Where does God meet us? And how do we know he’s there? Is he easier to notice when we rejoice in abundant blessings? Is his presence more palpable when we are broken beyond hope and have nothing to grasp onto but his promises for a brighter future? So often, I find myself thinking that God can only show up in extremes. This works well when life is running like a roller coaster, but is dangerous when life is ordinary. Am I wasting God’s time if I pray when I take out the trash and pick my outfit for the day? Should I expect him in my daily commute or glimpse him in the face of a stranger at the grocery store?
The popular narrative of my millennial upbringing reinforced this “God is in the extremes” message. Please don’t misunderstand—I’m not denying that the following are true statements and amazing promises. But it’s to say that, maybe… this over-hyping of the spectacular keeps us from seeing the glory of the mundane.
When I was growing up, testimonies at youth events or church conferences highlighted vivid and beautiful stories of redemption. Speakers dramatically turned from a life characterized by drugs or violence or sex or (name any “obvious” vice here) to a redeemed and holy life infused with the love of Jesus. Missionaries overcame incredible adversity to bring the Gospel to unreached people groups. Invalids found healing after decades of crippling pain.
Messaging included thoughts like this: You’re SPECIAL. Just like these speakers, you too can accomplish GREAT things for God! He has uniquely SPECTACULAR plans in mind just for you! Expect the power of God to move in MIGHTY ways. Just ask, and you will receive abundantly.
This is awesome! But, what if my life looks drearily normal? I have living, monogamous parents who successfully kept me on the straight and narrow. No drugs, no crazy boyfriends, no extraordinary familial turmoil or major illness, no moment I doubted my salvation. Yikes. This isn’t shaping up to be any kind of special testimony! And really, if I have no tear-jerking moments, do I even HAVE a testimony? How can I, a boringly happy nice Christian girl ever be an effective witness for the extraordinary Christian life?
Should we expect the Christian life to be extraordinary?
Maybe.
Let’s see if the story of Elijah in 1 Kings 18-19 helps us answer this question. We probably remember the crazy, spectacular victory for God that he accomplishes on Mount Carmel, right? Elijah is the only prophet representing the Lord, compared to Baal’s 450 prophets (1 Kings 18:22). And yet after a day of ecstatically calling upon Baal (including loud shouts and even slashing themselves with weapons!), they cannot raise a ruckus sufficient to wake up their god. Elijah, on the other hand, receives immediate, blazing acceptance of his sacrifice despite pre-dousing his altar in water. After this amazing spectacle, the people turn to God, the needed rain refreshes the land, and the power of God is confirmed. So far, we see God showing up in an extraordinary, positive way.
So what happens next?
Well, three verses into 1 Kings 19, Elijah, the renowned prophet of the powerful Lord of Hosts, is fleeing for his life (again) and asks the Lord to take his life by verse 19:4! Doesn’t he believe in the amazing promises that he just showed the people?
And how does God show up in this negative extreme of despair? He recognizes Elijah’s need for physical sustenance, feeding him twice. He then calls Elijah to travel on a journey. This is no easy journey—it’s a slow, arduous trek through difficult terrain for 40 days and nights, and the destination is confirmed only after he arrives. We’re primed to expect something big—God sustained Elijah for some important reason, right?
And when the Lord does come to visit Elijah in 19:11-12, what do we see? All the big, exciting, crazy images of judgment. A shrieking wind. A thunderous earthquake. A blazing fire. And God is in none of those extraordinary things. Where is God actually found? A gentle whisper. The underlying Hebrew word translated as “whisper” here appears in other scriptural texts. It could also be translated as silence (Job 4:16) or stillness (Psalm 107:29) depending on the context.
Ugh. Silence is not extraordinary.
And yet this space of still whisper is where Elijah receives his next commission, as well as the promise that the prophetic work will live on through Elisha and that Israel will live on through a remnant of 7,000 faithful followers.
This story reminds us that, yes, God met Elijah in glorious highs and desperate lows. But his presence communed directly with Elijah in neither of these spectacular spaces. Rather, God spoke to him in the peaceful aftermath of spectacle.
As we think about how this might apply to our own lives, we should probably recognize that we aren’t called to be Elijah. Like Moses before him, he is prefiguring Christ in this story of wilderness wandering. Yet, there are promises in this passage that we can trust.
God provides for physical needs when we feel as if we cannot continue. God is with us when we’re on a long journey without a clear destination. Do we trust that God can sustain us? And once we get there, are we wasting time looking for him in the spectacular and missing the still whisper?
I’m struck by God’s promise that he would preserve 7,000 Israelites who never bowed to Baal. Elijah is convinced throughout the story that he was the only follower left (bemoaning it three times!). God, rather than contradict him each time, gently indicates at the end of his commission that there’s a much larger remnant outside of Elijah’s purview. These faithful Israelites didn’t make themselves known through extraordinary feats. They didn’t cower in fear under a bush, waiting for death to overtake them. Nothing about their experience is sensational enough to give them names or even a spot in the narrative. But their steadfast trust in the faithfulness of God over the difficult years of Ahab’s reign earned them a space in the new kingdom. Ordinary faith, practiced quietly and daily, triumphed.
So for our “ordinary” followers out there, take heart! Our walk may not be filled with earthquakes or fires or screaming Baal worshippers, but those accounted for the experience of only one man in 7,001! May we cultivate the humility to recognize that our life will likely be characterized by the anonymity of the rest of these faithful Israelites. Let us expect to find God in the normal sustaining grace of a quiet walk with him, trusting that he will guide us to our ultimate destination.
Photo Credit: Ashley Kate Miller
Julie isan engaging learner and educator with a love for inspiring groups of all sizes to learn widely and grow deeply. Presenting content that is both fascinating and fun, she enjoys bringing life to a wide range of topics, from FDA regulations, to German beer brewing history, to the beauty of Scripture expounded across eras of the church to the intricacies of sweater knitting. She is currently studying at Denver Seminary for her M. A. in New Testament, though she remains based in her beloved Cincinnati to grow roots with her amazing friends, family and church.
