Widow at Zarephath

The jar of flour was not spent, neither did the jug of oil become empty, according to the word of the LORD that he spoke by Elijah.

When the heavens were shut
Three and a half years,
Elijah went to a widow and asked for bread.
She had enough flour and oil for a final meal
Before she and her son lay down to die.

Now the story turns strange.
Elijah told her to prepare a little cake for him
First. Then to prepare for herself.

This has always seemed an obvious choice.
I know about fantasy porridge pots that keep boiling;
I know that Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes;
I know the manna from heaven.
And since I can read the whole story in less than a minute,
I have found it easy to pass over the widow’s decision.

But think.

She was of Sidon, not part of the tribes of Israel.
She was a widow, the lone provider for her son.
Here comes a stranger, who tells her
To serve him first, and then go and make her own food.

I wonder at his audacity.
And it unsettles me. Shouldn’t he let her eat first?
I wonder at what point the barrel of flour and cruse of oil
Replenished. I wish immediately, but it seems that
Sometimes faith must go to the limit, waiting
Until the cake was cooked, or even served, before refilling.
I don’t much like this story.

And yet.

Notice God’s hand on it all.
God told Elijah to go to that specific widow.
God had already told that widow to sustain Elijah.
And though she says, “thy God,” and not
“My God,” she obeys both God and that man.

And, for her faith, received food, and a resurrected son.

And Jesus, much later, chastises the people of Capernaum,
Who did not believe him, and, indeed, tried to kill him,
When he reminded them of this widow’s faith
And faithfulness.

Which makes me wonder if, despite all of God’s direction,
Her obedience was impressive and memorable.

As, I suppose, it always is.