19 1-2 Ahab reported to Jezebel everything that Elijah had done, including the massacre of the prophets. Jezebel immediately sent a messenger to Elijah with her threat: “The gods will get you for this and I’ll get even with you! By this time tomorrow you’ll be as dead as any one of those prophets.” 3-5 When Elijah saw how things were, he ran for dear life to Beersheba, far in the south of Judah. He left his young servant there and then went on into the desert another day’s journey. He came to a lone broom bush and collapsed in its shade, wanting in the worst way to be done with it all—to just die: “Enough of this, God! Take my life—I’m ready to join my ancestors in the grave!” Exhausted, he fell asleep under the lone broom bush. Suddenly an angel shook him awake and said, “Get up and eat!” 6 He looked around and, to his surprise, right by his head were a loaf of bread baked on some coals and a jug of water. He ate the meal and went back to sleep. 7 The angel of God came back, shook him awake again, and said, “Get up and eat some more—you’ve got a long journey ahead of you.” 8-9 He got up, ate and drank his fill, and set out. Nourished by that meal, he walked forty days and nights, all the way to the mountain of God, to Horeb. When he got there, he crawled into a cave and went to sleep. Then the word of God came to him: “So Elijah, what are you doing here?” 10 “I’ve been working my heart out for the God-of-the-Angel-Armies,” said Elijah. “The people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, destroyed the places of worship, and murdered your prophets. I’m the only one left, and now they’re trying to kill me.” 11-12 Then he was told, “Go, stand on the mountain at attention before God. God will pass by.” A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before God, but God wasn’t to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but God wasn’t in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but God wasn’t in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper.
13-14 When Elijah heard the quiet voice, he muffled his face with his great cloak, went to the mouth of the cave, and stood there. A quiet voice asked, “So Elijah, now tell me, what are you doing here?” Elijah said it again, “I’ve been working my heart out for God, the God-of-the-Angel-Armies, because the people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, destroyed your places of worship, and murdered your prophets. I’m the only one left, and now they’re trying to kill me.” 15-18 God said, “Go back the way you came through the desert to Damascus. When you get there anoint Hazael; make him king over Aram. Then anoint Jehu son of Nimshi; make him king over Israel. Finally, anoint Elisha son of Shaphat from Abel Meholah to succeed you as prophet. Anyone who escapes death by Hazael will be killed by Jehu; and anyone who escapes death by Jehu will be killed by Elisha. Meanwhile, I’m preserving for myself seven thousand souls: the knees that haven’t bowed to the god Baal, the mouths that haven’t kissed his image.” 19 Elijah went straight out and found Elisha son of Shaphat in a field where there were twelve pairs of yoked oxen at work plowing; Elisha was in charge of the twelfth pair. Elijah went up to him and threw his cloak over him. 20 Elisha deserted the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, “Please! Let me kiss my father and mother good-bye—then I’ll follow you.” “Go ahead,” said Elijah, “but, mind you, don’t forget what I’ve just done to you.” 21 So Elisha left; he took his yoke of oxen and butchered them. He made a fire with the plow and tackle and then boiled the meat—a true farewell meal for the family. Then he left and followed Elijah, becoming his right-hand man. 1 Kings 19 (The Message)
As a child, I was confused by this story from the life of Elijah the prophet. Just before this, Elijah had challenged the prophets of Baal and Asherah. He was outnumbered 850 to one, yet he stood defiantly, and asked the people of Israel to choose between their false gods and the one true God. God had produced fire on the mountain and shown His mighty power, while the false prophets were humiliated and later slain. It was a stupendous victory! And yet, Elijah, when told of Queen Jezebel’s anger, fled in terror, hid in the wilderness, and asked for death! Surely, Elijah remembered what God had just accomplished. Surely he knew that the same God who sent fire and ended the drought could protect Elijah from harm. Didn’t he? And I expected that God would react with consternation at this display by Elijah–how ungrateful to throw such a pity party after God had done such a miracle!
But God did the most curious thing. He could have sent a powerful reassurance. He could have ordered Elijah to return to the palace to deal with the wicked king and queen–finish the job and bring divine justice to Israel’s ruling family. He could have called Elijah out over his bad behavior and lack of faith. But God let Elijah whine and run away. And after Elijah threw a temper tantrum, God sent an angel to bring him food and water. Finally, God allowed Elijah to see His power in the forms of a mighty wind, an earthquake, and a fire. And it was THEN, and only then, that God spoke to Elijah in a still, small voice– a whisper– something so intimate and comforting that Elijah could not fail to recognize that it was the voice of God.
