Hard Choices

 December 4, 2020

1 Kings 18 opens the Elijah saga with him hiding out by the brook Cherith during a three year drought he brought on by the word of the Lord. The drought got so bad the brook dried up and God sent him to a foreign widow; apparently things were a bit too hot for him in Israel where king Ahab was looking for his head. When Elijah approaches this widow, he asks for a drink of water and some bread. Remember, this was in a drought; water was scarce and therefore precious. And the woman told him she had only enough flour to make a couple small cakes for herself and her son, after which they would starve to death.

Elijah responded with an audacious command: “First make me a cake...afterwards, make some for yourself and your son.” When I put myself in her shoes, I’m pretty sure I would balk at such a statement. Feeding Elijah before herself would have been proper etiquette back then, but her son was starving. “Feed this stranger before taking care of my only son? I don’t think so!” 

God’s ways are often contrary to ours. I might put off taking care of myself to care for a stranger, but my family? That’s another matter altogether! Yet Jesus’ words come to mind: 

“He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me. And he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” —Matthew 10:37 

I wonder how much of God’s supernatural provision I’ve forfeited because I wan’t willing to take care of the stranger before taking care of my own. This is especially convicting during Advent and Christmas. Texts like this shake me. were it not for the abundance of the Lord’s mercies, I would despair of hope. He does not hold our iniquities against us, but receives us for the sake of his Son, upon who’s death and resurrection I depend for salvation. This Elijah story reminds me however, that salvation offered must be received, conditions and all. I cannot lay claim to God’s salvation if I am unwilling to step out in faith to obey the word of the Lord even when it makes no sense and appears to be a death sentence not only for me, but for those I love. I am thankful for this story, even as it challenges me. It reminds me that faith is not an armchair matter, but calls me in the gritty realities of life to make the hard choices that promise an unlikely ending that goes against the grain of everything I know.