Imagine with me you’re a woman living in ancient Israel. There’s a famine happening, because there’s a war happening. Your Syrian neighbors to the north have been battling against your home country and trying to invade your city. Food is scarce. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten. You’ve got at least one son, and your husband is likely out fighting in the war. You’ve got to figure out how to keep yourself alive. 

Nothing’s being harvested in the fields, and no new wine is being pressed. Prices for food are sky high. People have resorted to selling unclean animals, like donkeys, in parts for consumption. The thought of eating a donkey’s head would normally make you cringe, but right now, you’d eat anything.

You’re in agony. You’re hungry - deeply, desperately hungry like you’ve never been before. So hungry you consider doing things you never thought you’d do. 

In 2 Kings 6, we find one such woman. She and another unnamed woman are so desperate for food they make a pact to eat their sons - one that very night, and one the next day.

Things don’t turn out the way she planned, though. We meet her as she is crying out for help to Jehoram, the King of Israel:

“Now as the king of Israel (Jehoram) was passing by on the wall, a woman cried out to him, saying, ‘Help, my lord, O king!’ And he said, “If the Lord will not help you, how shall I help you? From the threshing floor, or from the winepress?’ And the king asked her, ‘What is your trouble?’ She answered, ‘This woman said to me, “Give your son, that we may eat him today, and we will eat my son tomorrow.” So we boiled my son and ate him. And on the next day I said to her, “Give your son, that we may eat him.” But she has hidden her son.’ When the king heard the words of the woman, he tore his clothes..” (2 Kings 6:26-30)

What a devastating story. A family wrecked by war and famine, two desperate women, and a helpless king driven into continual mourning. The woman came to him looking for justice, but the golden era of wise and just Israeli kings had passed. The king entertained her question, but provided no solution. Her story broke him and pushed him over the edge. He was openly wrecked by the state of his nation.

The idea (and even more so, the reality) of cannibalism sends shivers down our spines. How could a mother even think of eating her son? How could the second mother in the story eat someone else’s child? We are so far removed from this kind of famine we cannot understand their level of hopelessness and hunger. 

I find that in times when I am overwhelmed, confused, shocked, or even disgusted by God’s Word, I need to search the Bible for more. I need a fuller picture. I need context. When I encountered this passage, I wondered, “What else does God say about this?” 

I found an answer in Leviticus 26:27-29:

“But if in spite of this you will not listen to me, but walk contrary to me, then I will walk contrary to you in fury, and I myself will discipline you sevenfold for your sins. You shall eat the flesh of your sons and you shall eat the flesh of your daughters.”

Woah. 

When God gave His people the law, He clearly laid out His responses to their actions. If the people obeyed the law, they would experience God’s blessing. If they turned away from Him in rebellion, they would experience His punishment. Along with famine, disease, war, and destruction, cannibalism is mentioned in the long list of curses for disobeying God’s law (Lev. 26 and Deut. 28:53-57.) 

God was not surprised to see those two unnamed women make their grievous deal. He warned His people about it hundreds of years before. He spoke of cannibalism explicitly through the prophet Jeremiah and the writer of Lamentations (Jer. 19:9, Lam. 2:20, 4:10.) He even said that ears of all who heard about these things would tingle (Jer. 19:3.) The cannibalism in this story was the result of Israel’s collective rejection of God.

It’s not that these women were horrible, cold, vicious, or unfeeling. In fact, God said “the most tender and refined woman” would succumb to distress and resort to eating her child under the curse (Deut. 28:56.) Lamentations says “the hands of compassionate women have boiled their own children” (Lam. 4:10.) These weren’t careless mothers. 

He’s our daily bread, our sustenance, satisfying every desperate craving and depraved thought…the source of our hope and turns our mourning into dancing.

