For the month of December, I’m linking up with Emily Freeman at Chatting at the Sky for Tuesdays Unwrapped. It’s a time to celebrate the ordinary in our lives, for that is where the extraordinary dwells.
Part of living a life of Feasting is not letting moments go unnoticed, but rather embracing them. Beauty and wonder is found in a sunset as well as scraping off last night’s dinner from a plate, if we’ll only look. I invite you to celebrate your ordinary with us each Tuesday as we remember the coming of an extraordinary God wrapped in an ordinary child.
Tucked away in the chapters of 1 Kings, there is a story about a widow clothed in poverty. She has gone unnoticed by so many, forgotten by those around her.
When Elijah comes to her and asks, “Will you bring me a cup of water? And some bread, too?”
She wearily replies, “I only have a little flour and a little oil left. I’m going home to make the last meal for me and my son, and then we’re going to die.” She feels forgotten and abandoned.
Elijah responds, “You can do all that, just bring me bread first.” Really sensitive, Elijah.
She is incredulous at his response, but she does what he asks, and to her surprise, she finds that she has enough oil. And then the next day, when her hope is as dry as what she expects her jar of oil to be, she finds yet more oil. This pattern continues for a period of time.
I have been sleepless and anxious, with my forehead crinkled in early morning prayer at the future. Will I have enough? What if we don’t have enough? What if we are empty? What if we don’t have what we need?
But my dear friend in China reminded me over Skype Saturday morning of this story in 1 Kings. When the widow went to her jar each morning, when she wondered if she would have enough oil, she remembered yesterday.
She had had enough. Someone had not forgotten her.
Today she had enough. Tomorrow was not her concern. She had enough for today.
Yesterday, I had enough. Today, I have enough. We have not been forgotten.
God does not always deliver enough food for five thousand people if there are not five thousand people to feed. Right now there are two people in my home, just like with the widow and her son. We will have enough.
So my rejoicing in the ordinary is that I have enough for today. As I reach for my figurative jar of oil and literal little pot of flour, I know that He has provided enough for my family today. He provided enough for yesterday. He will provide what I need.