No God-Forsaken Places (wrap up)

So . . . there are no God-forsaken places.

I've got solid biblical grounds for saying so - but I'm not in the hospital now, I'm not stationed in Iraq now, I like where I live and what I do. Easy for me to say.

Still, my hunch is that what we call "God-forsaken" has little to do with what we really believe about the presence or absence of God. The pain we feel as "forsaken-ness" comes from the absence of ourselves. By that I mean to say that what we call God-forsaken is in actuality any place or circumstance beyond my control and the exercise of my will to change it and shape it. It's a place or situation void of me. God may be very much involved.

Back to Elijah at the Kerith Ravine. The story is found in 1 Kings 17. Honestly, the details are sparse. We don't know where the place is or what it was like. What we do know about this season in the prohet's life makes two things clear. First, Elijah isn't doing much. Second, God is doing plenty. And maybe that's the point of all so-called God-forsaken places.

The only thing we really see happening at the Kerith Ravine is not of the prophet's doing, but of God's. God tells Elijah that in this place of hiding ravens will arrive daily with bread and meat. Every morning, the ravens bring breakfast. Every evening, the ravens bring dinner. Elijah does not grow his own food, and he does not work to earn it. He waits by the brook. He hides. He sits in quiet obscurity and lives by grace.

In our God-forsaken places we too learn to what it means to depend entirely on God. We may not like where we are. We may find it hostile or boring. We may resent it because we never wanted or expected to be where we are and with every passing day we're convinced that our lives are being wasted. But God has a purpose in those places. He renders us still and then he provides - day after day, morning and evening, showing himself faithful.

God seems intent on teaching us to rely on him and him alone for our well being. Even when we embrace the difficult place we usually do so while formulating our plan for escape. Yes, this is not where we want to be, not where we planned to be - but it can't last forever. Soon we'll find another place that suits us. But the next place doesn't always hold up under the weight of our hopes.

Elijah eventually moves. His relocation is brought about by two factors that often work closely together. For one thing, practical circumstances dictated that it was time to move on. The brook where Elijah had been hiding and from which he had drawn water began to dry up. God was keeping his word. There was no rain in the land and not even Elijah was immmune from the impact of drought. Elijah had to go. But in addition to the dictates of circumstance, the move was directed by God's word and God's will. "Go at once to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there" (1 Kings 17:9).

Zarephath is hardly a move "up the ladder." The water of the brook and food supplied by ravens is replaced by a widow's meager provisions. She has a handful of flour and a little oil in a jug. No health care plan for the prophet here. Barely enough for the woman and her son. But again, Elijah in Zarephath continues to know what it means to live by grace - the lesson of the Kerith Ravine is being taught all over again.

Maybe the place we dream of is a place where we can be just fine without God. That's precisely where God will not take us. It's our sin that makes us yearn for such a place - the old garden of Eden lie. And from time to time we find ourselves in the difficult place, the unexpected place. We join the prophet Elijah in learning (again) to live by grace. And grace is there. We need help in seeing it. Then we can say with Jacob "surely the Lord is in this place and I was not aware of it" (Genesis 28:16).