe it's incredibly important to look at all of God's Word to see what He is really like. If we pull isolated, admittedly tough stories like this one out of context, we're doomed to come to wrong conclusions about who God is.
That's why, in fact, I set out on this blogging adventure -- to have a truer, more complete knowledge of this God I've chosen to follow.
As I mentioned in some earlier posts, I think we just can't comprehend how evil evil really is, how pervasive it had become by Genesis 7, and how much destruction and pain it causes. In truth, God didn't destroy anything in the flood that wasn't already doomed to self-destruct anyway. The sinful choices of earth's inhabitants had already set the planet on a quick path to destruction. Things fall apart pretty fast when evil takes over, whether we're talking about individual lives or entire civilizations.
Let's not overlook the incredibly important truth here in Genesis 7 that God was actively looking for people to save, desperately looking for any whose hearts were turned toward Him. Yes, "innocent" children were killed in the great flood, but we mustn't forget that God sees all of time and He knew the path those kids were going down. There was obviously, literally no hope for any of them in a world gone so wrong. Removing them from such pervasive, destructive evil was evidently the most loving option. (Let me quickly add here that ONLY God can ever make a call like that. It's never ... ever ... okay for us to kill babies or children using this same rationale. We don't know what God knows.)
I see in Genesis 7 that sin is a big, big deal to God. It destroys all the good plans He has for His creation. It grieves Him and yes, it makes Him righteously angry. And even though God is full of grace, mercy, patience and longsuffering, we should never forget that sin is still a big deal to Him. Letting it go too far is playing with fire ... or water, in this case. Lots of water.
It's also clear in Genesis 7 that God sees those who honor Him. He sees. Sometimes we think He doesn't, but He does. And He so cared about righteous Noah that He even allowed him to bring his unrighteous loved ones onto the ark with him. Noah's wives, kids and daughters-in-law should have been pretty darn thankful for old Noah and his godly heart. He was the only thing keeping them from sleeping with the fishes. Why did God do that? Why did He spare Noah's family? Well, maybe to spare Noah additional pain. I mean, this whole ark and flood thing was no picnic for Noah, and he might have been completely shattered if he had lost everyone he loved. And really, would Noah have felt blessed and rewarded by God if he had been stuck on the ark completely alone with a bunch of stinky, noisy, high-maintenance animals?
Or maybe God spared Noah's family because, practically speaking, God obviously needed some people to survive and replenish the earth. Oh sure, He could have opted to replay Genesis 1 again -- sort of a "Creation Remix" -- but I think it's interesting that He chose not to go that route. Maybe because when God sets a plan in motion, He sees it through until the end. One garden of Eden, one sinless couple, one fall. Personally, I don't think God wanted to go through all of that again. He had a plan in place and knew that He could ultimately keep working His plan, even with fallen creatures constantly trying to thwart it, until He brings about the eternally perfect new heaven and earth Scripture promises.
Whatever the reason, Noah's family got a free pass from the flood.
It's theologically tricky to sort it all out -- way above my pay grade and beyond my intellect -- but throughout the Scriptures we see examples and indications that our own holiness in some ways and in some situations profoundly impacts the well-being of our loved ones. When we're blessed, they often are, too. Ultimately, we will all stand before God individually to give an account for what we did with God's offer of eternal salvation through faith in Christ, but this I know: The most loving thing we can do in this life for the people we love is to walk intimately and passionately with God. Some of our blessings are sure to spill out on them.
God was not looking for people He could sadistically destroy. He was looking for people He could save.
He still is.
That's the heart of the God I love.

Genesis 6: Just Like Noah

Well, if you've ever wondered if God has a heart, here's your answer in Genesis 6. Check out verse 6: "The Lord was sorry that he had made man on the earth, and He was grieved in His heart."
There it is. God was grieved in His heart. So, yes, God has a heart. A heart so real and soft that it can be grieved, and it surely was.
Have you ever invested so much in a dream and then watched that dream turn into a nightmare?
Have you ever wanted only good for someone you deeply love and then had that person completely misunderstand, ignore, betray and abandon you?
Have you ever watched someone close to you make choices that wrecked their lives?
Have you ever felt rejected by every single person in your world except one friend -- one true friend -- who believed in you, stood by you and sacrificed their own reputation to defend you?
If so, you understand how God may have been feeling here in Genesis 6.
Wow, just a few pages ago, God seemed quite delighted by all He had made. "It was good," He said. Now, four chapters later, He was sorry He'd made it. Things went south in a hurry on this fallen planet.
We may sometimes look around and think our world is going to hell in a handbasket, but we've never seen the kind of evil that had taken over in the days of Genesis 6.
"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." (Verse 5)
EVERY intent. ONLY evil CONTINUALLY.
Evil on steroids. Worse than bad.
So, we read these tragic words: "The Lord was sorry that He had made man on the earth ..." (vs. 6)
God's perfect, glorious, loving intentions for His cherished creatures had gone unrealized because He had given man the freedom and dignity to choose ... or not choose ... to live in relationship with Him.
We read in Genesis 6 that only one man -- just ONE -- chose to walk with God at this point in time. The rest went their own way, and their own way was evil. (Selfish and bad are the default settings in a fallen world.)  
Noah was that one who chose God's way over his own: "But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord  ... Noah was a righteous man, blameless in His time; Noah walked with God."
Noah -- a tiny, tiny flicker of light in the vast, smothering darkness of a thoroughly evil world. But God saw the tiny flicker, and He loved that flicker, and He saved it, and fanned it. And here I am (and you too, I hope) -- millions of flickers of light who have chosen God's way, just like Noah did.
And here we are, just like Noah, in a world that is far too evil.
And here we are, just like Noah, with a chance to bless the heart of God by accepting the righteousness that comes through faith in Jesus Christ, by being blameless in our time, by walking with God.
But, unlike Noah, we don't have to build an ark to escape the coming, just wrath of God. He 's already provided a lifeboat: Jesus.
All who climb aboard and trust Him will be saved.
Just like Noah.