God CAN and will do mighty miracles. But so often, He prefers to work in a whisper. He is Glorious, and Powerful, and Omnipotent– yes. But He is also intimate and gentle and nurturing– especially with those who have ears to listen; those who have been broken down; those who need a quiet voice of reassurance and peace.
As I have grown older, I see so much in this passage that I couldn’t see as a child. I see how often I “lose it” just after I think I’ve won a great victory. I see how many times God has come to me in whispers and little gestures– just when I need a gentle hug and a simple reminder of His care. God is not the one who points out my temper tantrums and lack of faith. God doesn’t yell recriminations at me– even when I know I deserve them! I see how often I throw a tantrum, and expect God’s wrath, only to be met with His arms around me, calming me, lifting my head so I can look into His eyes of compassion and mercy. God is my Father– and a gentle, wise, and loving Father. And when He draws me close– He whispers of His Love.
Yes, God sent fire from the mountain. He caused justice to be done upon the false prophets. It was mighty; it was fierce; it was devastating. God IS a God of wrath– and even prophets can get wounded in the fight. There is evil in the world, and when we stand up to it, it is exhausting– even when we know God is with us. But God knows our limits. He will often give us more than we can handle– in our own power– and He will pull us through the kind of trials that test and stretch those limits. But He is also preparing a time and place of rest and His quiet whispers of encouragement and hope when we are tempted to give up.
God didn’t just whisper empty promises or nice-sounding platitudes when He finally spoke to Elijah. He brought a new message– someone else would be God’s instrument of justice for Ahab and Jezebel. Someone else would come alongside Elijah in his ministry. And someone else (7,000 someone else-s in fact!) WERE being faithful. Not only had God been with Elijah in the past, God had been preparing the future for Elijah to receive rest, and for others to rise up and carry on. He could have shouted this message from the mountaintop. But He wanted to whisper His message of hope to a faithful prophet who needed quiet reassurance after a difficult battle.
I don’t know what God wants to whisper to me (or to you) today. But I pray that we will have ears to hear, and hearts to respond. And God will whisper to us, whether we just defeated an army of enemies, or just woke up from a much needed nap! He will gently remind us that He loves us in our tantrums just as He loves us in our victories. And He will whisper, because that’s how close He really is in our every moment!
Across from our shop, there is a mural that tells the story of the first “Orphan Train.” In October of 1854, 45 children– some orphaned, others abandoned–arrived in southwest Michigan from New York City. Conditions for such children in the large cities were dangerous. Floods of immigrants included children who had lost their parents on the voyage to America, or who had been separated from their families upon arrival. There were very few orphanages, and almost no resources dedicated to child welfare. Hunger, disease, crime, and exposure to the elements meant that many children never lived to maturity. Most of them lived on the streets; ignored, preyed upon, or simply forgotten. A group called the Children’s Aid Society, founded in 1853, had tried helping children– especially boys–but their limited resources were overwhelmed within the first year.
Section of the Orphan Train Mural, Dowagiac, Michigan (Ruth Andrews)
It was the idea of a man named Charles Loring Brace that large numbers of these children could escape the dangerous environs of the city and find safety and hope in the expanding “West.” With the help of the new railroads, groups of children could travel west, where kind-hearted families could adopt them. Food, shelter, education, fresh air, opportunity, and a loving family- this was the promise of the orphan train. For some children, it was the start of a wonderful new life. For some, it was trading a hard life in the city for a hard life on the frontier.
I can only imagine how frightening it must have been for the first train-load of orphans to travel here. Few people had ever traveled by train in those days. Some of the children had never traveled more than a few blocks from where they had been born– had never seen a farm or a forest. Part of their journey was on a steamboat. The journey would not have been comfortable, but it would have been exciting and even terrifying at times. They had no guarantee of finding homes or families who would be willing to take care of them– only the hope that someone might.
What does this have to do with prayer? Well, the obvious connection would be that everyone involved with this venture must have prayed diligently. All 45 children were placed with local families in that first journey. And the success of this first placement encouraged future endeavors. The “orphan trains” ran for 75 years, and carried nearly a quarter of a million children to new homes throughout the growing United States. And while not every child found a “happy ending” with their new family, most of them survived to create a new life as adults–an opportunity many other orphans had been denied.
