Get up and eat


Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. When he came to Beersheba in Judah, he left his servant there, while he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, LORD,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.” Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep. All at once an angel touched him and said, “Get up and eat.” 1 Kings 19:3-5 NIV

I always like Elijah, ever since I was told flannelgraph stories in Sunday School and later while I read my comic strip Bible.  He is one bad dude.  I mean, c'mon, he gets to go to heaven by a fiery chariot! Pretty cool.

I was thinking of Elijah today.  I can't say I have done anything exciting like he did-show up a false god's prophets or become enemy #1 in a nation-but I can relate to his spiritual exhaustion, his fear of the future.  I have been feeling that deep fatigue and missing the past-people, experiences, my dog.  Some people regret their past; I am grieving its loss. 

Today, as I reluctantly crossed the church parking lot, not feeling very spiritual, just empty, I prayed that I was doing all I could putting one foot in front of the other.  If God needed more from me, it couldn't happen.  I had nothing to offer.  And I thought of Elijah, falling beneath that tree, wishing he could die and be done with the struggle.  God wasn't ready for that, though, and instead woke him to feed him.  "You will have to care for me, too, Father," I whispered through a twinge of guilt at the simple struggle that is causing me to falter.

Even when I walk through the darkest valley [death],  I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Psalm 23:4 NLT

Worship is numb, until the tears flow.  I swallow the bitter understanding that while I believe You can do anything, You do not.  You are quiet when I need You to say that word, to heal my heart.

...but only say the word, and my servant shall be healed Matt 8:8 ASV

As the gathering comes to a close, we celebrate communion together.  While I look at the juice and the bread that I hold in my hands, I remember Elijah again.  You have fed me, restored me, with Your own body, Your own blood.  And, You said the words:“It is finished.”  Just as You surrended Your spirit in that moment, I, too, surrender mine.  I am tired, but I will rest in You-Your comfort found in Your word, Your sustenance of mercy, Your help through friends who love me as I cry.  I want sometimes to be angry with You, but I can't seem to muster the energy.  My gratitude cancels too much of it out.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Christ in His Distressing Disguise

Image
When I was much younger, I learned about this remarkable woman, Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, then simply known as Mother Teresa. As a teenager herself, she had chosen to serve God by leaving her home in the former Yugoslavia to go practically around the world to India and become a nun. There she taught school, but she was distracted by the poor on the streets. Longing to care for them, she needed to be released from her teaching duties. Eventually a new religious order, the Missionaries of Charity, was formed by Mother Teresa to serve them, the poorest of the poor. I wonder today what attracted me to her. I didn't know much about India. The pictures of the suffering, the cachetic bodies that barely resembled humans, puzzled me. Growing up with movies and air brushed photographs, as well as a skepticism of news and government organizations, it can be hard to believe. How can there be such incredible suffering in my world? Mother Teresa was doing God's work; I know that was exciti
Read more

Blog Carnival-Seasons

Image
It was all so much simpler in my spring.  I suppose it is for everyone.  That is why babies and puppies and newness are squealed over.  I have been struggling.  Spring has long gone.  The leaves are falling. I loved what I had, what once defined me. Without it now, I feel like a crab without a shell-              vulnerable...                            homeless...                                           dry in spirit. I know, that all is not lost. I know, things change. I know, that God,              who brought me from there to there once,              will bring me from here to there again. I know, the story is not over. I know, the season will change, again. I wish my heart knew all this as well. Check out more blog entries on Seasons at the Carnival .
Read more

Blog Carnival: Community

Image
Blog Carnival: Community Community is getting to be a buzzword that hardly seems recognizable.  It has become permanently connected with a metrosexual worship leader at the hip church which has an outreach into some impoverished place.  But is that community? Yesterday I wrote about Facebook's social networking site.  Did you know that there are more than 300 million active users and that 50% of their active users (returned to the site in the last 30 days) log on to Facebook in any given day and that the average user has 130 friends on the site? Is that community? Do we really have a community or do we talk so much about it and request friends by the busload because we desire it intensely? We were made for community.  Creator said it was not good for that first man to be alone.  Even Creator was not alone.  We need to walk with others.  We need our village.  We need them to not only walk with us and love us and share our burdens, but to challenge us, to force us to grow.
Read more