Growing Stronger

A Reflection on the First Reading for June 26th:
​Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

---

1 Kings
19.16b, 19-21

The Lord spoke to the Prophet Elijah and said, “You shall anoint Elisha, son of Shaphat, as Prophet in your place.”

So Elijah set out from there, and found Elisha, who was ploughing. There were twelve yoke of oxen ahead of him, and he was with the twelfth.

Elijah passed by Elisha and threw his mantle over him. Elisha left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, “Let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you.”

Then Elijah said to him, “Go back again; for what have I done to you?” Elisha returned from following Elijah, took the yoke of oxen, and slaughtered them; using the equipment from the oxen, he boiled their flesh, and gave it to the people, and they ate. Then Elisha set out and followed Elijah, and became his servant.
​

There was a time when I felt proud of how “strong” the “plough” made me. In days gone by, I idolized a strong body and I worked hard to have one. I felt proud of how many tractor tires I could flip and how far I could run with a teammate on my back. I trained my body through broken bones, pulled muscles, and failing joints. My definition of strength was a stiff upper lip and one more mile. And then, God threw His mantle over me — so to speak. 

Admittedly, I had to be stopped in my tracks before I stopped forcing my path. An injury slowed my pace, and though painful, gave me pause to reflect on the reasons I pressed myself so hard. During a time of grief, my spiritual director asked about the ways I coped with loss. I told him that when I woke up sad, I ate cookies for breakfast and then went for a long hard run. “So,” he said, “you’re literally filling the hole and running away from the pain.” He then began the process of teaching me to sit in it — to sit with the emotion that arises with the pain — to acknowledge the hole and allow my body to grieve it. This was the beginning of my journey toward redefining what it means to be “strong.” I was on the cusp of learning: a strong body is good, but not at the expense of my freedom. Freedom and strength can coexist, and they are found together in God.

Not long after this time, I received God’s call to ministry, and I resisted that call for what seems to have been a much longer stretch of time than Elisha’s request for delay. I resisted because I didn’t understand. I resisted because it seemed that what He expected from me was more than I could carry. I resisted because I lacked trust. I resisted because I didn’t yet know the difference it makes to be yoked to Jesus. Eventually, the gift of faith allowed me to say yes to His call, and though it has been a difficult road at times, it has only been that way because I have forgotten what it means to be under His mantle — yoked to His side. 

My strength has never carried me into freedom; only His strength can do that. My strength has never led me to healing; only His strength can do that. My strength has never held up or sustained a ministry; only His strength can do that. When I remember that the call was His to begin with, I can rest under the safety of His mantle and be at peace. 

I would now define strength as the ability to sit still when everything in me is telling me to move. I would define strength as having the courage to say yes to God without knowing or counting the cost. I would say I am growing stronger because I am no longer afraid of my emotions. I would say I’m growing stronger because I don’t define myself by what I can carry — rather, I define myself by the ways He has carried me.




Lori MacDonald

---