In the days when Ahab reigned as king over Israel, he did what was evil in the sight of the Lord, more than all the kings who had come before him. He took as his wife Jezebel, the daughter of Ethbaal, king of the Sidonians, and he served and worshiped Baal. Ahab built an altar for Baal in the house of Baal, which he had erected in Samaria, and he made an Asherah pole, provoking the Lord to anger. The Lord’s wrath burned against Israel, for they had turned their hearts away from Him, the God of their fathers, and had embraced the idols of the nations.

In the midst of this darkness, the word of the Lord came to Elijah the Tishbite, a prophet from Gilead. Elijah was a man of rugged appearance, clothed in a garment of hair with a leather belt around his waist. His countenance bore the marks of a man who walked closely with God, and his voice carried the authority of the Almighty. The Lord said to him, “Go from here and turn eastward and hide yourself by the brook Cherith, which is east of the Jordan. You shall drink from the brook, and I have commanded the ravens to feed you there.”

Elijah obeyed the Lord without hesitation. He journeyed to the brook Cherith, a narrow, rocky stream that wound its way through the wilderness. The air was dry, and the sun beat down mercilessly, but Elijah found solace in the shade of the overhanging cliffs. There, by the brook, he made his dwelling. Each morning and evening, as the sun painted the sky with hues of gold and crimson, the ravens came. They brought him bread and meat, their black wings glinting in the sunlight as they delivered the provisions God had ordained. Elijah drank from the brook, its cool waters sustaining him in the barren land.

Days turned into weeks, and the brook continued to flow, a lifeline in the wilderness. But as the drought deepened, the brook began to dwindle. The once-bubbling stream grew shallow, its waters receding until only a trickle remained. Elijah watched as the earth cracked under the relentless heat, and the grass withered to a brittle brown. Yet he trusted in the Lord, knowing that His provision would not fail.

Then the word of the Lord came to Elijah again, saying, “Arise, go to Zarephath, which belongs to Sidon, and dwell there. Behold, I have commanded a widow there to feed you.” Zarephath was a coastal town in the region of Sidon, the very land from which Jezebel had come. It was a place steeped in idolatry, far from the safety of Israel. Yet Elijah did not question the Lord’s command. He rose and set out on the journey, his sandals crunching against the parched earth.

When he arrived at the gates of Zarephath, he saw a widow gathering sticks. Her face was lined with weariness, and her hands trembled as she bent to pick up the dry branches. Elijah called to her, “Please bring me a little water in a vessel, that I may drink.” As she turned to fetch the water, he added, “And please bring me a morsel of bread in your hand.”

The widow stopped and looked at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. “As the Lord your God lives,” she said, “I have nothing baked, only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. And now I am gathering a couple of sticks that I may go in and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it and die.”

Elijah’s heart ached for her, but he spoke with the confidence of a man who knew the power of God. “Do not fear,” he said. “Go and do as you have said. But first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterward make something for yourself and your son. For thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘The jar of flour shall not be spent, and the jug of oil shall not be empty, until the day that the Lord sends rain upon the earth.’”

The widow hesitated, her hands clutching the sticks tightly. She looked into Elijah’s eyes and saw not the desperation of a beggar, but the assurance of a prophet. She nodded and hurried home. There, she took the last of her flour and oil and baked a small cake for Elijah. As she handed it to him, she felt a strange peace settle over her heart.

When she returned to her jar of flour and jug of oil, she found them just as Elijah had said. The flour was not spent, and the oil did not run dry. Day after day, she baked bread for Elijah, her son, and herself. The jar and the jug became a symbol of God’s faithfulness, a miracle that sustained them through the long months of drought.

But the trials were not over. One day, the widow’s son fell ill. His breath grew shallow, and his body grew weak until he could no longer move. The widow’s heart was torn with grief. She cried out to Elijah, “What have you against me, O man of God? Have you come to me to bring my sin to remembrance and to cause the death of my son?”

Elijah took the boy from her arms and carried him to the upper room where he stayed. He laid the child on his bed and cried out to the Lord, “O Lord my God, have you brought calamity even upon the widow with whom I sojourn, by killing her son?” Then he stretched himself upon the child three times and pleaded, “O Lord my God, let this child’s life come into him again.”

The Lord heard Elijah’s prayer, and the life of the child returned to him. Elijah picked up the boy and carried him down to his mother. “See, your son lives,” he said.

The widow fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “Now I know that you are a man of God,” she said, “and that the word of the Lord in your mouth is truth.”

And so, in the midst of famine and despair, God’s power was made manifest. Through Elijah, He provided for the widow and her son, and through the widow’s faith, He revealed His glory. The jar of flour was not spent, and the jug of oil did not run dry, just as the Lord had promised. And Elijah remained in Zarephath, a beacon of hope in a land gripped by drought, until the day the Lord would send rain upon the earth.