Too Great a Journey

 

“Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for you.” 1 Kings 19:7

In 1 Kings, we read the story of Elijah, a mighty prophet, who took a fierce stand for God and found his life on the line. Queen Jezebel had his number, and he was running in fear for his life. Feeling abandoned and alone, Elijah prayed for God to end his life, but He didn’t. Instead, He provided Elijah supernatural rest. The Bible doesn’t say it was supernatural, but I can only imagine that in his darkest hour with his life on the line, the last thing Elijah would have wanted to do was lie down and take a nap. So God provided him a peace that only He can—the “peace that surpasses all understanding”—and Elijah rested.

I love what follows. “And the angel of the Lord came back a second time, and touched him, and said, “Arise and eat, because the journey is too great for you.” The journey is too great for you. God knew. He understood. Even though Elijah was fleeing in fear…even though this great man of God, one who had just smote 450 prophets of Baal, had not the faith to withstand one woman…God was in his midst. Not only was God there, but He met Elijah’s needs…his basic, most physical needs…He met them.

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Standing in my principal’s office that February morning, my world shattered. “Your dad called, Jace. You need to call him back.” I looked desperately at my husband. My dad and I barely talked. Why was he calling me at work? Why was my husband, also a teacher, called to the office with me? I frantically went through scenarios in my head, and the only logical explanation I could come up with was that something had happened to my mom. “Please, God.” I silently begged. “Not my mom…anyone but mom.”

I was 26 years old, but I was still my momma’s baby. She was my rock, my best friend, my prayer warrior…largely my world. I talked to her every day…and most days multiple times. When we ended our conversation the night before, her last words were, “I’ll see you on email tomorrow. I love you.” That was an email that never came…that would never come. That was the last of my mom’s I-love-yous I would ever hear.

After a shaky phone call to my dad, one of my best friends and co-workers met me at my office. As I packed my schoolbag with essentials—a novel, my Bible, three boxes of Girl Scout cookies—she comforted me as only a true sister can. “Buckle your seatbelt,” she said, holding my shoulders and looking me square in the eye. “You’re in for a roller coaster ride.”

And she meant it. How many times throughout the following year did I hear those words echo in my ear? I didn’t feel the journey that awaited me was fair. I didn’t know how to grieve…I didn’t know how to live without my mother. I couldn’t do it. The journey ahead was just too much for me.

But like Elijah, my Father was there. He walked me every step of the way. When I needed comforted, I felt His loving arms wrap around me. When I needed joy, He opened my eyes to see little happinesses surrounding me. When I needed advice, He filled in the gaps with loving friends, who I’d not known.

Through that year, I experienced God in ways I’d never before imagined. Ann Voskamp, author of 1000 Gifts, states, “That which tears open our souls, those holes that splatter our sight, may actually become the thin, open places to see through the mess of this place to the heart-aching beauty beyond. To Him. To the God whom we endlessly crave” (p. 22).

On a cold February morning, my soul was ripped apart. But through the gaping, bleeding wound flowed the soothing healing balm of my Heavenly Father. The journey truly was too much for me, but as I rested in His arms…as I sank back and relaxed in Him…I found strength.