Israel, as a nation, made a covenant with God to walk in His ways. They promised to follow His plan for a flourishing life (the law,) and in return, He promised never to leave them or forsake them. But, they broke the covenant over and over, and as a result, they bore the consequences over and over. The woman in our story, along with the rest of God’s people, collectively bore the curse for deserting the one true God. Breaking relationship with God has serious consequences, both then and now.

We don’t hear anything more in the passage about what happened to the woman. We know her life was broken and her community was suffering. We know she endured great loss. We also know the Lord brought miraculous economic recovery to Samaria the very next day through the words of Elisha (2 Kings 7.) So maybe she was able to eat again, and maybe her husband came back from war, but my guess is that if she lived, she lived under guilt and shame for her actions toward her son - the guilt and shame of the curse. 

But unlike the woman, who could only look forward to a coming Messiah, we have a Savior, a Snake Crusher - Jesus Christ of Nazareth. He became a curse for us and redeemed us from the law (Gal. 3:13.) He kept our side of the covenant perfectly. He was rejected by God the Father, that we might be accepted and blessed. He gave us His Spirit, who helps us to listen to and walk with God. He’s our daily bread, our sustenance, satisfying every desperate craving and depraved thought. He is the source of our hope and turns our mourning into dancing (Ps. 30:11.) 

May we live with an awareness of our Great God and all of His blessings. May we dance at the thought of the lifted curse! May we believe with faith that Jesus is coming again to make all of the wrong things right and the sad things untrue. May we leave strange passages of Scripture like this one with hope, believing that Jesus has or will redeem it all.

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Soon afterward, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out—the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, “Don’t cry.” Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, get up!” The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother. They were all filled with awe and praised God. “A great prophet has appeared among us,” they said. “God has come to help his people.” This news about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country. - ‭‭Luke‬ ‭7:11-17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

It’s name meaning “beauty,” Nain lay not too distant from Nazareth, another little village in the region of Galilee. At the town gate, we meet a widow as she leads the funeral procession for her only son, walking his body outside the bounds of their village to be buried. Our introduction to this nameless woman is made by way of her loss. She has lost her husband, and now her only son. She is a woman known by her sorrow. She is not alone in her grieving, but it has named her in a way unlike any other in that procession. 

I can’t help but wonder if the disciples and crowd accompanying Jesus tried to give a wide berth to the widow and her company, wanting to distance themselves from the grieving. Were they discussing Jesus’ recent healing of the centurion’s servant (Luke 7:1-10)? Or some other event or teaching they had experienced in following Jesus? Regardless, Jesus was not interested in just passing by this widow. 

Where the end seemed inevitable, the outcome decided, hope met the widow unexpectedly; Jesus entered her story.

He went to her, forging a path between the two crowds. He offered her comfort in a simple, tender phrase. Then He touched the bier. Jesus not only saw and acknowledged the widow’s grief, He stopped and tangibly entered into it. The threat of impurity did not impede His compassion nor stall His hand. He was not afraid. His heart moved Him to action, and with a single command the widow’s son spoke, moved, lived! 

In the span of a breath, that which the widow lost was returned. She could remember the past without the twofold weight of heartbreak and dare to look to the future without fear. In resurrecting one life, Jesus restored two. For in those days, a son would take on the role as provider for a widowed mother. Without a husband or a son to care for her, a woman depended entirely on the charity of others as she could inherit no land and had no means of sustaining herself. As a widow, to lose an only son was not just to suffer the loss of a dear child, but the loss of your own life in many ways as well. 

In Luke’s account of this encounter between Jesus and the widow of Nain, the widow is attributed no words of her own. The crowd together marveled and glorified God declaring he “has come to help his people” (vs. 16) after the deceased young man is given life again, but the widow is without an individual voice. She did not call out to Jesus as He approached the town, she did not plead with Him for a miracle, or profess her faith in His power to heal. Jesus came to her aside from any single action on her part. When things seemed darkest for this nameless woman, when she was at her most powerless, that is when He made His way to her. Not because she asked. Not because she believed. But because Jesus saw her and had compassion.

