1 Kings 17:1-7
We all have experiences, interactions, and conversations which, unbeknownst to us, shape our trajectory early in life and become a regular source of our development over time. Whether positive or negative, each contributes to who we are and who we’re becoming. I grieve with you any early trauma, harsh words, or mistreatment, and I pray that those are being redeemed under the power of Jesus for your own beautiful and purposeful identity as God’s child.
God’s work of using His Word in my heart began before I had a choice in the matter. I was born to first-time parents, Bob and Carla, in the early 80’s and given the pre-meditated name, Cherith. Growing up, I knew I would never walk into a store and find a pencil or a keychain with my name on it, although I would always scan the C’s, just in case.
But my parents made sure that I knew the backstory for Cherith, found in 1 Kings 17. Elijah the prophet had informed the wicked king Ahab that there would be no rain for three years, a terrible plight for an agrarian society. God told Elijah to run for his life - probably from both the king and the famine - to the brook Cherith, where he could hide near a water source and be fed by ravens for a while.
From this scene, my parents set a vision for me to be, what they defined as, “a provider of encouragement” like the brook Cherith in a desert season. I didn’t know then what a gift they gave in speaking a purpose statement like that over me. I owe so much to them. As I grew older and fell in love with Hebrew, I learned that Cherith means cutting, a separation. Hmm. That doesn’t sound encouraging.
Cuts
Valleys
Ravines
Crevices
Gouges in rock
Deep slices in the earth
These are the places, broken and opened, where a source of water could be found in a time of famine.
And so it is with encouragement: it flows best out of those parts of our lives that were once whole, then split in two. Out of these crevices, carved and scarred, God can miraculously sustain someone else if we’re willing to invite them to the riverbank. May your valleys shape you into a deep source of encouragement in another’s famine, even if you feel you're just a trickle of hope.
What friend, colleague, or child could you inspire with a vision for their life, like my parents did for me, by pointing out a truth that “has their name written all over it”?