Relying on Ravens
“And the word of the LORD came to him: ’Depart from here and turn eastward and hide yourself by the brook Cherith, which is east of the Jordan. You shall drink from the brook, and I have commanded the ravens to feed you there.’"—1 Kings 17:2-4
Our God is faithful. When He guides, He also provides. He always provides. He cannot fail. Elijah is the classic case in point. God had decreed drought on the land because of Israel’s idolatrous ways (Deuteronomy 11:16-17). And after Elijah announces the impending drought to the wicked King Ahab, God tells Elijah to go to the brook Cherith, east of the Jordan River, where he will drink and the ravens will feed him. Elijah goes, not knowing how long he will be there, or how long the drought will last. He is commanded to go and he does. And he goes in faith, knowing that God has given a promise of provision. God will provide for him, but he must go first. Often, God will not show Himself until we first take a step of faith in obedience to His command, resting in His promises. As the apostle Paul wrote to the church at Corinth, “for we walk by faith, not by sight”—2 Corinthians 5:7. Our nature is to have everything planned out, our ducks set in a row, and know where and how things are going to be provided for, but in Elijah’s case, God doesn’t do that; He simply commands him to go.
Several years ago, I was serving as a youth pastor in the inner city of Chicago, when I felt the Lord leading me to do three things: (1) leave the church where I was serving; (2) go to school full-time; and (3) be in full-time pastoral ministry. I didn’t know how the three were going to work together and was unsure which one to do first. Do I choose the school first and then look for a church nearby? Do I choose the church first and then look for a school? After months of praying, visiting schools and churches, God directed us to a school in New England. I turned in my resignation, effective December 31st, and began packing up our stuff to head out to New England. But before my time at the church was up, we received a letter in the mail with a $1,500 money order payable to us. There wasn’t any return address, signature, or anything—just the check. Needless to say, we were tremendously excited and it confirmed in our hearts that God was guiding this entire process—that is, until something terrible happened. In the midst of packing up our stuff and throwing things away, we accidentally threw the check away. We felt terrible! God had given us this tremendous gift and we threw it away! We contacted our church and let them know what happened, hoping the anonymous giver might give again. And because it was a money order, the anonymous giver had no knowledge that we had lost it! It was a terrible tragedy and I became terribly depressed. But, still sensing the call to go, we left Chicago and headed off to New England to a house we had secured for five months. And God was faithful. Twenty-four hours after arriving in New England, I received a phone call from a church, and within thirty-six hours I was dining with the search committee. Three weeks later I was voted in as Pastor! God had supplied a job, school, and even secured a place for us after our rental agreement was up! He had taken care of all the details.
Once I was done with my schooling in New England, I felt God leading me to get some further schooling. We left our church, made our way back to Illinois, and found a place to live. I had already been looking for jobs and felt that once we got there God would simply drop the perfect job in our lap, as He had done when we went to New England. But, once we settled in and I started school, that wasn’t the case. Everywhere I looked the door was slammed in my face. Finally, I was getting desperate. The money we thought was going to be there wasn’t. Our money was running out and my faith was being tested.
During this same time we were looking for a church where we could worship and serve. We attended several over the first three months of school, but didn’t feel that any of them were where God desired us to be. Finally, we made our way to a church I had heard about from some friends in the area. We made our way into the service late—my wife and I, and our two young daughters. The service was underway and we prepared our hearts for worship. After a song or two we sat down as my daughters began coloring in their coloring books with the markers we had brought along. But as the pastor began to pray and the entire congregation was silent, my older daughter knocked over the markers and they went sprawling across the floor! Not to mention it was a wooden floor and it echoed across the entire sanctuary! People turned around to look at us and I wanted to melt into my seat. At the peak of embarrassment a man turned around to help us pick up the markers. He glanced at me with an expression of confusion over his face. He looked familiar to me and after the service as we got into the car I told my wife that I was sure that I had seen him from our time serving in Chicago. But I didn’t know his name or anything about him, only that I had seen him before.
