A.W. Pink
“Change and decay in all around I see.” We live in a mutable world where nothing is stable, and where life is full of strange vicissitudes. We cannot, and we should not, expect things to go on smoothly for us for any length of time while we are sojourning in this land of sin and mortality. It would be contrary to the present constitution of our lot as fallen creatures, for “man is born unto trouble as the sparks fly upward”; neither would it be for our good if we were altogether exempted from affliction. Though we be the children of God, the objects of His special favour, yet this does not free us from the ordinary calamities of life. Sickness and death may enter our dwellings at any time: they may attack us personally or those who are nearest and dearest to us, and we are obliged to bow to the sovereign dispensations of Him who ruleth over all. These are commonplace remarks, we know, nevertheless they contain a truth of which—unpalatable though it be—we need constant reminding.
Though we are quite familiar with the fact mentioned above, and see it illustrated daily on every side, yet we are reluctant and slow to acknowledge its application to ourselves . Such is human nature: we wish to ignore the unpleasant, and persuade ourselves that if our present lot be a happy one it will remain so for some time to come. But no matter how healthy we be, how vigorous our constitution, how well provided for financially, we must not think that our mountain is so strong it cannot be moved ( Psalm 30:6,7). Rather must we train ourselves to hold temporal mercies with a light hand, and use the relations and comforts of this life as though we had them not, 1 Corinthians 7:30, remembering that “the fashion of this world passeth away.” Our rest is not here, and if we build our nest in any earthly tree it should be with the realization that sooner or later the whole forest will be cut down.
Like many a one both before and since, the widow of Zarephath might have been tempted to think that all her troubles were now over. She might reasonably expect a blessing from entertaining the servant of God in her home, and a real and liberal blessing she received. In consequence of sheltering him, she and her son were supplied by a Divine miracle in a time of famine for “many days”; and from this she might draw the conclusion that she had nothing further to fear. Yet the next thing recorded in our narrative is, “And it came to pass after these things, that the son of the woman, the mistress of the house, fell sick; and his sickness was so sore, that there was no breath left in him” ( 1 Kings 17:17).
The language in which this pathetic incident is couched seems to denote that her son was stricken suddenly, and so sorely that he expired quickly, before there was opportunity for Elijah to pray for his recovery.
