Reason #255

Then the Lord said to Elijah, “Go and live in the village of Zarephath, near the city of Sidon. I have instructed a widow there to feed you.”
 

So he went to Zarephath. As he arrived at the gates of the village, he saw a widow gathering sticks, and he asked her, “Would you please bring me a little water in a cup?” As she was going to get it, he called to her, “Bring me a bite of bread, too.”
 

But she said, “I swear by the Lord your God that I don’t have a single piece of bread in the house. And I have only a handful of flour left in the jar and a little cooking oil in the bottom of the jug. I was just gathering a few sticks to cook this last meal, and then my son and I will die.”
 

But Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid! Go ahead and do just what you’ve said, but make a little bread for me first. Then use what’s left to prepare a meal for yourself and your son. For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: There will always be flour and olive oil left in your containers until the time when the Lord sends rain and the crops grow again!”
 

 

So she did as Elijah said, and she and Elijah and her family continued to eat for many days. There was always enough flour and olive oil left in the containers, just as the Lord had promised through Elijah.

 

1 Kings 17:8-15

 

A drought had come. Dry, barren land. No water to quench thirsts, to water crops, to satisfy, and death began to taunt. Hopelessness set it as she realized the reality of her circumstances. Looking into the face of tragedy and seeing no way out. So she began to prepare herself for the worst because things looked bleak. Why fantasize, why try to pretend, she was being a realist and the jar was half empty, almost gone. There was only a bit left. Enough to provide for her one more time, to settle the grumbling of stomachs for one last day. Enough to give her energy to get through one more sunrise and one more sunset. Used up, to the end.  If only she had known this drought was coming she would have rationed her flour and oil during the season of abundance. If only she had known she was going to be facing dire circumstances, she would have been more careful with her supply. But she didn't know, she couldn't see into the future. All she could do was bake what she needed each day. And now, she was left with hardly anything. And I have to believe she tried every way possible to save that last bit, that small handful. I bet she thought long and hard about how she would use what was left, so I can only imagine that this woman was heartbroken as she saw that this was really the end.

 

And now, this man enters asking for something so precious. He wanted the little bit she had left. Really? Asking for the last of what she had, what little she had, the nerve. So much oil had been used up already. She didn't have enough to give to someone else. She needed every last bit that was in the jar. She was desperate for this one last meal, already making plans of how it would be spent, so sharing it seemed like a crazy idea. This was her oil and flour, after all. She had worked for this, saved it, and she should get to keep it. She had one person depending on her and no one to provide for her. I'm sure the pressure was heavy and mounting as there was no rain in the forecast. A widow woman, the lowest of low, useless in the eyes of society, and hardly capable to provide for herself. So why would this man come to her, of all people, for food? Didn't he know her situation? Couldn't he clearly see her challenges and sense her pain? Why would he ask so much of someone who had hardly anything to give?

 

But there was this promise. Give what you have and you won't run out. This seems contrary, unbelievable. This was going to take faith, and a lot of it, at that. Pour out your jar, every last horded drop, yes, empty it, and trust. And then, take that fist-full of flour, that sacred flour that you've held on to for as long as possible, and give it up. And so she did it. Maybe she was to the point of desperation and that's why she took her chances. After all, what did she have to lose. Either way, death was inevitable. By having one more meal, she was just prolonging death for one more day. Maybe, by giving this last meal away, death would come sooner and the pain and agony would be over. But maybe there was something about this man that was convincing. Maybe it was the way he spoke, the words he said, the sincerity in his eyes. Maybe this woman had been praying for help, for an answer, and she finally heard it though the words of this stranger. And so she chose to trust him. She chose to follow his crazy advice. Advice that made absolutely no sense. Advice that went totally and completely against any form of human logic and rationale. She gave him all she had. She poured out that oil and flour and she served this man. She presented him with this final meal. And I wonder if the tears fell as she completely emptied her jars. I wonder if sobs escaped from her mouth as she thought about what was going to happen. Because I bet she never envisioned herself in this situation. I bet she never thought it would really come to this. And so, I wondered if she wiped away tears from her face as she offered this meal, made from all she had been holding on to, to a man who was asking a lot, asking for everything she had even though it wasn't much.

 

And then a remarkable thing happened. The promise came true, and her jars were filled. Empty jars that had been poured out were now filled. Jars that had been hording and containing things that she didn't want to let go of, things she was hesitant to give up, were now filled to the brim with new, fresh ingredients. Replaced with things that were going to last rather than run out too soon leaving her in another desperate and hopeless situation. And not only did she have enough for herself, but she had enough for others. Filled up and overflowing so that she could share. When she came to the end of herself, the end of what she had, and when she let it all go, things turned around. When the unthinkable happened and she, herself, continued to do unthinkable things that didn't add up at the time, then the unimaginable happened. Who would have thought that emptying out jars would lead to abundance?

 

I know how she felt. I didn't want to let go of what little I had, either. I didn't have much to offer, really, I didn't. A tiny bit here and tiny bit there. It was enough to get me through a small portion of the drought, but it wasn't going to last me very long. I knew it. I knew I was looking death in the face. Physical death, no, but a death none the less. The situation was bleak and I cried as I finally poured my jars out. Why would you ask for this? This is all I have? Why do you want to take this from me? Can't you see how hopeless my situation looks? But He asked me for it, and He promised me it wouldn't be wasted, it wouldn't go in vain. So I sobbed as I laid on my bedroom floor and poured out that last drop. I wiped the tears away from my eyes because I really didn't think it would come to this, I really didn't. And truth be told, I was terrified. Afraid to give any of it up because my resouces had been depleted and I just didn't see how this was going to do any good. How could He do much with so little? And my heart broke even more as I realized it was really the end.

 

But the Provider filled my jars, too. And I realized there was a reason He was asking for me to pour out what I had, to give it up. He was going to fill my jars. Fill them to the brim. In fact, fill them to the point of overflowing so that I could share. Because He knew exactly what I needed and how much to give me, and He knew that hording my little portion wasn't going to get me far. He saw exactly how hopeless and desperate I was and so He asked. "Give me what you have, let go of it, and let me fill your jars. Let me give you what you need rather than what you think you need. Trust me. It doesn't make sense to you right now, but trust me and you'll see." Jehova Jira, He took what I had, what little I had, and He gave me so much more. He multiplied it when I gave it up. But sometimes, that's what we have to do. We have to empty ourselves, rid ourselves of the things we're clinging so desperately to so that He can pour His goodness into our lives. And He'll take it, He'll take how ever much we have, and He'll replace it with more than we can imagine. Sometimes, we have to go through the unthinkable so that we can experience the unimaginable.

 

So I thought of her today as I drove to work. I thought of jars and oil and blessings and emptiness. I thought of pouring out and being filled. And I was reminded that He'll do it everytime. When we begin to feel empty, when we just aren't sure how we're going to get through, we pour it out at His feet. We let that last drop fall, we trust and believe that He'll take what little we give to Him, and then we stand amazed at what He does. Because when you come to the end, when it feels like you're giving up all you've got, just do it, because really, the end is a new beginning. Empty jars were meant to be filled.

 

#255 - Because He fills our empty jars so that they never run out.

 

"You have shown me the way of life, and you will fill me with the joy of your presence." - Acts 2:28