When Provision Disappears

In high school, I planned to become an orthopedic surgeon. As a committed athlete, I had spent my share of time in a doctor’s office getting wrists and knees and fingers repaired. Over time, I began to grow in my fascination for how the human body worked, and also for my doctor’s Rolex.

Living in the home of a pastor, we were far from wealthy. My mom had her own business, which helped pay our bills, but my parents frequently told stories of life near poverty when I was younger. In middle school, I was the kid who wore sneakers from Payless Shoe Store in the mall while my friends wore Nike Air Jordans. Our vacations were camping trips to national parks.

While there were many moments of financial frustration between me and my parents, I noticed over time that, while we had very little, we always had everything we needed. We never went hungry, my brothers and I could play sports, and, while not designer, we always had clean clothes to wear. My dad remained faithful to his call to ministry, and the Lord remained faithful to us.

In the middle of this faithfulness, while I was in middle school, my father was unable to continue serving in a dysfunctional church.  Though this one actually paid him fairly, they treated him poorly. My parents decided that being faithful to the Lord meant leaving that salary behind, and we relocated to my grandparent’s dairy farm. We moved from a place of provision and public ministry to a quiet place in the countryside of northeastern Pennsylvania. Dad went from having a platform to preach from, to a pasture to sit in.

What happens when following the Lord means the comfort goes away? Can we still trust him to provide when his previous provision seems to disappear? We’re going to look at when that happens to Elijah this Sunday. Fresh from a public confrontation before evil King Ahab, God tells Elijah to head to the wilderness to drink from a seasonal creek. Can Elijah trust God to continue to provide for his needs as the drought he announced sets in? Can we?