The Number Fourty

Forty. This is just my take on it. It’s one of those numbers that keeps showing up all over the Bible, over and over again, almost like God is highlighting it in bold, purposefully so we will notice it. Fourty. It’s not random, and it’s not just a coincidence—it’s intentional, purposeful, and carrying a weight that stretches all the way from Genesis to Revelation. Every time it appears, something is happening, something is shifting, something is being completed or prepared or tested. And the deeper you look, the more you realize that forty isn’t just a number—it’s a pattern. It’s a divine cycle of trial, transformation, and transition.

Let’s start at the beginning. The first time we see forty in Scripture, it’s tied to judgment and cleansing. In Genesis, when God sent the flood, the rain poured down for forty days and forty nights. That wasn’t just a heavy storm; that was the undoing of creation itself, a total reset of the earth. The Hebrew word for forty is אַרְבָּעִים (arba‘im), and while it simply means "forty," the root word ארבע (arba‘) is tied to the idea of things being squared, stable, or complete in a foundational way. Forty, then, isn’t just about time—it’s about bringing something full circle, about reaching a divine fullness where one phase ends and another begins.

Noah didn’t just endure forty days of rain—he waited. After the rain stopped, the waters didn’t just disappear. Genesis 7:24 says, “And the waters prevailed upon the earth an hundred and fifty days.” That’s five full months where the floodwaters covered everything. And then, Genesis 8:3 tells us that the waters “returned from off the earth continually: and after the end of the hundred and fifty days the waters were abated.” In Hebrew, the phrase “returned from off the earth continually” uses the verb שׁוּב (shuv), which means to turn back, to restore, or to retreat. It wasn’t instant—it was a slow, steady process.

And then came the waiting. In Genesis 8:6-7, we see that Noah waited forty days before opening the ark and sending out a raven. That wasn’t just about seeing if the land was dry—it was a test, a process of discernment. The raven didn’t return, so Noah waited again. Then he sent a dove, and the dove came back. He waited seven more days and sent it again, and finally, after another seven days, the dove didn’t return, meaning the earth was finally ready. This wasn’t just about survival—it was about patience, about trusting God’s timing, about waiting for the right moment before stepping into something new.

And that’s just the first major use of forty. As soon as you start looking, it’s everywhere.

Moses’ life? It’s divided into three sets of forty. He lived forty years in Egypt, then forty years in Midian as a shepherd, and then he led Israel through the wilderness for forty years. And speaking of that wilderness journey, Israel spent forty years wandering because they refused to trust God at the edge of the Promised Land. In Numbers 14:34, God says, “After the number of the days in which ye searched the land, even forty days, each day for a year, shall ye bear your iniquities, even forty years, and ye shall know my breach of promise.” The Hebrew phrase for “breach of promise” here is תְּנוּאָה (tenu'ah), which means opposition or turning away. God wasn’t just delaying their entry—He was making them understand what happens when you reject His leading.

And let’s talk about that wilderness. What was it for? Testing. Humbling. Preparation. Deuteronomy 8:2 says, “And you shall remember all the way which the Lord your God led you these forty years in the wilderness, to humble you, and to prove you, to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments, or no.” That word for “prove” is נָסָה (nasah), which means to test, to try, to examine. God wasn’t just making them wander aimlessly—He was refining them, shaping them, exposing their hearts.

Then there’s Elijah. He traveled forty days and forty nights to Mount Horeb When he was trying to escape the evil Queen Jezabel (1 Kings 19), the same mountain where Moses met God. And when he got there, he experienced that moment of silence, that “still small voice,” which in Hebrew is קוֹל דְּמָמָה דַקָּה (qol d’mamah daqqah)—literally, “the voice of sheer silence.” Elijah had just come off the biggest victory of his life, calling down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel, but instead of celebrating, he was running for his life. And God didn’t meet him in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire—He met him in the silence.

And then, of course, there’s Jesus. He fasted in the wilderness for forty days and forty nights before beginning His ministry. That wasn’t random. That was a direct parallel to Israel’s forty years in the wilderness. Where they failed, He overcame. Where they doubted, He stood firm. And when Satan came to tempt Him, every response He gave was from the Torah—the very words God had spoken to Israel during their own time of testing.

Even after the resurrection, Jesus spent forty days on earth before ascending to heaven. Acts 1:3 says, “To whom also He shewed himself alive after his passion by many infallible proofs, being seen of them forty days, and speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God.” That period wasn’t just about proving He was alive—it was about preparing the disciples for what came next.

The number forty is everywhere in Scripture, and every time it appears, it marks a season of transition. It’s a bridge between what was and what will be, a time of testing and preparation, a period where God works beneath the surface, refining, reshaping, and readying His people for what’s ahead.

And that’s the thing about forty—it’s never just about endurance. It’s about transformation. Noah’s world wasn’t the same after forty days of rain. Moses wasn’t the same after forty years in the wilderness. Israel wasn’t the same after forty years of wandering. Elijah wasn’t the same after forty days of travel. And Jesus? His forty days in the wilderness marked the beginning of the most powerful ministry the world has ever seen.

So what about us? What do we do with this? Because forty isn’t just an ancient number—it’s a pattern that still plays out in our lives. We all go through seasons of testing. We all have moments where we’re wandering, waiting, or being stretched beyond what we think we can handle. But if Scripture teaches us anything, it’s that forty isn’t the end—it’s the process before the breakthrough.

And the real question is—what happens when the forty is over? Do we step into what God has prepared for us? Or do we turn back out of fear, like Israel at the edge of the Promised Land? Because the wilderness isn’t forever. The rain does stop. The testing does end. And when it does, the ones who have endured, who have trusted, who have let God work in the silence—those are the ones who step into the next thing He has planned.

Forty isn’t just a number. It’s a calling. It’s an invitation to trust Him, to let Him do the deep work, to embrace the process, and to be ready when the time comes. Because on the other side of forty—everything changes.

 

I hope this message blessed you. If so, please leave a comment. I look forward to hearing from you.

Anna M. C. Hazen  2025

The image is AI generated on chatgpt.