Who are you in Zarephath?
The widow?
Her son?
The prophet?
One of the many
nameless
worshipers of Ba’al?

I often feel like the widow
preparing to eat
the last of my meal
and die.

Yet unexpectedly
the voice of The Lord
comes
in the form
of a stranger
asking for food
and promising
there will be
enough.

I think of the times
I’ve come close
to losing
that which I’ve loved most
on this earth
only to have
the stranger,
the prophet
intercede.

Who are you at Zarephath?
Can we accept
the endless oil and meal
and become
the voice of the Lord
the prophet
to someone else?