Can I Get a Light?

Elijah was the originator of the head to head competition. It was a dual…a modern day Coke or Pepsi taste test. Let the people decide which God/god is true. In the red corner stood Elijah alone as the last prophet of God. In the blue corner stood 450 prophets of baal and 400 prophets of the goddess asherah. (It was a little crowded in their corner.)

Elijah suggested each side build altars, sacrifice bulls and let the true God/god light the sacrifice.

They built their altars. Each side laid their bulls on the altar for sacrifice. The prophets of Baal began calling on him to set the bull ablaze. Time went by. Nothing…no fire. Yet another god of this world promising much, but delivering nothing. Thousands of years later, nothing has changed.

Elijah was talking trash. “Baal must be sleeping, going potty, traveling on business, or maybe just hard of hearing.” I love it…talking trash in the name of the Lord. I didn’t know this was allowed.

Then Elijah steps up and pours a truckload of water on his bull…just to put any doubt of the greatness of God to rest. He calls on God to light the sacrifice and fire falls from Heaven and consumes the drenched bull. Everyone falls face down and gets it…they finally get it.

This makes me think of my situation right now. I view each statistic of danger as another bucket of water. “One out of three ruptures end up in death.” Pour it on my sacrifice. “There is a significant risk of stroke with this procedure.” Bring it. “Only 2 neurosurgeons in the United States would attempt this type of procedure.” Pour away…oops, you missed a spot. “I’ve only seen 3 aneurysm’s this large in 15 years.” Douse it; fill the trenches I have dug around my altar.

My God is still able to bring the fire from Heaven and consume it all. How do you like your steak prepared? Steaks for everyone! Prime rib for you, sir…filet for you, maam.

My God is not baal. My God is Author of Life. He alone holds my statistics in His hand. For the God who flung the stars into the heavens, breathed life into man, painted the spots on each ladybug, an aneurysm ain’t nothing.

As buckets of water get poured on your altar, remember the faithfulness of God.