1 Kings 17:2-6 And the word of the LORD came to him: 3 “Depart from here and turn eastward and hide yourself by the brook Cherith, which is east of the Jordan. 4 You shall drink from the brook, and I have commanded the ravens to feed you there.” 5 So he went and did according to the word of the LORD. He went and lived by the brook Cherith that is east of the Jordan. 6 And the ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning, and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook.
Before God’s servants can stand in high places before men, they must first bow low before Him. Elijah, fresh from proclaiming God’s judgment to Ahab, might have felt indispensable to God’s plan. Yet the following command was unexpected: “Hide yourself.” The brook Cherith became Elijah’s place of humbling, where pride was stripped away, self-reliance was broken, and his soul learned the sweetness of depending on God alone.
So it is with us. We are often too eager, too confident in our own strength, too certain of our usefulness. But in His wisdom, God leads us to our own Cheriths–hidden places where we learn to trust Him afresh.
Shabbat is our Cherith, week after week–not just a pause from labor, but a posture of the soul that says, “I trust You.” It is God’s invitation: “Cease striving. Rest by the brook. Let Me supply your need.” Like Elijah, we cannot stand on Carmel in victory until we have first knelt at Cherith in surrender.
Even at Cherith, the brook dried up. Day after day, Elijah watched the stream diminish until the final drop was gone. But God had not forsaken him. The drying brook taught Elijah to trust–not in the gift, but in the Giver. It revealed a more profound truth: when one source runs dry, God opens another.
So it is with us. We, too, find ourselves beside drying brooks–when health fades, resources run low, friendships waver, or doors of opportunity close. In those moments, God invites us into deeper rest, into stillness of soul, into unwavering trust. “My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my hope is from Him” (Psalm 62:5). His living water never fails. His grace flows, undiminished by the thirst of generations, unwearied through the ages. The promises of Yeshua (Jesus) remain true, especially in our Cherith moments: “Whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst.” (John 4:14).
If you find yourself beside a drying brook—take heart! God has not forgotten you. This is not the end. Beyond Cherith lies Zarephath. Beyond this wilderness, fresh provision, new purpose, and greater power await. Hear His voice above the silence: Rest in Me. Trust in Me.
Shabbat is His gift—a holy invitation to be renewed, strengthened, and refreshed. Like Elijah at Cherith, hide yourself in Him. Trust His miraculous provision, even when it comes in ways you never expected—as when ravens fed the prophet in his secret refuge. The God who sustained Elijah will sustain you. His grace still flows. His living water has not run dry.
Now is the time to be refreshed and renewed—for Cherith and Zarephath were God’s training ground for triumph on Carmel, where the prophets of Baal were crushed and a nation was turned back to God. But it all began with Elijah first learning the lessons of surrender and trust at Cherith!
Copyright 1999-2026 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Rockets are flying through the skies of Israel and many are landing on the ground. Emails are also flying through cyberspace as people all over the world express support through prayer for us and our nation. Words cannot express our gratitude for your care and concern. In times like these the best and the worst are brought out in people: either the peace, confidence, and strength which come from faith, or the fear and panic which overwhelms the souls of worldly men.
Since moving to Israel we’ve been thrust into a Middle Eastern culture of “extreme hospitality”. The above parable from Luke takes place in a similar cultural context, and it powerfully illustrates how God wants us to approach Him.
Unless you’re up on your biology, you’re probably wondering, “What in the world is a coney?” I certainly was. After doing a little research, I discovered that a coney is a rock badger.
I ran across a profound story that shows what happens when the family structure breaks down — but this didn’t have to do with people — it had to do with elephants.
As some of you may know, a bomb exploded in a bus within blocks of our Jerusalem apartment when we first moved to Israel. That morning, my wife and I, along with our newborn baby, were heading to the city center to run a few errands when suddenly we heard the explosion. Within minutes, the sirens were screaming from every part of the city as officials quickly made their way to the scene. Later that month, the bus I was supposed to be on drove away as I watched it carry away the 50 or so people who would be critically injured and the 8 who would be dead seconds later, when that bus exploded before my very eyes. So, to put it mildly, we have seen firsthand how terrorism works and how it affects people.
We know a Christian woman who has struggled with her past for years. She rarely thinks or speaks of anything else. And as a result, her life has just spiraled downward, despite all our attempts to minister to her. It breaks our hearts to see.
Today marks Holocaust Memorial day here in Israel. At ten o’clock in the morning on this day, war sirens sound calling the entire Land to remembrance of the 6,000,000 Jews who died and many more who suffered under the Nazi regime during WW2. People in their homes and workplaces rise in silence; cars come to a halt, even on the highways; pedestrians stop where they are and pause… for one minute as the sirens wail, we remember.