Fast-forward two weeks. It is late November and our money has dried up. I still can’t get a job and my rent is due—$1,450, and I’m not getting desperate…I am desperate. We decided to alleviate some stress and go see some Christmas lights nearby. But right as we are putting our coats on to go, I get the mail. In the mail is a handwritten letter addressed to me with no return address and no signature. It went something like this…
Dear Travis,
In the fall of 2004, I found myself at a church in the inner city of Chicago and heard about a young pastor (a Moody grad, I believe), who was preparing to go to seminary in New England. But due to some financial problems, there was the possibility that he would not be able to go. God brought this need to mind that day, and made it emphatic after several days that I was to help this young pastor. So, I went to a bank on Route 83 in Lake Villa to get a money order (I can’t remember for how much) to give to him. While at the bank, I started to have chest pains. I made my way to the car, put the check in an envelope and addressed it, when the pains started to increase. I realized that I was having a heart attack and thought that I might die. I pleaded with the Lord, “Lord, if I die, how will this check get to the young man you wanted me to help?” He responded, “Mail the check. Don’t worry, you are not going to die today.” So, I drove to the mailbox, mailed the check, and called an ambulance. They quickly made their way to me, but I was on the ground trying to crawl with my arms. They put me in the ambulance, took me to the hospital where it was determined that I had 99% blockage in all my arteries. They called my heart attack the “widow maker.” They told me that I was going to die and asked if I wanted to call a priest before they performed emergency surgery. I responded, “No, God told me I’m not going to die. Do what you need to do.”
It’s two and a half years later, I have half a heart, but God is still using me. Imagine my surprise when I saw the young pastor I helped two and a half years ago, a far cry from Boston. You wouldn’t know me if I stood in front of your face. Once I saw you, God told me to write this letter to you. Maybe it helps you, maybe it doesn’t.
Sincerely,
Your Brother in Christ
One would think that I would be overjoyed at such a letter, but I wasn’t. It was just a reminder to me that I had lost $1,500 dollars! I was angry that night as we slowly drove through the park of Christmas lights. As my wife and daughters excitedly pointed out the various displays, I was in a deep, aggravated funk. Here I needed $1,450 for rent, and had no way of getting it. Then this guy writes me a letter about money he gave two and a half years ago, not knowing that I had lost it. It had all the makings of a spiritual avalanche and I was trapped underneath its weight.
The next morning I went down to the basement to have some time with the Lord. With my rent looming in the back of my mind I was desperate and cried out for help. As I sat there, trying to process my situation, God brought to mind details of the letter I had received. He had gone to a bank in Lake Villa on Route 83. That was very close to me! I never would have known if I hadn’t moved to the area. I started thinking—Lake Villa wasn’t a large town and there couldn’t be that many banks on route 83. So I grabbed the letter, went upstairs to my wife and told her that I didn’t know what else to do, so I was going to simply drive to Lake Villa, pull over at the very first bank I came upon and give them this letter, explain the situation, and find out if they still had the check or if it was still good. I grabbed my coat, the letter, and my car keys and headed out the door.
As I drove, I was filled with anxiety and my mind flooded with questions: How do I explain my situation? How do I know what bank to go to? My license is from out of state—what if they think I’m a con man? Such thoughts didn’t calm my anxiety, but only served to make me more apprehensive. But anxiety gave way to real need as I saw the sign for Lake Villa and the first building after the sign was a bank. I pulled into the parking lot, took a deep breath, and made my way through the doors. It was a quiet, sunny, late November afternoon and the bank was quiet as associates and tellers went about their business. I made my way to a teller and was greeted by a “Good afternoon, how may I help you?” I hesitated for a brief moment, not sure how to begin or exactly what to say. I started with a question, “When was this bank built?” It looked new from the outside and I just wanted to make sure that it was around when my anonymous giver had secured his money order. She turned her head, as a puppy when it comes upon something new, and responded, “the fall of 2004.” “Well, it fits the time period,” I stated under my breath. I then asked, “How many banks are on route 83?” She responded, “Eight.” Well, if there were eight banks and this one wasn’t it, then I had seven more to visit.
Determined to see this through, I let the whole story out, like a dam letting forth the floodwaters. I’m not sure whether she was uncomfortable with my story, or the details therein, but she quickly let me know that she was not the person I needed to be speaking to. She picked up the phone and quickly notified one of the senior associates that I needed to speak with her.
