A statuesque pine tree stands in the middle of the pasture on the south side of our house, the frequent resting place of two bald eagles. They sit there for hours. Although there is no nest there, they spend hours sitting in that tree. Perhaps they are hunting. It would be a fantastic place to do so. Camouflaged among the branches, they could train their sharp eyes on the fields below for scampering field mice, gophers, or prairie dogs. But maybe they are just resting, taking a load off their wings for a bit before soaring away to heights other birds can never hope to attain.
It doesn’t really matter why they choose to grace that particular tree. I am simply blessed that they do. Utterly enthralled by their presence, I jump up, run to the window, and simply stare whenever I see them. I am overwhelmed by their grace and strength. Intrigued by their unobtrusive hunting methods. Awed by their quiet confidence. I find myself watching every large bird in flight, hoping to see the eagle soaring through the sky.
Often I am disappointed. Not every large bird traversing the sky is an eagle. There is an overabundance of ravens. I am absolutely not a fan. Unsettling, beady black eyes stare at you from behind pointy black beaks that open only to emit the most obnoxious, abrasive squawking known to mankind. In proper accordance with their relentless noise is their unrefined palate. Ravens eat anything. Literally. Dead animals. Living plants. Previously digested animals and plants. One shudders to think how filthy their beaks must be.
A similar thought must have crossed Elijah’s mind when God told him to head east to the brook Cherith and await the raven supply train. Surely he shuddered at least a little. Even as his actions acquiesced, his spirit must have balked just a bit. Eat food from raven’s beaks? Really?! Ravens were unequivocally etched on the unclean list. Disgusting. Filthy. Unfit to eat. God said so. The same God who spoke quietly, authoritatively from Heaven and said, “Go east. Settle down by the brook Cherith. Drink the water. Don’t worry about food. The ravens are bringing it.” (I Kings 17:3-4; Leviticus 11:15)
The account reads as if he went quietly. Perhaps he did. Maybe Elijah was immune to the attempts of the evil one to derail God’s plan. Perhaps no niggle of doubt troubled his mind. No questions battered his brain. No nagging voice of the evil one plagued his soul. Perhaps Elijah was such a man of undeterred faith that his heart never stuttered when God sent him off on this strange journey. Or perhaps it was a relief to go, a deliverance from the looming furious onslaught.
It had been quite a day for Elijah. He had just left the presence of King Ahab. Their visit had been less than friendly. Elijah had hard things to say. Things neither Ahab nor the people of Israel cared to hear. An indictment of their actions. A pronouncement of impending punishment for the sins they so willingly committed, the idols they so carefully erected. Drought was coming. Severe drought. For years, not one drop of moisture would fall from heaven or spring up from the earth. Streams would evaporate. Wells would go dry. Crops would die. People would perish. (I Kings 17:1)
The news was not well received. It is amazing Elijah was given the opportunity to walk from the palace of his own volition. Ahab must have been violently angry at the news, enraged that a pauper would dare enter his royal presence and pronounce a judgment of such epic proportions in response to the nation’s egregious sins. Sharing the news with his idolatrous wife, Jezebel, only served to further arouse his fury and endanger the prophets of God. Consumed by hate and rage, Jezebel spent the next three years hunting down and slaughtering every prophet of God not carefully hidden in mountain caves. And Ahab, consumed with angry bitterness and seeking revenge, set out in search of Elijah himself.
He couldn’t find him. Maybe he didn’t travel far enough. Maybe he underestimated the mileage Elijah would put between himself and certain death. Maybe Ahab and his posse just weren’t smart enough to follow the offshoots of the Jordan down a little brook called Cherith. Maybe they missed the circling, squawking ravens. Maybe they ignored them because they were just useless, annoying scavengers. (I Kings 17:1-18:19)
It was clearly part of God’s plan. Knowing how the people felt about ravens. Knowing they wouldn’t seek them out to eat them. Knowing they were considered disgusting, annoying, irritating pests, God sent ravens to feed Elijah. It was the perfect cover. No one would think to follow them to his campsite. No one would believe the selfish scavengers were delivering survival rations to the alleged enemy. No group of warriors bent on the capture and killing of a prophet of God would believe a circling raven could possibly be the key to their success. Only an omniscient God could create such a genius plan.
One recent morning as I was combing my hair, I looked out the window beside the mirror and noticed a large bird circling the trees in the pasture. Hope immediately building in my chest, I stood impatiently watching for it to turn into the light. As it came around to land and light glanced off iridescent black feathers, I realized there was no need to stop and stare or wait with bated breath and excited palpitations, it wasn’t the eagle. It was a raven. Disappointed and disgusted, I turned away muttering, “It’s just a dumb raven.”
I wonder if Elijah ever whispered similar words. Stuck there by the dwindling brook Cherith, constantly alone with his thoughts, his prayers, his solitude, did he regularly look to the sky and hope for something other than a raven? New words from God. Coordinates for travel. A different diet plan. As the shadow of a winged creature crossed the ground for the umpteenth time, did Elijah look up to heaven in hopes God was sending an eagle to rescue him, only to find the sky again filled by an ugly raven with a beak full of meat? Did he sigh and mutter, “It’s just another dumb raven”? Or did he realize those awful, dirty, disgusting birds were the wings of God spread in safety over him?
Do you? When things don’t turn out the way you planned, when you can’t see God’s hand, can you trust Him to work all things together for your good? When He chooses to protect you from improper influences, objectionable opportunities, and spiritual slippery slopes by bringing you to a solitary place and feeding your soul by His words alone, do you see only the solitude and alone-ness, or can you see the loving, protecting hand of God? When the answer to your prayer isn’t what you hoped, when the gift doesn’t come in the way you expected, when the outcome rests on someone or something you are hesitant to trust, do your eyes of faith see the goodness of God through the bleak unpleasantness of your situation? If the thing that feeds your soul the most has to come from the place you love the least, would you recognize it as the work of God or see it as just another dumb raven? (Romans 8:28)
I don’t know where you are right now. Perhaps you are hunkered down with Elijah beside a drying creek bed waiting longingly for new direction from God. Maybe you are standing with me, staring out the window, lifting your eyes to the hills, hoping, praying, begging for your faith to become sight. Maybe you are stuck in one of life’s unpleasant, unfortunate situations that seems to be dragging on forever. You are exhausted. You are frustrated. On the verge of giving up, you look up to see the sky once again cluttered with ravens and, even if they are dropping meat and bread to sustain your soul, in helpless frustration and bone-deep weariness you find yourself asking where God is. Is He even there? Is He still listening? Does He see this forsaken place you’ve inhabited for too long? Does He even remember your name?
Oh, Friend, yes! Yes. God is there. He is listening to every word you cry. He knows your name and has a pin dropped at your location. And He knows how long you need to stay there. He knows how long it will take your faith to stop wavering. He knows how much time is necessary for you to fully trust His heart. He knows what it will take for you to find peace and protection in the center of His will. God knows it all. And He is working. Through every obstacle, every irritation, every aggravation of your life. God. Is. Working. Even when you can’t see it. Even when you can’t feel it. Even when your brook runs dry and your bird runs out of food. God. Is. Still. Working. And you can trust Him to take care of you. Even when the bird circling above you is just another dumb raven! (Psalm 34:15; Isaiah 43:1-2; Revelation 2:9; Matthew 10:30; Psalm 27:14; Philippians 2:13; Psalm 55:22)