Where He Leads I Will Follow: The Woman Behind the Man

 

On that very day Noah and his sons, Shem, Ham and Japheth, together with his wife and the wives of his three sons, entered the ark.  Genesis 7:13

 Today’s study focuses on Noah’s wife, though I’m not sure why. The SOAP verse above is one of only a few mentions we have of her, along with her sons’ wives. The Bible says in chapter 7 that they went into the ark, and then in a couple of verses in chapter 8 that they came out of the ark. That’s it. It doesn’t seem as though there is any more significance to it other than that the people went into the ark in pairs, male and female, as the animals did.

 So, what can we learn from Noah’s wife? Odds are she didn’t say or do anything wildly against her husband’s mission, because that would likely have been recorded as it was in Job 2:9-10. We can guess, from the lack of information otherwise, that Noah’s wife and sons supported him in his mission from God to build an ark. That must have been difficult. Noah had heard from God directly with very specific instructions, but they just had to take Noah at his word. I’m guessing it was a family affair, as I’m not sure how Noah could have built something so large (450 feet long, 75 feet wide and 45 feet high) by himself. Were the women involved in the construction, or just the men? In any case, they would have provided support, comfort and love during this time. With the whole world against them, literally, the men would have needed a safe home-base, somewhere that they were believed, loved and cared for as they completed their special calling.

 As women, we may think our “job” is as a teacher or a nurse or leading worship at church, but if we are married, our first and highest calling is to our husband. When God puts a call on his life, it is our calling too, whether we participate in it directly or support him in it. My husband is deeply called to minister to the homeless* in our community. My first participation in this was to encourage him in his calling. He felt led to volunteer in the kitchen at the local Mission, and I cleared time in our calendar. In early 2020, he became more and more involved in volunteering, and while I did not go with him, I rearranged our time. We had dinner at a different hour, we didn’t schedule things for his serving time, and I supported him going out early in the morning or late at night. Then COVID hit. The Mission was devastated as nearly all of the volunteers stopped coming, but the population they were serving increased dramatically. Early on, my husband showed up for his dinner shift and the staff cook broke out in tears because she thought she was going to have to serve 250 people all by herself. Why did the volunteers stop coming? They were afraid of COVID. It was reasonable. We were being told that this deadly disease was around every corner and they had not, as of yet, developed any successful treatments for it. But that didn’t change the need. As an immune-compromised person, I could have easily asked my husband not to serve and I’m sure he would have agreed, though it would have torn him apart from the inside out. My role, however, was to support him in what God had called him to do. So, instead, I encouraged him to go more. He went nearly every day for a long time. When he and whichever of my kids who had gone with him returned home, they would strip down and put all their clothes in the washer then hop in the shower and clean off any germs that may have lingered. God was gracious to us, and we never caught COVID from my husband’s service to the community. We did get it much later from a trip we took, but during the height and danger of the pandemic, we were kept safe. My husband went on to continue serving: in the kitchen, at the thrift store, with the search and rescue team that goes out onto the streets and ministers to people. He even served on the board for a year. Yes, I have joined him a few times at the kitchen and in the search and rescue van, but that is not where God has called me full-time like him. So how do I serve? By supporting my husband in his service. By saving him dinner on nights when he’s out till 11pm. By guarding our calendar. By encouraging him to sign up for shifts. By NOT complaining about his absence or his service. I celebrate his wins. I pray for his losses. I offer a listening ear when he needs to debrief about traumatic experiences. I hold him when he mourns losing those he has served. And I believe that my service matters, just as his does. If I weren’t supporting him, it’s unlikely that he would have reached over 3,000 hours of service in the last six years. Who knows what lives would not have been touched, which people would have been left unrescued.

Here’s the Thing: Just like Noah’s wife, I will likely go down in history as the spouse of a wonderful man who followed God, and I’m happy to do it. While my role is not as forward-facing or obvious, it is still critically important, as I’m sure hers was. What I know for sure is that God sees it all, and as He has called me to support and love my husband, He knows all that goes into it, and I don’t need anyone else to.

* Yes, I am aware that the politically correct phrase is “persons experiencing homelessness,” but in honor of my husband and his direct experience working with these precious people, I will not use the phrase that was designed to make other people more comfortable. They call themselves homeless and I will too.