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.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]As we continue our study of the men who followed David, another characteristic was their ability to war.They learned how to battle with both the right hand and the left hand for hurling stones. If you have ever thrown a ball, you know that you can aim effectively with your dominant hand — but try it with the opposite hand — it’s far more difficult to throw accurately. But the men that followed David learned to throw with both arms effectively! It must have taken months of training to develop such skill.
When David was a fugitive from Saul, the men who followed him recognized his rightful place as King of Israel, and they developed a deep loyalty to him, this little band. As we read yesterday, these men were transformed from distress, debt, and discontentment [1 Sam. 22:1-2] into becoming mighty men of war. Having joined David, they quickly realized that they were joining a conflict.
Last night, Jewish people around the world will mourn Tisha B’Av, the ninth day of the fifth month of the Hebrew calendar year. Some of you may know that a lot of bad things have happened to the Jewish people on this date, the first of which was when the spies returned with an evil report of Canaan, the Promised Land, recounted in Numbers 13 and 14. Both the first and the second Temple were destroyed on this exact date, hundreds of years apart. The Crusades began on this day in 1095. The Jews were expelled out of England on this day in 1290, and again were expelled from Spain and Portugal on Tisha B’Av in 1492. And there are many more examples of this infamous day in Jewish history!
An ancient legend tells of a king who walked into his garden one day to find almost everything withered and dying. After speaking to an oak near the gate, the king learned that he was troubled because he was not tall and beautiful like the pine. The pine overheard their conversation and added that she, too, was upset, for she could not bear delicious fruit like the pear tree. The pear tree heard his name and began to complain that he did not have the lovely odor of the spruce. And so it went throughout the entire garden.
In the midst of a serious heat wave, wildfires are spreading across Europe causing thousands to evacuate. This reminded me of a story I once read.
I can’t begin to tell you. So many people I’ve shared the Gospel with have answered, “Well — I don’t need that, I’m a good person.” No, we’re not. We have a tendency to compare ourselves with our neighbor, thinking how nice or how giving we are compared to him or her. But none of us are good by God’s standards. Our good works are like filthy rags, according to Isaiah.
If you look at the ant you will find that they dwell in colonies. Each colony consists of approximately 60,000 – 90,000 ants — they really can’t prosper on their own. They need each other. How does a colony of that many ants to work together? The only reason it works is that they operate in unity. Each ant shares the same purpose, the same goal, and the same aim.