An older woman came and greeted me in the middle of the room, escorted me to her rather large cubicle and directed me to a seat facing her. She asked me what she could do. Once again, I let open the gates and let the floodwaters out. I explained the entire story, beginning to end, concluding with the present moment and my reason for sitting across from her. And then, exasperated, I said, “I don’t know if you can help me or not. I don’t know if this is the bank and I don’t even know if the money order is still good.” She responded with a ray of hope: “Money orders are good for six years.” There seemed to be a hint of light on the horizon. Dare I hope? Could this be the place? Could I have the money? After losing the check, crossing several states, schools and churches, could God have really arranged it like this?
So began a bevy of questions: “What is your name?” “Who was the money order made out to?” “Who requisitioned it?” “When was it written?” “How much was it for?” I gave the best answers I could remember. I explained the reason for my out of state license, gave the best time period when I would have received the check, told them my name was on it, although I wasn’t exactly sure of the amount and definitely didn’t know who wrote it. She said that she didn’t even know if they could be the bank, due to the fact that the check could only have been written right after they had opened. I put my head down and muttered, “I know,” and resigned myself to hit the other seven banks to repeat the process again and again.
She sat in front of her computer screen looking intently at the data before her. She lightly tapped the keyboard every few seconds as she realized that the data before her didn’t match the criteria I had described. But then, she stopped. Her fingers stopped moving and her hand dropped from the keyboard. The expression on her face changed and a ray of light dawned in her eyes. She looked at the screen and then at me and said, “We found the check.” I couldn’t believe it! Throughout all this time, God had been working on my behalf. I had spent my time wondering where the money had gone, carrying the guilt around for having lost the check, at the end of myself and desperate, only to see God work in a truly miraculous way. He had provided my rent two and a half years before, and even though I had moved across states, changed churches and schools, He was there and guiding the entire process. As she went away to verify my identification, and cut the check, I sat there and cried. I balled right in the middle of that bank. I was filled with emotion—thankfulness, disbelief, and sorrow. I was sorry that I had doubted, and couldn’t believe that God would do that for me. I was so unworthy. And He was unbelievable. This was no mere coincidence, and could be nothing less than the hand of Almighty God!
She handed me the check, I thanked her for it, and said, “You can’t tell me God doesn’t exist. This doesn’t happen without God guiding the whole thing.” I walked out the door, got in my car, and called my wife in unbelievable amazement as I made my way to my bank to deposit the check and then write another check to my landlord in order to pay my rent.
I’m sharing this personal experience with you so that you may be encouraged and have hope—no matter where you are, no matter what you’ve done. God is working on your behalf to draw you closer to Him. He reminded me of the truth that when He guides, He also provides. Even when we fail to understand the how’s and why’s, He is there and working. Elijah is an example for all of us. When God directs us to places where we are unsure, we must rest in the knowledge of who He is, what He has done, and what He has promised to do. He promised Elijah He’d provide for him by using ravens, and He will provide His “ravens” for us, too.
It wasn’t too long after getting my letter that I met my anonymous giver. He ended up helping us in a variety of other ways (but that is for another Toolshed) that make the story even better. Sometime after I told him this story and thanked him again for his generosity (he didn’t know about me losing the initial money order), I said to him that I couldn’t have done anything without him. He responded, “If God didn’t use me, He would have raised someone else up.” It was at that moment that God brought this passage to mind and I told him, “You are one of my ravens. Remember the story of Elijah? When he was in Cherith, God provided ravens to feed him. You are one of my ravens.” He responded, “Ravens? Yeah, I like that. I’m a raven.”
There have been many “ravens” in my life over the years and perhaps there are in yours as well. There are times in our lives when we are in the place where God wants us to trust in His promise of provision as we rely on His ravens. And then there are times when He wants us to be the ravens that help others. Where does God have you right now? Are you relying on His ravens? Or are you to be a raven?
I was at the place of relying on ravens and maybe you are too. Know this—God will provide. It may not be in the way we want, or in the time frame we believe He should act, but He will provide in His own time, and in His own way. Just like He did with Elijah. And like Elijah, we must obey when God directs us, no matter what it is, because we know that when He guides, He will provide. Amen.
