“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:4-7 NIV)
Last night I went for a long walk while listening to the spot-on message of Craig Groeschel. He’s in a series called Anxious for Nothing and the podcast was entitled “When You’ve Had Enough.” I clicked on it because I’m there. This season has stretched into almost four seasons: it began in a blizzard and yesterday I found a bright yellow leaf clinging to my patio bricks.
Craig talked about the Prophet Elijah and how he had done fierce spiritual battle with 850 prophets of Baal. I remembered. I stood on Mount Carmel myself, just a few months back, overlooking the Valley of Meggido and feeling strange kinship with the prophet of old. Every committed Christian engages in battle with the enemy at some point. Elijah had won, but his victory lap was short-lived as Queen Jezebel started making murderous threats. He did what all exhausted people tend to do: he turned tail and fled.
“Elijah was afraid and ran for his life.” (1 Kings 19:3)
Our triumphant prophet ran to the wilderness of Beersheba, almost ninety miles from the screaming queen, where he found a broom tree, sat down in it’s shade and begged to die.
Our God wouldn’t let him breathe his last there, under the weight of anxiety and the shade of the broom tree. Instead, God sent an angel to minister to his real needs: food, water, rest. Then God spoke to His prophet, not in the wind, nor in the earthquake, or even from the fire, but in a still small voice.
Last night Craig Groeschel reminded me of two very important truths: God is near and He whispers through ordinary things. He wasn’t in the dramatic demonstrations, those only served as attention-getters. He pulled the prophet close and whispered. There’s an intimacy in a whisper that cannot be recreated in a show and in a shout. Our God longs to be close with us, even in our times of desperation. He longs to tell us unsearchable things; truths too precious to be shouted from the rooftops for the world to hear but instead to be whispered in the ear as secrets often are.
I read this story of Elijah and I think about my own story: first faithfulness in hard battle followed by deep anxiety about the future. Today I see how God has sustained us under the broom tree. It’s been six long months out of the pulpit, out of our purpose. His plans for us in the interim have been just like His plans for Elijah: food, water, rest. His provision has been miraculous and now, well-fed and well-rested, we are confident of His close proximity and awaiting His whisper.
I was on the back patio, shucking corn into a brown paper bag when Craig’s truth rang the loudest in my ears: “In times of great stress, God doesn’t speak to us through extraordinary things, but ordinary things.” I looked down at the corn cob being exposed in my hand: little rows of kernels lined up like half-asleep soldiers; the sweetest corn you’ll ever wrap your face around. All this sweetness spoken into existence when a single seed submitted to God’s plan and allowed itself to be buried alive.
My life of late has been just like that kernel of corn. This season, dark and painful: will produce a hundredfold, a thousandfold if I’ll continue to cooperate with the process. If I don’t give up. If I keep pulling close to the Spirit of God, He’ll sustain. He’ll speak. He whispers this truth in the ordinary task of preparing supper, but it’s enough to feed me for days.
“Listen carefully, unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you’ll have it forever, real and eternal.” (John 12:24-25 MSG)
Lord, we don’t enjoy times of high stress and sometimes we find ourselves spent and afraid under the broom tree, ready to die. Thank You for meeting us there, in our lowest moments, ready to revive and sustain, close enough to whisper something precious. Help us give full attention not to the wind or quake or fire, but to the ordinary, awaiting Your instruction. May we be willing to die for Your plans, confident in Your good will forever. Amen.
If you’d like to watch the full message by Craig Groeschel:
https://www.life.church/media/anxious-for-nothing/when-youve-had-enough/