Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Pastor Chuck Swindoll

No words can describe what happened in that little upstairs bedroom when the corpse began to stir and Elijah saw life returning to the boy's body. No words can describe being in the midst of such a trial and then watching God, in a miraculous moment or period of time, work it out.

That was some prayer. Elijah was not able to say, "Let this child's life return to him, as it happened to Enoch, as it happened to Isaac, as it happened to Moses," because there was no precedence for this particular miracle. So Elijah said, "Lord, I'm trusting You for a miracle."

Now wait a minute. What is going on here? Up to this point in Scripture, there has been no account of anyone ever being raised from the dead. The closest to that would be Enoch, but he was not resurrected or resuscitated, because he didn't die.

I'm deeply impressed by the man's gentleness. Though Elijah deserved none of the woman's blame, he stood silent under her blast. That's gentleness. Someone, somewhere, has called this fruit of the Spirit "the mint-mark of heaven."

She stands there, tears streaming down her face, holding the body of her son in her arms. And at that precise moment, Elijah holds out his arms and says, "Give him to me."

Elijah had walked into a situation that was, from all human perspective, impossible. But the good news is that he saw beyond the difficulty. He handled the problem with faith, not fear. Elijah was determined that those initial first-impression blues were not going to get him down.

As we did earlier, let's first examine the significance of the name of this place where the prophet was told to go. Zarephath comes from a Hebrew verb that means "to melt, to smelt." Interestingly, in noun form it means "crucible."

Part of every boot camp experience is the grueling, grinding, and sometimes daunting obstacle course. It is neither fun nor easy, but its demanding discipline prepares the recruit for whatever situations he or she may face in the future, particularly under enemy fire.

Elijah was in a tough spot. A life-threatening spot. The brook had dried up. Had God forgotten His faithful servant? Has God forgotten you? Has He left you all alone? The God who gives water can also withhold water. That's His sovereign right.

One morning Elijah noticed that the brook wasn't gushing over the rocks or running as freely as it had in days past. Since that single stream of water was his lifeline, he checked it carefully. Over the next few days he watched it dwindle and shrink, until it was only a trickle.

The ravens were God's catering service, delivering provisions to His prophet. "The ravens will bring in your food, Elijah." Isn't that incredible? God makes provision for Elijah's physical welfare during this time of seclusion. But He also provides for his spiritual welfare.

God's direction includes God's provision. God says, "Go to the brook. I will provide." Vance Havner, in his book, It Is Toward Evening, tells the story of a group of farmers who were raising cotton in the Deep South when the devastating boll weevil invaded the crops.

Any recruit who has been through boot camp can tell you that every hour of the day someone is ordering you where to go, when to be there, what to do, and how to survive. That's a vital part of basic training. And God did the same for His prophet.

As we read those words and try to imagine the original setting, we begin to see the surprising nature of God's plan. The most logical arrangement, seemingly, would be to keep Elijah in the king's face--to use the prophet as a persistent goad.

'I am going to cut you down to size!' If I heard that once during the ten weeks I spent in a U.S. Marine Corps boot camp more than forty-five years ago, I must have heard it a dozen times. As I recall, those words formed the theme of the opening speech.

God keeps His promises. It's a major part of His immutable nature. He doesn't hold out hope with nice-sounding words, then renege on what He said He would do. God is neither fickle nor moody. And He never lies.

God's methods are often surprising. God did not raise up an army to destroy Ahab and Jezebel. Neither did He send some scintillating prince to argue His case or try to impress their royal majesties. Instead, God did the unimaginable—He chose somebody like . . . well, like Elijah.

God looks for special people at difficult times. God needed a special man to shine the light in the blackness of those days. But God didn't find him in the palace or the court. He didn't find him walking around with his head down in the school of the prophets.

We're first introduced to him as 'Elijah the Tishbite' (1 Kings 17:1). Talk about stepping out of nowhere! Elijah came out of this insignificant place--out of nowhere--to make such a significant contribution to God's plan for His people that he became one of Israel's most famous heroes.

Finally, and naturally, David falls on his knees and utters a beautiful prayer, an extemporaneous expression of his worship of the Lord God. The first verses are expressions of praise. Praise leaves humanity out of the picture and focuses fully on the exaltation of the living God.