1 Kings

Faithfulness is Exhausting

Faithfulness is Exhausting

A Long Obedience: Part 2
1 Kings 19:1-18

October 18, 2026

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He longed for his own death: “It’s more than enough, Lord! Take my life because I’m no better than my ancestors.” He lay down and slept under the solitary broom bush.

Then suddenly a messenger tapped him and said to him, “Get up! Eat something!” Elijah opened his eyes and saw flatbread baked on glowing coals and a jar of water right by his head. He ate and drank, and then went back to sleep.

~ 1 Kings 19:4-6

Craig J. Sefa Faithfulness is Exhausting

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I love the story of Elijah hearing the still small voice of God, not in the wind or the earthquake or the fire, but in the stillness, in the solitude, in the silence. Maybe it’s just my introverted self celebrating the fact that God isn’t only found in high energy worship concerts or massive revival gatherings with thousands of people. Or maybe it’s something deeper that goes beyond introversion and extroversion. Maybe there’s something to the idea that God’s first language is silence, and that into the silent void all creation was spoken into existence.

There is silence in the womb. There is silence underground where seeds germinate. There is silence in a library where ideas are slowly absorbed and taken to heart. There is silence around the deathbed when words cannot contain the holy mystery of a loved one passing through the veil of eternity. It is the law of all nature that great and wondrous things tend to emerge from the creative work that happens in silence and stillness.

But Elijah’s life was anything but silent and still. He was literally running for his life. His world, like ours, was noisy, chaotic, and filled with fear. How do we find such stillness when we are always on the run?

For Elijah, the answer came in his own collapse. When he couldn’t take another step he cried out to God to let him die. But God sent a messenger to wake him, just long enough to eat and drink, and then to let him go back to sleep. Twice he received the sustenance he needed before being invited to rest again.

Elijah’s work was not over, and neither is ours. But the best of our work flows out of a place of rest. This is why God gave us Sabbath. This is why Jesus spent time in silence away from the crowds.

When was the last time you felt invited to rest? What if a good meal and a nap is actually a spiritual practice?

Weekly Practice: Rest

This week, enjoy one meal that you truly love and take the time to savor it. Linger at the table instead of rushing back to work. Enjoy the gift of nourishment and of delight. Make some time to rest, and see how much better you feel when you awaken into all that God has prepared for you.


Renewing the Mind

Renewing the Mind

It has been said that we live in a suicidal culture. This is no surprise given the unprecedented level of collective trauma in our nation and world. Yet despite the alarming increase in mental illness and suicide, it seems the church, and to a slightly lesser degree our culture at large, still places a high degree of stigma and shame on those who desperately need mental and emotional care.

I have ministered to teenagers and young adults whose parents would not allow them to get needed medication for bipolar, ADHD, depression and other conditions because they didn’t believe such illnesses were real, despite medical diagnoses. Some were afraid for their parents to find out that they were on medication for fear of being kicked out of their home. Others simply refused to come to church and sit in worship next to a parent who blamed all of their problems on them despite not allowing them to get the help they needed.

Mental illness and suicide is a complicated issue that impacts an increasingly large percentage of our population and it is not going away. Perhaps instead of avoiding, judging, rationalizing, or trying to simply pray it away, we might take our cue from 1 Kings 19. When Elijah wanted to die, God simply cared for him. God let him rest. God fed him. God was fully present and engaged. Can the same be said of us by those who so often suffer in silence?…