Close up of tulips with a brick entrance sign in the background that reads Belmont University.

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Danielle Marie Urton

Suggested Readings: Psalm 53, 2 Kings 4:1-7, Luke 9:10-17

Nearly two years ago, I entered the Lenten season with a familiar companion— grief. And grief seemed to be all I had, after the loss of my father. A key practice in many traditions, including my own, is to give up something during the Lenten season, but the thought nearly made me laugh. Lord, I have nothing but this grief. I was desperate to keep this one last thing. It wasn’t good or satisfying. But it was mine.

In 2 Kings 4:1-7, grief is front and center. A widow has nothing to give creditors when they come to collect on her husband’s debt, and they want to take her children as slaves. Grief. First her husband, now her children. She rushes to the prophet Elisha for help. His initial response seems unhelpful, for surely the oil from a single jar is insufficient to repay what she owes, not to mention that it’s all she has left. The text doesn’t say whether the woman has any reaction to Elisha’s words, but I can only imagine what it’s like to be told that you must give away the one thing left in your possession, even if it’s not nearly enough to meet your needs.

I think of this often. What we have to offer the Lord may seem meager. And that thought might be a smokescreen for our real fear—Lord, it’s all I have. If we give up this one thing, we risk being left with nothing...That is if we don’t serve a God who takes what we have and turns it into more than we can imagine.

The widow gave all she had. God gave abundantly in return. She ended up with more than enough oil to pay her debts and some left over to sustain her family. We don’t know her attitude in giving, whether her faith was riddled with doubt, but I know mine would be. Mine was, in fact. I brought my grief—my messy, angry, bitter grief—to God. Restoration seemed far-fetched. And yet, God was faithful, giving abundantly to me also. Grief is not my only companion anymore. By the grace and mercy of God, I’ve welcomed a community of tender care and steadfast love.

Here is the good news of the resurrection, coming not in spite of our pain, but alongside it: God has promised to make all things new.

Danielle Marie Urton