1 Kings 19:1-5 Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. 2 Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, “So may the gods do to me and more also, if I do not make your life as the life of one of them by this time tomorrow.” 3 Then he was afraid, and he arose and ran for his life and came to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there. 4 But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.” 5 And he lay down and slept under a broom tree. And behold, an angel touched him and said to him, “Arise and eat.”
After one of the greatest spiritual victories in all of Scripture–calling down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel and turning the hearts of Israel back to God–Elijah finds himself blindsided by fear.
Jezebel’s threat, a single message promising his death within twenty-four hours, sends him running for his life. The same man who boldly faced hundreds of false prophets now flees into the wilderness, collapsing under a broom tree, physically exhausted and emotionally shattered.
In that lonely place, Elijah utters one of the most raw and human prayers recorded in Scripture: “It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life.” How does a prophet fall so far, so fast? Because even the strongest among us are not immune to burnout, to despair, or the crushing weight of unmet expectations. Elijah had hoped that revival would take root, that Jezebel’s reign of terror would come to an end. But evil still held the throne, and Elijah felt utterly alone. His cry wasn’t rebellion–it was fatigue, disappointment, and the pain of believing he had failed.
We’ve all had broom tree moments–times when we’ve poured ourselves out in obedience, only to be met with resistance or silence. We’ve felt the sting of rejection, the fear that nothing we’ve done has mattered, and the quiet whisper of defeat. And yet, the beauty of Elijah’s story is not only in his honesty but in God’s response. The Lord doesn’t scold Elijah for running. He doesn’t reject his weakness. Instead, He sends an angel with food, gives him rest, and later speaks in a gentle whisper–not a rebuke, but a reassurance.
God’s heart toward the weary is full of compassion. He knows the limits of our humanity and meets us right in the middle of our brokenness. If you find yourself under your own broom tree today–overwhelmed, tired, or afraid–know this: God sees you. He’s not finished with you. The wilderness is not your final destination. It’s often the place where God begins to write the next chapter of your story, with fresh strength and renewed purpose. Let Him meet you there.
Copyright 1999-2025 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]The legendary preacher, Charles Spurgeon once said, “Discernment is not simply a matter of telling the difference between what is right and wrong; rather it is the difference between right and almost right.”
Every day roughly 150,000 around the world die. Death has a way of raising our spiritual temperature and quickening us to re-evaluate life…especially to ask, “Am I doing all that I can do?”
The first king of Israel, King Saul,was told by God to utterly slay Amalek and his descendants. In blatant disobedience Saul allowed Agag, the king of the Amalekites and the best of the cattle to remain alive. The following day, Saul tried to remedy his disobedience by attempting to sacrifice the best of the cattle to the Lord.
If you’ve ever been to Israel, you know that Shabbat—what we call the Sabbath—is a big deal. It starts Friday at sundown and goes until Saturday at sundown, and let me tell you, the whole country gets ready for it like clockwork. Friday mornings are busy—really busy. The outdoor markets are packed, folks are rushing around grabbing last-minute groceries, cleaning house, cooking meals, and getting everything wrapped up before things shut down. By the time the sun sets, the streets get quiet, the stores close, and life slows down. For the next 24 hours, it’s all about rest.
Watching Yeshua (Jesus) lay down His life to die on the cross was not what His disciples were expecting, but rather a shocking, perplexing, and apparently hopeless ending to what had seemed like a promising fulfillment of Messianic hope. The shattering ordeal of Yeshua’s trials, torture, and horrific death must have left them all feeling bereft, miserable, and uncertain of the future. What would they do now? What would their future hold?
According to ancient Jewish legend, one day Abraham was shown his father, Terah’s room of many idols. Young Abraham, thinking that perhaps he could discover intimacy with them, made some desirable delicacies and placed them before the idols. When nothing happened, he realized that these idols were nothing more than clay — they could do nothing for him or anyone else for that matter. So he proceeded to destroy all the idols, except for one.
Among those in the court of Alexander the Great was a philosopher of outstanding ability but little money. He asked Alexander for financial help and was told to draw whatever he needed from the imperial treasury.