For death cannot swallow our hope nor any grave hide the true, glorious light that is Jesus.

Where the end seemed inevitable, the outcome decided, hope met the widow unexpectedly; Jesus entered her story. 

We meet her in the midst of the unknown, on the cusp of a miracle. We are privy to but a moment, a moment where grace intercedes and the brilliance of God’s kingdom shines through. We get to see the widow’s story in light of not only what was lost, but what was restored at the hands of a merciful Christ. For death cannot swallow our hope nor any grave hide the true, glorious light that is Jesus. 

And it is that True Light that pursues you even now. Jesus seeks to meet us in the midst of the pain we carry today. Whatever it may be, it is not too much for Him. It is not too dark or unclean. He will not turn away from you. He will dare to rest his hand on your sorrow and meet your gaze with hope. He longs to give you life. His life. His resurrection is yours.

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Robin Zastrow wants to live in a world where coffee never gets cold and kindness abounds. When she's not discovering the wonders of construction paper and cardboard tubes with her two little ones, you can find her sneaking in another few pages of a book or jotting down bits of writing on scraps of paper.

One of her favorite Scriptures is:“Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.” Psalm 33:20-22 ESV

In Exodus 35, we see a community coming together to build the tabernacle of the Lord. The writer mentions “everyone” several times, and other times specifically mentions the women and their specific contribution. These women remain nameless, but are known for their abundant generosity (v5,) the stewardship of their God-given skills (v 10 and v25,) their stirred/moved hearts (v21,26,29,) and their willingness to work for the Lord (v29.) 

To give  context, if we back up in Exodus to chapter 34, we read  God has just renewed His covenant with His people. He’s given the ten commandments to Moses to give to his people on Mt. Sinai. Moses saw the glory of God and his face shone as a result. He gives them instructions for how to practice Sabbath. Afterwards, God commands them to set up a tabernacle where He would meet with them and the place where He would accept sacrifice for their sin and restore them to Himself. 

I see in these women the hope of glory Paul talks about in Colossians 1:27. The tabernacle gave opportunity for God’s people to meet with Him. They saw the hope of God’s glory etched in Moses’ very face. So they worked with everything God had given them, and out of their stirred, moved, willing, and generous hearts, they brought glory to God through their obedience. 

In John 1:14, we read, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” The word “dwelt” literally means “tabernacled.” Jesus came to tabernacle with us.

God has built His tabernacle within us. He is IN us! This is our hope of glory…

In the Old Testament, these women worked to build the tabernacle for God’s glory. Now, God has built His tabernacle within us. He is IN us! This is our hope of glory, and it is in this hope that we do the same as these women did. We generously give what we have been given. We allow God to move and stir our hearts. We are willing to obey. We use our skills and gifts and resources to glorify God. Why? Because it is the natural outpouring of the Holy Spirit’s presence in the tabernacle of our hearts. We have the hope of glory, and we want others to see our lives and to share in this hope. 

So this passage begs these questions. Are we willing? What has God given us, and how are we using it? In 1 Corinthians 10:31, Paul instructs us to do everything to the glory of God. Like these women mentioned in Exodus, are there ways in which we could join our gifts together with God’s church to glorify God? 

I love how this account is found after God’s instructions for rest. We, too, work to the glory of God from our rest---rest in the gospel! Let’s remember the work on the cross is finished, and now, we work from a place of a great hope in the good news of Jesus! We “get to” glorify God, together, as an offering of worship for what He has done for us. So let’s say “yes Lord!” and get to work!

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Jillian Vincent loves Jesus. She's a wife, a mother of boys, and a Dayton enthusiast. Jillian currently is a stay at home mama and spends nap times writing and discipling other women. She would (almost) die for an avocado, a cup of coffee made by her husband, a novel that makes her cry, and a bouquet of sunflowers.

