“So
he arose and went to Zarephath. And when
he came to the gate of the city, behold, the widow woman was there gathering of
sticks: and he called to her, and said, Fetch me, I pray thee, a little water
in a vessel, that I may drink. And as she was going to fetch it, he called to
her, and said, Bring me, I pray thee, a morsel of bread in thine hand.
And she said, As the
LORD thy God liveth, I have not a cake, but an handful of meal in a barrel, and
a little oil in a cruse: and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go
in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die.
And Elijah said unto
her, Fear not; go and do as thou hast said: but make me thereof a little cake
first, and bring it unto me, and after make for thee and for thy son. For thus
saith the LORD God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall
the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the LORD sendeth rain upon the earth.
And she went and did
according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat many
days. And the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail,
according to the word of the LORD, which he spake by Elijah.”
This story from 1
Kings is very familiar to me. I’ve read it many times. I’ve heard it preached
from the perspective of both the prophet and the widow. Just the other day I
got a new insight on this scripture. I was led by the Spirit to think from the
perspective of the barrel. I was in one of those melancholy moods that come
over me from time to time. I know there are people who never lament over the rocky
road life chooses, but I’m not one of them. That day, my particular shortcomings
were center stage among the woes on my mind. Yet, despite my oblivious flaws, everyone
wanted something from me. I was empty. No one seemed to care; the requests kept
coming and disasters kept springing up. I had nothing more to give—or so I
thought.
That’s when the
Spirit brought this story to mind along with the startling revelation that I
was that meal barrel. It seems that, unnoticed by me, there was a small measure
of meal stuck to the bottom of the barrel. I was reminded, “the
barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail, according to the
word of the LORD…” The sun came out. The birds began to sing and the curly
headed boy beside me found comfort by holding my ear. I can’t say I was full,
but I knew the little I had been given was enough and that it would never fail
to sustain me and mine through any drought.
