Elijah is always staunchly Elijah.  He has his own brand of humor, his own sense of style, his own unique strengths (and weaknesses) in how he learns.  He endures regular ribbing from his older siblings about some of his more original preferences, but he doesn’t back down.  And these are all things I love about my Buddy.

But the quality I want to specifically note on this eleventh birthday of his is his compassionate heart.  It was impressed upon me recently when I sprained my ankle pretty badly.  Elijah was by my side, doing anything and everything I needed, right from the start.  Now, I think it’s worth noting that hard work isn’t generally one of his strong suits.  But for me, he practically bent over backward to serve in any way he could.  And even in general he is especially tender-hearted.  He makes sure to give me a hug every morning.  He comforts me if I’m sad.  He patiently, kindly instructs and plays with his younger siblings.  He is still a natural encourager, when he feels like it’s safe to open up.

I love his heart.  So much.  There are lessons to be learned and pitfalls to look out for that come with that sensitivity, but I think he’s learning.

I’m thankful for these eleven years and the blessing Elijah has been to me, to our family.  He brings laughter and energy and joy to our home.  I’m so happy I get to celebrate him today.

I think I have always subconsciously thought that a false prophet knows he is a false prophet.  I’ve figured that they must just find some benefit in the lie.  In some stories in the Bible it can seem like its obvious to everyone that the false prophets are purposely leading people astray…or at least purposely tickling their ears.  I don’t know that I had honestly ever considered the possibility that false prophets might believe what they’re peddling…until reading the story of Elijah on Mt. Carmel for what seems like the thousandth time.

I guess I’ve always, somehow, seen it as lighthearted.  I know it’s not really, but something about Elijah’s almost cocksure attitude, and the awesome way God shows up have served to make the story inspirational and not too scary to me.  But lately, I’ve thought a lot more about those 450 prophets of baal.  I’d always kind of viewed them as a joke – powerless, pathetic, charlatans.  I thought they couldn’t possibly have actually thought they served the real God.  Their actions seem to tell a different story, though.

While Elijah looked on mockingly, these false prophets were dead serious, even going so far as to cut themselves to try to make their “god” hear them.  What kind of delusion must they have been under to believe in a non-existent deity so much that they would take such extreme action?  And if they would do that to themselves, in the name of serving baal, what would they do to others?

Although the Bible stories about Elijah always seem to me to have a not-so-serious undertone, his circumstances were often dire.  Speaking the truth cost him dearly and caused him to rely solely on God’s miraculous provision more than once, just to survive.

I realize it can seem like a stretch to draw parallels between Elijah’s experience and that of Christians in the world today, but I’m at least learning the importance of recognizing the seriousness of our circumstances – the reality that the father of lies has completely captivated the hearts and minds of so many people, and they are dead-set against any acknowledgement of Who the true God is.

It honestly scares me.  For as much as I can bemoan past circumstances of life, I can’t deny that life is still pretty comfortable, pretty easy.  And I’d be lying if I said that I’m really okay with that changing.  But I think that’s a big part of the problem.  While we have an enemy ready to do whatever it takes to gain the upper hand, we have many Christians who just want to do whatever it takes to stay comfortable, to avoid change, to live in “peace”.

I’ve thought a lot about Jesus’ statement that He did not come to bring peace, but a sword (Matthew 10:34), as so many people in the Church are shouting from the proverbial rooftops about love and unity and compassion.  Not that those are bad things, or wrong things, but they are being pursued at the expense of truth, and, I think, with an underlying motivation of personal comfort.

I’m feeling challenged, I guess.  Will I stand for truth no matter the cost?  Is there anything hindering me from living in full submission to the Lord?  I won’t pretend to know what the future holds, but I don’t want to be surprised if, or when, serving the Lord means making truly hard choices and learning what it means to know the fellowship of His suffering.