41 Always Arrives

There’s something quietly powerful about the number 41. It’s not flashy or famous. But once you notice it, you start to see it everywhere—especially in scripture.

I encountered it recently with a piece of jewelry. A simple silver pendant of just the number 41. It caught my eye and piqued my interest. As soon as I read the story behind it, the lessons all came flooding back.

It rained for 40 days and 40 nights, and then on day 41, the skies cleared.
Moses waited on the mountain 40 days before receiving the Ten Commandments.
The Israelite’s wandered the wilderness for 40 years—then entered the Promised Land.
Goliath taunted the Israelites for 40 days. On day 41, David stepped forward.
Jesus fasted and was tempted for 40 days. Then, on day 41, the devil fled.

Over and over, 40 marks a season of trial, testing, or transformation.
But it’s day 41 that brings the shift. The breakthrough. The blessing.

And maybe that’s why this message feels especially relevant right now.

April is a season of sacred celebration for many—Easter, Passover, Ramadan, and the quiet promise of spring awakening all around us. It’s a month where faith takes center stage—not just as a tradition, but as a lifeline. As the trees bud, the rains fall, and winter slowly loosens its grip, we’re reminded that what looks barren is often just preparing to bloom.

So if you’ve been in a long season of waiting, wondering, or wandering, let this be your invitation:
Don’t give up at 40. Your 41 is coming.

Faith in the In-Between

It’s easy to celebrate on Day 41. But the strength of our faith shows up on Day 26… Day 33… Day 39. The days when nothing seems to be happening. When we’re still in the thick of it, waiting, hoping, maybe even questioning.

That’s where faith becomes something more than belief—it becomes a choice.
A daily, moment-by-moment decision to trust what we can’t yet see.

Lysa TerKeurst writes in her book It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way:

“The waiting room of life is not a place to be feared. It is a sacred space where God does some of His deepest work.”

God is not idle in our waiting. He is working in the background, strengthening us in unseen ways, setting the stage for what’s next. Faith isn’t the absence of doubt—it’s the determination to stay when doubt whispers that it’s time to give up.

Every Cloud Runs Out of Rain

The image of storms runs throughout scripture and our lives—waves crashing, skies darkening, winds howling. But no storm lasts forever.

Eventually, even the heaviest cloud runs out of rain.

Even in the darkest hours, we’re promised that morning will come.
Even after the flood, the rainbow appears.

Maya Angelou said it simply and powerfully:

“Every storm runs out of rain.”

Hold onto that. Let it anchor your soul on days when you're soaked to the bone and questioning whether the sun even remembers how to shine.

Living Like 41 Is Coming

Hope isn’t passive. It’s not sitting back and wishing things would change—it’s living like you believe they will.

It means continuing to plant seeds, even when the soil looks dry.
It means preparing for the promise, even when there’s no sign of it yet.
It means walking forward with expectancy, not resignation.

As Emily P. Freeman encourages in her book The Next Right Thing:

“Do the next right thing in love.”

When you don’t know what’s coming, just do the next faithful thing.
Pray the prayer. Take the step. Make the call. Rest when you need to.

Trust that your obedience in the waiting is shaping who you’ll be when the answer comes.

And be grateful as you wait. One of my favorite pieces of wisdom that has been passed down through generations to me from my Native American ancestors is to always be thankful for unknown blessings already on their way.

A Closing Thought

Maybe you're on day 40 right now.
Maybe you've been on day 40 for what feels like a long, long time.

Don’t stop now.

You don’t know how close you are to healing, or clarity, or joy again.
You don’t know what God is working out behind the scenes and has been all along.
You don’t know what strength is building inside you that you can’t yet see.

But you can know this: 41 always arrives.

And this season—this month of holy pauses and unfolding petals and prayers answered in quiet ways—reminds us that God is always doing something new.

It may not look like you expect. It may not come when you think it should.
But it will come. And when it does, you’ll see it for what it was—a promise fulfilled, a burden lifted, a rainbow after rain.

Don’t give up at 40.
Not now. Not when the ground is softening, and grace is blooming.
Your 41 is coming.