 “As long as we have our stories there is hope.”
-Henri Nouwen

“Will you read me a story?” is a common request in our household. It doesn’t matter if you are family, friend, or acquaintance. If you sit near one of the stacks of picture books, it’s likely a pair of tiny hands will bring you at least one, if not four, of them, accompanied by a pleading smile and excited eyes. Regardless of how silly or unusual the premise of each story seems to be, there is a bit of hope to be found in them more often than not. From Put Me in the Zoo by Robert Lopshire, I am reminded  I belong somewhere, but it might not be where I think. From The Adventures of Beekle: The Unimaginary Friend by Dan Santat, I am mindful that even when I’m doing the seeking, I could still need to be found myself.

As our year of DWITW 365 draws to an end, I can’t help but reflect on all the stories we have read. I’ve watched the genealogy of Jesus unfold across the pages, from Abraham to David to Joseph. I’ve been able to savor the grand chronicle that spans from creation to fall to redemption to restoration; from the Tree of Life in Genesis to the Tree of Life in Revelation. When I look back on it all, a few verses from the middle of Revelation sit in my mind:

“And I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, ‘Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God. And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death. Therefore, rejoice, O heavens and you who dwell in them! But woe to you, O earth and sea, for the devil has come down to you in great wrath, because he knows that his time is short!’ ” (Revelation 12:10-12)

By the blood of Jesus, we are made conquerors. By the testifying of Christ and the work He had done, we conquer.

Our accuser has been conquered, our adversary overcome! Not only through Jesus’ death is the kingdom of God victorious, but also through the testimony of His people. A people who treasure their Savior and God more dearly than their very lives. By the blood of Jesus, we are made conquerors (Rom. 8:37.) By the testifying of Christ and the work He had done, we conquer. While God’s victory needn’t rest on the deeds of people, He chose to include us.

As so many before us, we get to participate. We get to be a part of this great story that is still unfurling all around us, even though the end has been decided. We get to speak of what Jesus has done, of His death and resurrection, of the new life He has given us.

And this testimony, this story we are to proclaim, to whom do I tell it? Anyone. Everyone. But especially my children. I tell them of a big God who became a tiny baby, of impossible hopes that took on skin, of beginnings and endings and beginning again. And in the light of that hope, I tell them of hurts and healing that go beyond kisses and band aids. Of death that brings life. Of Jesus.

And so I wage war against the darkness with my words. I fight to remember. I fight to remind. I fight to give my voice to the Spirit, that the truth of what I see and know of God and His kingdom, His Son, and His Spirit may be imparted to others. Through the vibrancy of Christ’s blood and the unfading tenacity of His love, we are transformed. Our stories merge with His in a tapestry of memory, time, and divine intervention. An intervention undertaken by a Man, whose face we’ve yet to see, who loved us enough to give up His life so we could dance in His presence forever. So that we could become part of the community He knew before the first flower bloomed or the first wind blew.

in the light of that hope, I tell them of hurts and healing that go beyond kisses and band aids. Of death that brings life. Of Jesus.

I can’t help but think of John when he was writing his gospel as I’m imagining the expanse of Jesus stories there were back then. Too many to count, too many to read them all. Too many for the world to hold (John 21:25.) It’s from that abundance of stories, that the testimony of Jesus’ work in my heart and life has bloomed into victorious life. A life of a conqueror in Christ. 

Sisters, as you reflect on the past year, what are the testimonies of Jesus that have grown from your heart? What evidences of His love have given you life? How has He been faithful to refine your mind? What is the story of Jesus you need to tell?

In 2019, the DWITW blog will be focusing on the gospels, one each quarter of the year. We would love nothing more than for you to share your own testimonies of what you are learning as you read and study the life of our Savior. If you feel prompted to share, you can do so via our submissions page. We are so thankful for the work the Lord has done this year. We look on to the days ahead with great expectation of the stories we will hear.

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Robin Zastrow wants to live in a world where coffee never gets cold and kindness abounds. When she's not discovering the wonders of construction paper and cardboard tubes with her two little ones, you can find her sneaking in another few pages of a book or jotting down bits of writing on scraps of paper.

