Have you ever tried to place yourself inside a Bible story? I read and imagined this story as I was caring for an elderly parent. I must also admit to being a child who asked way too many questions.
8 One day Elisha went to Shunem. And a well-to-do woman was there, who urged him to stay for a meal. So whenever he came by, he stopped there to eat. 9 She said to her husband, “I know that this man who often comes our way is a holy man of God. 10 Let’s make a small room on the roof and put in it a bed and a table, a chair and a lamp for him. Then he can stay there whenever he comes to us.” 11 One day when Elisha came, he went up to his room and lay down there. 12 He said to his servant Gehazi, “Call the Shunammite.” So he called her, and she stood before him. 13 Elisha said to him, “Tell her, ‘You have gone to all this trouble for us. Now what can be done for you? Can we speak on your behalf to the king or the commander of the army?’” She replied, “I have a home among my own people.” 14 “What can be done for her?” Elisha asked. Gehazi said, “She has no son, and her husband is old.” 2 Kings 4:8-14, NIV
I sit with grandma every afternoon. She’s very old, and in the summer heat we sit in an inside room where the walls are thick. I fan her, sponge her face with damp cloths, and try to get her to drink and eat just a little.
You might think it boring, but it suits me just fine. My grandma has cared for me since I was a baby, and we love each other. This house, with its special room on the roof for the prophet, was her house first. Now it is my father’s. The vineyard and wheat fields are his now, too.
Mama says I am just like Grandma. Oh, I don’t look like her. I look more like Bithiah, Grandma’s handmaid who died last year. I’m big for my age, and I’m strong, too. Grandma’s always been little and fragile-looking, like a bird. But I like to do things for people, and Mama says that is just like Grandma.
Grandma tells me stories, and my favorites are the ones about the prophet Elisha. Today, Grandma tells me all about how he came to eat here and how she saw he needed a place to stay when he was traveling to Jezreel. So, they built a room for him. It’s still up on the roof, but it stands empty because Grandma says it is reserved only for the prophet, but she forgets that he is gone from this earth. She likes to tell me about how Elisha wanted to talk to the King about making my grandparents important members in the royal court. They declined, though. My brothers think that would be something special—to be captains in the King’s guards. But I like it here. That’s how Grandma felt, too. When I asked her why she said no, she told me that they were happy here helping their own people.
I asked, “Weren’t there any people by the King that you could help?”
She laughed and gave me a big hug. “Oh, but this is where God put us. We were content.”
“But you were sad,” I said with a frown, trying to understand why my truth-speaking grandmother didn’t confess this reality. “Why didn’t you tell Elisha you wanted a baby?”
She took her arm from my shoulder and turned away. “We had been married for many years and had grown used to the way things were.”
“But you cried all alone in your room, and sometimes …” I stopped talking then because I could see Grandma was upset. Besides, I had promised Bithiah I wouldn’t tell.
“Who told you that?”
I just look down. I always told Grandma the truth, but I’d promised.
Grandma waited, then patted my hand with a sigh. “As if I didn’t know. That Bithiah. I could never keep a secret from her.”
“Then, why Grandma? Why didn’t you tell the prophet?”
“Well, your grandfather and I had been married a long time, and he was older than me. Before we married, it had never occurred to me that I might not have any children. But the years went by, and still no children, and I came to believe that God had other things in mind for me. I told myself that it would have been hard to help all the people who needed me if I had been busy and preoccupied with my own children. I might not have noticed how weary Elisha got on his journeys to Jezreel. We might not have built the prophet’s chamber. I guess I was used to how things were.
“But, Grandma, you cried.”
“Yes, I did sometimes. Deep inside I wanted a child more than anything, but maybe God didn’t want me to have a child—so I felt guilty for wanting it so badly. When I needed to cry, I hid in my room.”
“How come you didn’t ask Elisha then?
She frowned, but changed it to a smile and touched my cheek. “You don’t let up, child, do you? I guess I was afraid to ask.”
“Afraid? Afraid of what?”
“What if I asked the question out loud, and Elisha told me that God said ‘no.’ That pain would be more than I could bear—I wouldn’t even be able to pretend to hope for something I knew was impossible.” Grandma’s eyes filled with tears. “I couldn’t ask, child. I just couldn’t.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma,” I held her hand and hugged it to my chest. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“That was a long time ago, sweetheart. And I know better now.”
“But Elisha’s servant Gehazi knew, didn’t he? He told Elisha what you wanted,” I wanted to stop her tears.
And it worked. Grandma laughed and wiped her cheeks with her fingers. “Yes, well, Gehazi probably talked to Bithiah, too.”
I wonder…
Is there a need or desire in your life that you are afraid to ask for? Is there something you want so badly that you are even afraid to ask God for it in case the answer will be no?
26 In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. Romans 8:26, NIV
Thank you, Lord, for seeing my needs and knowing the desires of my heart even when I am so afraid that I can’t form the words Your incredible love for me is so boundless that your Holy Spirit prays for me when I cannot. I offer you my humblest thanks and praise. Amen.
Kathleen S Evenhouse 