Our God is faithful. When He guides, He also provides. He always provides. He cannot fail. Elijah is the classic case in point. God had decreed drought on the land because of Israel’s idolatrous ways (Deuteronomy 11:16-17). And after Elijah announces the impending drought to the wicked King Ahab, God tells Elijah to go to the brook Cherith, east of the Jordan River, where he will drink and the ravens will feed him. Elijah goes, not knowing how long he will be there, or how long the drought will last. He is commanded to go and he does. And he goes in faith, knowing that God has given a promise of provision. God will provide for him, but he must go first. Often, God will not show Himself until we first take a step of faith in obedience to His command, resting in His promises. As the apostle Paul wrote to the church at Corinth, “for we walk by faith, not by sight”—2 Corinthians 5:7. Our nature is to have everything planned out, our ducks set in a row, and know where and how things are going to be provided for, but in Elijah’s case, God doesn’t do that; He simply commands him to go.
Several years ago, I was serving as a youth pastor in the inner city of Chicago, when I felt the Lord leading me to do three things: (1) leave the church where I was serving; (2) go to school full-time; and (3) be in full-time pastoral ministry. I didn’t know how the three were going to work together and was unsure which one to do first. Do I choose the school first and then look for a church nearby? Do I choose the church first and then look for a school? After months of praying, visiting schools and churches, God directed us to a school in New England. I turned in my resignation, effective December 31st, and began packing up our stuff to head out to New England. But before my time at the church was up, we received a letter in the mail with a $1,500 money order payable to us. There wasn’t any return address, signature, or anything—just the check. Needless to say, we were tremendously excited and it confirmed in our hearts that God was guiding this entire process—that is, until something terrible happened. In the midst of packing up our stuff and throwing things away, we accidentally threw the check away. We felt terrible! God had given us this tremendous gift and we threw it away! We contacted our church and let them know what happened, hoping the anonymous giver might give again. And because it was a money order, the anonymous giver had no knowledge that we had lost it! It was a terrible tragedy and I became terribly depressed. But, still sensing the call to go, we left Chicago and headed off to New England to a house we had secured for five months. And God was faithful. Twenty-four hours after arriving in New England, I received a phone call from a church, and within thirty-six hours I was dining with the search committee. Three weeks later I was voted in as Pastor! God had supplied a job, school, and even secured a place for us after our rental agreement was up! He had taken care of all the details.
Once I was done with my schooling in New England, I felt God leading me to get some further schooling. We left our church, made our way back to Illinois, and found a place to live. I had already been looking for jobs and felt that once we got there God would simply drop the perfect job in our lap, as He had done when we went to New England. But, once we settled in and I started school, that wasn’t the case. Everywhere I looked the door was slammed in my face. Finally, I was getting desperate. The money we thought was going to be there wasn’t. Our money was running out and my faith was being tested.
During this same time we were looking for a church where we could worship and serve. We attended several over the first three months of school, but didn’t feel that any of them were where God desired us to be. Finally, we made our way to a church I had heard about from some friends in the area. We made our way into the service late—my wife and I, and our two young daughters. The service was underway and we prepared our hearts for worship. After a song or two we sat down as my daughters began coloring in their coloring books with the markers we had brought along. But as the pastor began to pray and the entire congregation was silent, my older daughter knocked over the markers and they went sprawling across the floor! Not to mention it was a wooden floor and it echoed across the entire sanctuary! People turned around to look at us and I wanted to melt into my seat. At the peak of embarrassment a man turned around to help us pick up the markers. He glanced at me with an expression of confusion over his face. He looked familiar to me and after the service as we got into the car I told my wife that I was sure that I had seen him from our time serving in Chicago. But I didn’t know his name or anything about him, only that I had seen him before.