But it struck me today, as I was looking at the mural and thinking about the fate of these children, that we are or were all in a similar situation. I am so thankful to be able to pray to my Loving Father– but there was a time when I was lost and without hope. There was a time when Sin had made me an orphan. I was alone and frightened and helpless to save myself. Like the orphans in first part of the mural, I was sick and sad, my best intentions were no more than tattered rags. Even as they line up to board the train, their faces show fear and pain.
It can be frightening to call out to God– frightening to leave the life we know, even when it is dangerous and unhealthy. God’s way takes us to uncomfortable and unfamiliar places–we can’t see the road ahead, and we don’t know what our “new” life will be like.
As I gaze once again at the mural, the last section shows an idealized version of the “new life” experienced by the riders of the “Orphan Train.” It shows a groups of children in a circle, holding hands and playing in the sunshine among grass and trees, while a bird flutters nearby. It is a heavenly place– the children’s clothes are clean, and they look healthy and happy. And while this is an ideal, rather than the reality for some of the children, it is a reminder of the contrast with the life they left behind.
Thanks be to God for His Grace that rescues us from the ravages of Sin. He offers us an escape to a new life– complete with a new family and a glorious hope of Heaven. He offers full adoption– guaranteed by the blood of His own Son– for those who will choose to leave their old life of Sin behind and travel as an orphan on His own “Orphan Train.”
4 I mean that the heir, as long as he is a child, is no different from a slave, though he is the owner of everything, 2 but he is under guardians and managers until the date set by his father. 3 In the same way we also, when we were children, were enslaved to the elementary principles of the world. 4 But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, 5 to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. 6 And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!”
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.”(Matthew 5:6) I’m looking at the Beatitudes and how they can relate to our prayer life. Today, I’m looking at the fourth in the series, shown above.
I recently found out that I am diabetic. I’m trying to lose weight and eat in ways that will help manage my body’s response to carbohydrates. And I find that when I feel hungry, I seem to crave all the wrong things! I miss pasta and chocolate and a large sized Coca Cola from the drive-thru. I don’t normally crave steamed cauliflower or unsalted nuts when I’m hungry. There’s nothing inherently wrong or “evil” about pasta, or chocolate chip cookies, or even sugary drinks. But they can crowd out the nutrients that my body needs, making me bloated and yet feeling like I didn’t get “enough” to eat. I don’t crave the nutrients– I crave the taste. I don’t hunger for the fuel my body needs; instead, I hunger for the flavors I want, or the quick burst of energy I feel from sugar and carbs.
And the same can be said for Righteousness. Most of us do not truly hunger or thirst for righteousness on our own. We crave comfort, or affirmation, or control of our circumstances. Even in our prayer life– even as we say the words, “Thy will be done”– we are usually asking for our own wishes or desires to be fulfilled. “Help me get this job.” “Change my neighbor’s attitude.” “Fix the problem…” We want to BE righteous, but our appetite leads us to compromise and complacency. The end result is that we feel unfulfilled, even resentful and restless.
Jesus promises that those who hunger and thirst after righteousness will be filled. We will not be left with the gnawing feelings of guilt and shame and regret, or left feeling unfulfilled and dissatisfied. What kind of diet will lead to this “filled” feeling? Chewing on God’s Word! Have you ever noticed how often in the Bible God uses food imagery in relation to His Word? “Taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8). “How sweet are Thy words unto my taste! Yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth” (Psalm 119:103) “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4b). And there are dozens of other examples throughout both Testaments.
When I come to prayer wanting more of God and less of my own “cravings,” it changes my perspective– and my appetite. My desire is no longer for convenience or temporary comfort, but to be closer to God– to enter into His Righteousness. My other desires start to change to align with His will. Instead of praying to get a particular job, I begin to pray that God will lead me to do my best at whatever job I have (or that I will eventually get). Instead of wanting my neighbor to change, I will begin to look for ways God wants me to change my response to my neighbor. Instead of just wanting to lose weight, I will begin praying about ways I can honor God in the way I eat (and exercise and take care of my body).
So I need to ask, “What am I really hungry for today?”
Pursuing Prayer 