One of the books I'm working on (and may never finish) I've titled
"More than My Share of Grace." Here's an excerpt from a chapter by
the above title:
I loved that van. Roomy, classy, burgundy with black trim and sleak silver
lines along the sides. When I bought it as a single mom with two pre-teen kids,
it had been what I'd call an awesome blessing.
It was a source for feeling good about myself that
I'd been able to swing that purchase, taking on extra piano students in
addition to my full-time church job to work it into the budget. We put a lot of
miles on that vehicle while living in Indiana, and then in the move to North
Carolina for a new job. Interstate 77 between Winston-Salem and Charleston,
West Virginia, on up across Ohio were a breeze to navigate as I spent most of
my vacation time and holidays traveling north to see family.
After the kids were grown and out of the house in college, I still had that
van, now with many miles, and began to call it "The Van of Zarephath"
after a story in the Old Testament. You remember it too, about the widow of Zarephath
who was visited by the prophet Elijah during a time of famine? The Lord sent the prophet her way during his
travels. On entering town hungry and tired, Elijah met her at the town well and
asked her to prepare a meal for him. (Middle Eastern hospitality in those days
is so foreign to us in the 21st century USA!). She replied that she
only had enough flour and oil to make one last meal for her son and herself
which they would eat and then die.
Elijah told her “Don’t be afraid. . . . do as you have said, but first make
a small cake of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then
make something for yourself and your son. For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel says, ‘The jar of
flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the
Lord gives rain on the land.’ ”
That widow and her story have inspired
me many times through the years. She did what Elijah asked and the narrative
continues, “So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her
family. For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run
dry, in keeping with the word of the Lord
spoken by Elijah.” I can still picture
my Sunday school teacher telling that story with shining eyes when I was in
fourth grade. I thought of the little cutout figures on flannel graph she used
as a story aid when I was making supper this evening. Lifting the lid on my
flour canister, I mused how I’ve never had an empty flour jar either, even
during some lean times.
Well, back to my van. As the press of college
age kids, living in a higher-cost-of-living area and so on challenged my budget,
that faithful van drove on and on. Somewhere I began to associate it with that
widow’s story and started calling it the "Van of Zarephath."
Like the widow’s story, the
miracle of endless supply didn’t last forever. When the rains came, she was
able to move on to the regular way of filling her flour and oil jars. My van
eventually died. I was so attached to it (and not sure it was a season of
refreshing rains in my bank account) that I walked to work, the grocery store,
wherever for the month of January, sure that I’d try the key one morning and it
would miraculously start up. Sometimes miracles are hard to let go of, aren't they?
The Van of Zarephath was replaced by a
Regal which I haven’t given a fuller name to yet. But it’s getting up there in
mileage and maybe it’s time think about elongating its name too. In the
meantime, when I see a mother driving an older Dodge caravan I pray, “Lord, bless
that woman of Zarephath and keep her flour jar full!”
Where I grew up in northern Indiana farm country, there were many buggies on the roads. I still see them when I am up to the old stomping grounds today and marvel that the Amish and "old-order Mennonites" have kept their culture of "old-fashioned ways" going robustly in the 21st century. I wonder what Elijah and his widow friend would have thought of this snazzy vehicle?
And here's a song that was often sung in worship at churches in the 1970's, FILL MY CUP LORD. My mother loved that song, and it's a pleasant reminder of her today. The photo in that video gives one a good idea of what the setting may have looked like when Elijah met the widow as she was getting water. The song FILL MY CUP LORD is a reference to the New Testament story of the woman at the well.
