We don’t think of it at birth, but each baby comes pre-scheduled for a funeral. Thank God for eternal hope!
Dealing with bitterness? Cast in the promises of God. Suffering from spiritual dryness? Expose the need to God—the more ditches, the more blessing. Or is it a sense of powerlessness? The Lord will show you how He emptied Himself in weakness (Php 2:7) to fill us all. But in our story today, there is the dilemma of lifelessness. A “notable [literally, great] woman” from Shunem (2 Ki 4:8) had the opportunity to provide a meal for Elisha. The joy of it seemed to spur her to ask her husband to arrange a prophet’s chamber in their house, outfitted with “a bed for him there, and a table and a chair and a lampstand” (v 10). It would always be available to Elisha. This was deeply appreciated, so he said to her, “Look, you have been concerned for us with all this care. What can I do for you? Do you want me to speak on your behalf to the king or to the commander of the army?” (v 13). To this she responded, “I dwell among my own people.” In other words, I’m content with my situation in life. But then his servant Gehazi informed him that she was childless. So Elisha told her, “About this time next year you shall embrace a son” (v 16). She thought it was too good to be true, but, sure enough, her womb burst into life “and bore a son” (v 17). Happy ending? Not quite. One day, while visiting his father’s reapers, he cried “My head, my head!” (v 19). Carried to the house, he soon died on his mother’s lap. Lifelessness again! How often we must be reminded that earthly hopes have earthly limits. “Hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance” (Rom 8:24-25). In the end, earthly hopes fade and fizzle. Only heaven has disappointment-proof hope.