Fast-forward two weeks. It is late November and our money has dried up. I still can’t get a job and my rent is due—$1,450, and I’m not getting desperate…I am desperate. We decided to alleviate some stress and go see some Christmas lights nearby. But right as we are putting our coats on to go, I get the mail. In the mail is a handwritten letter addressed to me with no return address and no signature. It went something like this…
Dear Travis,
In the fall of 2004, I found myself at a church in the inner city of Chicago and heard about a young pastor (a Moody grad, I believe), who was preparing to go to seminary in New England. But due to some financial problems, there was the possibility that he would not be able to go. God brought this need to mind that day, and made it emphatic after several days that I was to help this young pastor. So, I went to a bank on Route 83 in Lake Villa to get a money order (I can’t remember for how much) to give to him. While at the bank, I started to have chest pains. I made my way to the car, put the check in an envelope and addressed it, when the pains started to increase. I realized that I was having a heart attack and thought that I might die. I pleaded with the Lord, “Lord, if I die, how will this check get to the young man you wanted me to help?” He responded, “Mail the check. Don’t worry, you are not going to die today.” So, I drove to the mailbox, mailed the check, and called an ambulance. They quickly made their way to me, but I was on the ground trying to crawl with my arms. They put me in the ambulance, took me to the hospital where it was determined that I had 99% blockage in all my arteries. They called my heart attack the “widow maker.” They told me that I was going to die and asked if I wanted to call a priest before they performed emergency surgery. I responded, “No, God told me I’m not going to die. Do what you need to do.”
It’s two and a half years later, I have half a heart, but God is still using me. Imagine my surprise when I saw the young pastor I helped two and a half years ago, a far cry from Boston. You wouldn’t know me if I stood in front of your face. Once I saw you, God told me to write this letter to you. Maybe it helps you, maybe it doesn’t.
Sincerely,
Your Brother in Christ
One would think that I would be overjoyed at such a letter, but I wasn’t. It was just a reminder to me that I had lost $1,500 dollars! I was angry that night as we slowly drove through the park of Christmas lights. As my wife and daughters excitedly pointed out the various displays, I was in a deep, aggravated funk. Here I needed $1,450 for rent, and had no way of getting it. Then this guy writes me a letter about money he gave two and a half years ago, not knowing that I had lost it. It had all the makings of a spiritual avalanche and I was trapped underneath its weight.
The next morning I went down to the basement to have some time with the Lord. With my rent looming in the back of my mind I was desperate and cried out for help. As I sat there, trying to process my situation, God brought to mind details of the letter I had received. He had gone to a bank in Lake Villa on Route 83. That was very close to me! I never would have known if I hadn’t moved to the area. I started thinking—Lake Villa wasn’t a large town and there couldn’t be that many banks on route 83. So I grabbed the letter, went upstairs to my wife and told her that I didn’t know what else to do, so I was going to simply drive to Lake Villa, pull over at the very first bank I came upon and give them this letter, explain the situation, and find out if they still had the check or if it was still good. I grabbed my coat, the letter, and my car keys and headed out the door.
As I drove, I was filled with anxiety and my mind flooded with questions: How do I explain my situation? How do I know what bank to go to? My license is from out of state—what if they think I’m a con man? Such thoughts didn’t calm my anxiety, but only served to make me more apprehensive. But anxiety gave way to real need as I saw the sign for Lake Villa and the first building after the sign was a bank. I pulled into the parking lot, took a deep breath, and made my way through the doors. It was a quiet, sunny, late November afternoon and the bank was quiet as associates and tellers went about their business. I made my way to a teller and was greeted by a “Good afternoon, how may I help you?” I hesitated for a brief moment, not sure how to begin or exactly what to say. I started with a question, “When was this bank built?” It looked new from the outside and I just wanted to make sure that it was around when my anonymous giver had secured his money order. She turned her head, as a puppy when it comes upon something new, and responded, “the fall of 2004.” “Well, it fits the time period,” I stated under my breath. I then asked, “How many banks are on route 83?” She responded, “Eight.” Well, if there were eight banks and this one wasn’t it, then I had seven more to visit.
Determined to see this through, I let the whole story out, like a dam letting forth the floodwaters. I’m not sure whether she was uncomfortable with my story, or the details therein, but she quickly let me know that she was not the person I needed to be speaking to. She picked up the phone and quickly notified one of the senior associates that I needed to speak with her.