One of her favorite Scriptures is:“Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.” Psalm 33:20-22 ESV

Can we be honest for a moment? Are you like me and wrestle with the idea of death and destruction by a loving God? I was tempted to skim over this week’s reading laden with conquest and geography. But I didn’t. And God spoke to my heart in a tender way because of it.

What was so important about the land the Israelites needed to take possession of anyway? Didn’t it belong to others who were already dwelling there? Was God just being cruel and socially unjust? What kind of a God would do that?! We’ve all encountered difficult passages we have either wrestled with or wanted to ignore because they’re challenging and uncomfortable.

Our reading this week is like that. It’s messy. And in our Western Christian culture, we don’t do messy well.

How often I am quick to take my culture and insert it into the Bible. And when I do, I come away with a misunderstanding of the passage and most importantly, misinformation about God.

Instead of ignoring the “elephant in the room,” I decided to face it. First, I had to remember that God delivered His Word to us in the context of an Eastern culture that is more organic and relational than ours. This culture also has a “two-handed” approach to thinking (“On the one hand…. but on the other hand…”) and welcomes discussion and wrestling with the tension of opposing options.

Personally, I seek comfort in having all the “right answers.” I cling to truth as a cherished possession I own. Everything should be black and white, balanced and fair, and coincide with my own values. I pull truth out of my pocket and wave it around when I’m backed into a corner. I place my full weight, trust, and life behind that truth as I’ve come to understand it. I even find security in it. While there is nothing inherently wrong with that, there’s not much right with it either. And so began the struggle, and the Lord calling me back to center through the tension found in Joshua.

As I dug in, I learned something helpful: the book of Joshua was written in the form of an ancient land grant. Land grants were made for the benefit of vassals (slaves/people) living under a suzerain (lord/king) -- much different than treaties which were made for the king’s own personal benefit.

Just as God offered the Israelites kingdom identity, I need to understand the identity I have in Him as my King.

In a land grant, the land remained a part of the kingdom and was under the king’s control and protection. As long as the nation to whom the land was given remained loyal to the king, the land was theirs to keep. This arrangement gave the people a kingdom identity and sense of security. So what does this have to do with the Israelites? In the book of Joshua, God takes on the role of the suzerain. As such, there was no place for those who proclaimed loyalty to other gods.

God was carving out a place of identity for His people, and the world would know He is the one true King.

As I was digesting this, I began seeing similarities of my own heart to the “land.” Just as God offered the Israelites kingdom identity, I need to understand the identity I have in Him as my King. Just as He helped them vanquish the enemies and strongholds that stood in their path, I need to address the stubborn enemies and strongholds of my heart.

The Promised Land was to be a place of rest and kingdom living for the Israelites--a place where God’s glory would be on display for all the nations so they too might come to know Him as the one true King. This made me stop and reflect. Is God’s glory on display in my life? Am I tolerating strongholds and sins that are, in effect, enemies toward God? What is it that keeps me from enjoying the provision of my King -- from fully living in that place of security, peace, and identity He desires for me to enjoy?

These are the things God tenderly spoke to my heart as I read this week’s passage. And in them I find hope in a God who fights for me.

““How long will you wait before you begin to take possession of the land that the LORD, the God of your ancestors has given you?””

— Joshua 18:3

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Jackie Perseghetti wants to live in a world where every human realizes they are walking wounded and in need of God’s grace. Her heart is to be God’s person at God’s time in the life of another and she looks for God-given moments to breathe life and encouragement. When Jackie is not going on adfuntures with her hubby (adventure with fun at the center) or teaching drums or the art of papercrafting, you can find her digging in her garden, storytelling to her grandkids, or sharing the stirrings of her heart at  www.smallstepsintofreedom.wordpress.com  She takes great comfort in her favorite Bible verses: Isaiah 41:10 and Isaiah 46:4.