Where is the Lord God of Elijah?

2 Kings 2:14  Then he took the mantle of Elijah that had fallen from him, and struck the water, and said, “Where is the LORD God of Elijah?” And when he also had struck the water, it was divided this way and that; and Elisha crossed over.

Over the past few years, some leaders who once inspired many have fallen into scandals that have brought harm and confusion to the body of Christ. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel disillusioned or lost, as if the work of God depends on human vessels who have failed us. But I’m reminded of how Elisha responded when Elijah was taken from him. His eyes were not on the departing servant but on the living God. “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” he cried — not, “Where is Elijah?” That cry holds a lesson for us today: our hope and strength are not in human leaders, but in the God who works through them—and who remains faithful even when men falter.

Elisha’s heart longed for the God who had empowered Elijah–the God who shuts the heavens, calls down fire, feeds the hungry through ravens, and defends His name before kings and nations. Mighty acts of faith marked Elijah’s life because his confidence rested in the Almighty, not in himself. And when his race was run, God’s power was no less present, no less ready to act, no less able to raise up a new servant and continue His work. The God of Elijah is the God of life and death, of judgment and mercy, of fire and rain, of heaven and earth — and He is unchanged today.

When Elisha stepped forward, he met his first obstacle — the swollen Jordan, barring his way. But he did not shrink back. He lifted Elijah’s mantle, struck the water, and cried out, “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” And the God of Elijah answered. The river parted. The path opened. And Elisha stepped into his calling. So it will be for us. When our Jordans rise up, when leaders disappoint, when challenges seem insurmountable, let our hearts cry not for men, but for the God who never fails.

The God of Elisha revealed Himself not just in mighty acts, but in tender mercies — healing poisoned waters (2 Kings 2:19-22), multiplying a widow’s oil (2 Kings 4:1-7), feeding a multitude (2 Kings 4:42-44), restoring the dead to life (2 Kings 4:18-37), making iron float (2 Kings 6:1-7). This is the God who steps into our kitchens and workshops, our debts and needs, our hidden battles and silent cries. He is as present in the ordinary as in the extraordinary, as near in our weakness as in our victories.

Beloved, today God calls us to lift our eyes from men to Himself. Leaders may fall, heroes may stumble, but the Lord God of Elijah and Elisha remains. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He waits for us to trust Him afresh, to cry out for His presence, to believe in His power — not in our strength, not in human vessels, but in Him alone.

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As we are entering some of the most turbulent times in history, we’ve been receiving an unbelievable amount of email expressing concern about the future. But I want to tell you a little something – the future is VICTORY!

How often, in all the issues we have to deal with talking with people, we know or we feel we are right; our idea, our position, our interpretation is it, and we’re ready to fight for it…

Life wears us down. We live in a world of relentless motion, pressure, and performance. Yeshua (Jesus) doesn’t deny this. Instead, He speaks directly to those who are “weary and heavy-laden.” The Greek for “weary” (kopiao) means utterly worn out—soul-tired, not just physically fatigued. The burdens He mentions aren’t only external tasks but inward baggage: guilt, shame, expectations, and hidden wounds. Yeshua’s call isn’t merely an invitation to stop—it’s a call to come. He offers what no one else can: rest that restores.

When we read the promises of God, we must read them the way we ourselves want to be heard—in full context. Just as we expect others to understand our words in light of what we’ve said before, God expects us to interpret His promises in light of all He has revealed in His Word.

A few days ago, I shared a quote from B.J. Willhite, and today I want to delve deeper into his powerful insight. He wrote, “The law of prayer is the highest law of the universe—it can overcome the other laws by sanctioning God’s intervention. When implemented properly, the law of prayer permits God to exercise His sovereignty in a world under the dominion of a rebel with free will, in a universe governed by natural law.”

When God spoke to Abram, the command was clear yet profoundly personal. The Hebrew phrase lech lecha carries a dual meaning: “go forth” and “go for yourself.” This journey wasn’t just a physical relocation; it was a spiritual pilgrimage—a call to walk out God’s will and to walk into his divine inheritance. Abram’s journey was not merely about distance but about destiny.

In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.