God Of The Eleventh Hour

This is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: “The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD sends rain on the land.”

You’ve probably heard stories like this before. A waitress who is late on her rent receives an extra generous tip that covers the difference between her account balance and what’s needed. A dad who’s lost his job arrives home from another fruitless day of pounding the pavement for work to find a bag of groceries on his front stoop. We hear these stories and marvel. “Miracles still can happen,” we say.

When you’re grieving, however, it can be hard to hear other people’s stories of miraculous provision. You prayed just as fervently as they did, but a cure never came. You trusted that God would provide, but it appears he answered no to your request. In the case of today’s Scripture—why do some widows get jars of flour and oil while others go hungry? How can a story of one woman’s amazing gift encourage us when we know that sometimes God doesn’t show up in the ways we’d hoped?

The story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath not only reminds us that God will meet our needs; it also invites us into a relationship with God that is deeper and rawer than any we may have known before. When Elijah visits the widow, she tells him plainly that she’s past the eleventh hour of suffering. No husband. No food. No hope. She’ll gather some firewood, she says, and head home to die alongside her son. The widow does not feign belief or measure her words. She doesn’t even mention God. How could he be helpful at this point anyway?

As we grieve with honesty before God, this “before” part of the widow’s story is just as important as what comes after. God is not offended by the widow’s despair. He doesn’t chastise her for her lack of faith in miracles. Instead, God receives her just as she is. No polite facade necessary.

What is the miracle in the story of Elijah and the widow? Yes, it’s the oil and flour that don’t run out. Even more, it is the tender, faithful God who welcomes us no matter if our faith is large or small. When belief runs thin and despair sets in, he doesn’t leave us. Whatever the results of our prayers, today receive this intimate connection as a miracle worthy of praise in your grief.

I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of Egypt. Open wide your mouth and I will fill it.

The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.

A Prayer: God, I wish you always answered my prayers the way I want them answered. I don’t understand why you sometimes seem silent. I don’t know why you sometimes seem to say no. I hear other people’s miracle stories, and I jealously want my own. Help me to remember that the miracle is not in what you provide but in who you are to me, my Savior and Lord. You’ve chosen me and love me with an everlasting love. You are all-wise and all-knowing; nothing that concerns me is beyond your notice. Teach me to enjoy the miracle of our relationship today. Amen.

An Activity for Today: Take a gentle trip down memory lane by breaking out a photo album and mindfully journeying through the pictures today. (If you haven’t made a scrapbook or photo album, perhaps today is a prompt to start that project!)

As you look through photographs, don’t rush. Approach them like an investigator, carefully observing small details. Who is in the foreground? Look at facial expressions and bodily postures. Make note of clothing and accessories. Let these details draw forth memories. Sit compassionately with them and take your time.

Next, start to look beyond the subjects of the photographs to the context. What do you notice? If you’re also in the pictures, allow your mind to drift back to that time. What stands out to you as you remember? Thank God for the life of your person and the treasure that these tangible memories hold. With each photograph, thank God that he is the unseen presence in every one. There is no moment he has ever been absent from your life or your loved one’s life.

A Song to Encourage Your Heart: “Near the Cross” by The Petersens