An older woman came and greeted me in the middle of the room, escorted me to her rather large cubicle and directed me to a seat facing her. She asked me what she could do. Once again, I let open the gates and let the floodwaters out. I explained the entire story, beginning to end, concluding with the present moment and my reason for sitting across from her. And then, exasperated, I said, “I don’t know if you can help me or not. I don’t know if this is the bank and I don’t even know if the money order is still good.” She responded with a ray of hope: “Money orders are good for six years.” There seemed to be a hint of light on the horizon. Dare I hope? Could this be the place? Could I have the money? After losing the check, crossing several states, schools and churches, could God have really arranged it like this?
So began a bevy of questions: “What is your name?” “Who was the money order made out to?” “Who requisitioned it?” “When was it written?” “How much was it for?” I gave the best answers I could remember. I explained the reason for my out of state license, gave the best time period when I would have received the check, told them my name was on it, although I wasn’t exactly sure of the amount and definitely didn’t know who wrote it. She said that she didn’t even know if they could be the bank, due to the fact that the check could only have been written right after they had opened. I put my head down and muttered, “I know,” and resigned myself to hit the other seven banks to repeat the process again and again.
She sat in front of her computer screen looking intently at the data before her. She lightly tapped the keyboard every few seconds as she realized that the data before her didn’t match the criteria I had described. But then, she stopped. Her fingers stopped moving and her hand dropped from the keyboard. The expression on her face changed and a ray of light dawned in her eyes. She looked at the screen and then at me and said, “We found the check.” I couldn’t believe it! Throughout all this time, God had been working on my behalf. I had spent my time wondering where the money had gone, carrying the guilt around for having lost the check, at the end of myself and desperate, only to see God work in a truly miraculous way. He had provided my rent two and a half years before, and even though I had moved across states, changed churches and schools, He was there and guiding the entire process. As she went away to verify my identification, and cut the check, I sat there and cried. I balled right in the middle of that bank. I was filled with emotion—thankfulness, disbelief, and sorrow. I was sorry that I had doubted, and couldn’t believe that God would do that for me. I was so unworthy. And He was unbelievable. This was no mere coincidence, and could be nothing less than the hand of Almighty God!
She handed me the check, I thanked her for it, and said, “You can’t tell me God doesn’t exist. This doesn’t happen without God guiding the whole thing.” I walked out the door, got in my car, and called my wife in unbelievable amazement as I made my way to my bank to deposit the check and then write another check to my landlord in order to pay my rent.
I’m sharing this personal experience with you so that you may be encouraged and have hope—no matter where you are, no matter what you’ve done. God is working on your behalf to draw you closer to Him. He reminded me of the truth that when He guides, He also provides. Even when we fail to understand the how’s and why’s, He is there and working. Elijah is an example for all of us. When God directs us to places where we are unsure, we must rest in the knowledge of who He is, what He has done, and what He has promised to do. He promised Elijah He’d provide for him by using ravens, and He will provide His “ravens” for us, too.
It wasn’t too long after getting my letter that I met my anonymous giver. He ended up helping us in a variety of other ways (but that is for another Toolshed) that make the story even better. Sometime after I told him this story and thanked him again for his generosity (he didn’t know about me losing the initial money order), I said to him that I couldn’t have done anything without him. He responded, “If God didn’t use me, He would have raised someone else up.” It was at that moment that God brought this passage to mind and I told him, “You are one of my ravens. Remember the story of Elijah? When he was in Cherith, God provided ravens to feed him. You are one of my ravens.” He responded, “Ravens? Yeah, I like that. I’m a raven.”
There have been many “ravens” in my life over the years and perhaps there are in yours as well. There are times in our lives when we are in the place where God wants us to trust in His promise of provision as we rely on His ravens. And then there are times when He wants us to be the ravens that help others. Where does God have you right now? Are you relying on His ravens? Or are you to be a raven?
I was at the place of relying on ravens and maybe you are too. Know this—God will provide. It may not be in the way we want, or in the time frame we believe He should act, but He will provide in His own time, and in His own way. Just like He did with Elijah. And like Elijah, we must obey when God directs us, no matter what it is, because we know that when He guides, He will provide. Amen.
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