This is an expanded blog entry from a Facebook post.
My job comes to an end in 40 days. Forty days. Forty blessed days. The length of time God took to flood the earth. The number of days Moses was up the mountain and the Israelites were left to fend for their frightened and idolatrous selves. The number of days Israel’s spies wandered the land of Canaan — the land of promise — seeking to see what kind of land it was the Lord their God was giving to them. The number of days Israel was stymied by the Philistines before David felled their champion Goliath.
For forty days, Elijah fled from Jezebel on the strength of food and drink the Lord gave him. For forty days, Ezekiel was commanded to lie on his right side and “bear the punishment of the house of Judah.”
Forty days. The number of days between Jonah’s warning to Ninevah and that great city’s impending doom. The amount of time Jesus was in the wilderness, hungry and thirsty and alone with the devil and the angels and the animals. The number of days the risen Jesus appeared to the disciples after his crucifixion, speaking to them about the kingdom of God.
Forty days. And then I’m done.