1 Kings 17:17–19
17 Some time later the woman’s son became sick. He grew worse and worse, and finally he died. 18 Then she said to Elijah, “O man of God, what have you done to me? Have you come here to point out my sins and kill my son?”
19 But Elijah replied, “Give me your son.” And he took the child’s body from her arms, carried him up the stairs to the room where he was staying, and laid the body on his bed.
She stands there, tears streaming down her face, holding the body of her son in her arms. And at that precise moment, Elijah holds out his arms and says, “Give him to me.”
He said to her, “Give me your son.” Then he took him from her bosom and carried him up to the upper room where he was living, and laid him on his own bed. (1 Kings 17:19)
There the woman stands, holding the limp, lifeless body of her only child. Her world has come crashing down, suddenly and unexpectedly. And Elijah simply says, “Give him to me.”
Do you know what really impresses me here? It’s the silence of Elijah. Somehow he knows that nothing he can say at this moment will satisfy this grieving mother. No words from him can soothe her stricken spirit. So he does not argue with her. He does not rebuke her. He does not try to reason with her. He doesn’t remind her of all she owes him or of how ashamed she should be for blaming him. He simply asks her to place her burden in his arms.
Pause for a moment to realize that Elijah is again in a situation that, at least from a human point of view, he doesn’t deserve. He has obeyed God by going to Ahab then hiding at Cherith. He has walked with God from Cherith to Zarephath. He has done exactly as the Lord instructed, He’s trusted God, and now he’s receiving the brunt of this woman’s blame.
God sometimes seems to put us in the vise, and then He tightens it and tightens it more, until we think, in the pain of His sovereign squeeze, “What’s He trying to do to me?” We walk closer to Him and even closer to Him. We don’t see how we could walk any closer, but still more tests come, one on top of another.
That’s where Elijah is, but he doesn’t waver. He stands tall and silent in the shadow of God, grounded in faith, confident of his Lord’s power. That’s humility at its best.
He doesn’t question God. He doesn’t fall apart at the seams. He doesn’t lose control. He doesn’t argue with the woman. He simply says, with quiet compassion, “Give me the boy.”
Stand tall with faith in God, confident of His power. That’s humility at its best.
— Charles R. Swindoll