As we continue our journey through 2 Kings, the big question we keep thinking about is this:
How will you persist when life does not cooperate?
Because we know that life comes at us. Not theoretically. Not eventually. But actually, today. Life is here, with exhaustion, conflict, bills, grief, parenting, loneliness, fear, disappointment, waiting, scarcity, unexpected loss. And when life comes, how will you persist? Will you persist in trust? Cynicism? Prayer? Self-protection? Faithfulness? Isolation? Hope? Control?
In 2 Kings, we’ve been seeing persistence in different forms. In chapter 1, we saw a king persist in turning toward false gods. In chapter 2, we saw Elisha persist in staying close to Elijah, refusing to leave his side because he wanted to be formed, discipled, prepared. In chapter 3, we saw kings persisting in building their kingdom and their power—making political decisions, military alliances, and tactical choices, and only turning to God once everything fell apart.
And now in chapter 4, something shifts dramatically. The focus moves away from kings, wars, politics, alliances, and power struggles. Instead, it moves toward widows, mothers, hungry people, rural communities, and vulnerable households. This teaches us more about who God is, how He loves, and how He cares for the community.
Before we jump into the text, let’s pause and think through some things. The stories we’re about to read can feel awkward and even clunky. They seem like just random stories of Elisha going around the community doing Elisha things. There’s a widow, a sick kid, poison soup, and loaves of bread. We see failure, mistakes, and odd instructions. But what do any of these stories have to do with each other? What are we to process as we work through them?
We’re going to start with two questions. First, in life’s randomness—in the getting ready and the coming and the going, in working and relating and being alone—in all types of moments, life persists in being random. And in that randomness, what are some things you seem to notice that others don’t? We all have experiences and perspectives and passions and values that impact what we notice.
What are some things you seem to notice that others don’t in life’s randomness?
Now let’s think about what God notices, what God is paying attention to. God also has experiences and perspectives and passions and values, and all these things—and so much more—impact what God is paying attention to. This is certainly beyond our understanding, but let’s try anyway. What do we think God is paying attention to? What might be things we miss but God notices? What are things we are worried about that maybe God isn’t as worried about?
What might be things we miss, but God notices?
I love the story in Mark 1 where Jesus heals a man with leprosy. The Bible’s word “leprosy” covered several serious skin diseases. In the ancient Jewish world, visible skin disease carried not just medical fear, but ceremonial and social consequences.
In Leviticus 13–14, a person diagnosed with leprosy was considered “unclean.” That affected nearly every part of life. It meant isolation from people—separation from family and friends and work and culture. It meant constant public shame, since they were expected to call out “Unclean! Unclean!” (Leviticus 13:45) It meant fear, hopelessness, and pain, as well as eventual disfigurement and nerve damage. Having leprosy also meant spiritual exclusion, as an “unclean” person could not come into the temple or have access to spiritual leaders. And it also meant facing negative social assumptions, as people often believed that the illness was a divine punishment for past failures.
The book of Mark, in the first chapter, introduces Jesus and emphasizes His character. The text describes His baptism, where God declares that this is His Son, with whom He is well pleased. Then it covers His temptation in the wilderness, His teaching, and the calling of His disciples. After this, still in chapter 1, it describes Jesus caring for people that others would easily miss or dismiss, people that others would ignore or not want to see—the demon-possessed, and a man with leprosy. Here’s that last one:
And a leper came to Jesus, beseeching Him and falling on his knees before Him, and saying, “If You are willing, You can make me clean.” Moved with compassion, Jesus stretched out His hand and touched him, and *said to him, “I am willing; be cleansed.” (Mark 1:40-41)
This story could have been so radically different if just one thing had changed—if Jesus had done what the man had surely experienced over and over again in his illness—if Jesus would have ignored him or looked through him or turned away from him. But that’s not what happened. Jesus saw him. Jesus was moved with compassion. Jesus interacted, and He healed him.
It can be easy to be self-absorbed or distracted or busy or focused on the task at hand or uninterested or uncaring. But Jesus stopped and saw. Mark 1 puts this character trait of Jesus right up front and center in the narrative.
In 2 Kings, a similar pattern stands out. While kingdoms obsess over power, God keeps paying attention to people. While kings are fighting over territory, God is helping a widow keep her children. While nations are worried about military survival, God is feeding hungry communities.
The movement of the chapter is intentional. The author wants us to see, this is what God is like. How will God persist? He sees us. No matter how insignificant we are, or our need is, or how the world perceives it all (or doesn’t), God persists in His love for us.
And now what about us? How are we to persist in the presence of God’s persistence?
So as we turn the page to 2 Kings 4, there are four moments waiting for us. Let’s feel God’s persistence to see what some may think is insignificant (or may miss altogether), and let’s notice the people’s small but notable persistence as well.
THE WIDOW (2 Kings 4:1–7)
The first story is about a widow. Her husband was connected to the prophetic community, but when he died, she faced real economic collapse and the probability that creditors would take her sons as slaves to pay his debts. And she turns to Elisha.
The wife of a man from the company of the prophets cried out to Elisha, “Your servant my husband is dead, and you know that he revered the Lord. But now his creditor is coming to take my two boys as his slaves.”
Elisha replied to her, “How can I help you? Tell me, what do you have in your house?”
“Your servant has nothing there at all,” she said, “except a small jar of olive oil.”
Elisha said, “Go around and ask all your neighbors for empty jars. Don’t ask for just a few. Then go inside and shut the door behind you and your sons. Pour oil into all the jars, and as each is filled, put it to one side.”
She left him and shut the door behind her and her sons. They brought the jars to her and she kept pouring. When all the jars were full, she said to her son, “Bring me another one.”
But he replied, “There is not a jar left.” Then the oil stopped flowing.
She went and told the man of God, and he said, “Go, sell the oil and pay your debts. You and your sons can live on what is left.” (2 Kings 4:1-7)
The woman was maybe a person of little significance. She was certainly in a painful and unfair moment. And she was miraculously seen and helped as her efforts and the miraculous of God came together.
THE SHUNAMMITE WOMAN (2 Kings 4:8–37)
In the second story, we meet a woman from Shunem. She had wealth and respect, but she still had a need—one that lingered in her life, and one that everyone was aware of.
This woman recognizes something holy in Elisha, and she persists in hospitality. She creates space for him. Builds a room for him on her rooftop. Welcomes him repeatedly.
One day Elisha went to Shunem. And a well-to-do woman was there, who urged him to stay for a meal. So whenever he came by, he stopped there to eat. She said to her husband, “I know that this man who often comes our way is a holy man of God. Let’s make a small room on the roof and put in it a bed and a table, a chair and a lamp for him. Then he can stay there whenever he comes to us.”
One day when Elisha came, he went up to his room and lay down there. He said to his servant Gehazi, “Call the Shunammite.” So he called her, and she stood before him. Elisha said to him, “Tell her, ‘You have gone to all this trouble for us. Now what can be done for you? Can we speak on your behalf to the king or the commander of the army?’”
She replied, “I have a home among my own people.”
“What can be done for her?” Elisha asked.
Gehazi said, “She has no son, and her husband is old.”
Then Elisha said, “Call her.” So he called her, and she stood in the doorway. “About this time next year,” Elisha said, “you will hold a son in your arms.”
“No, my lord!” she objected. “Please, man of God, don’t mislead your servant!”
But the woman became pregnant, and the next year about that same time she gave birth to a son, just as Elisha had told her.
The child grew, and one day he went out to his father, who was with the reapers. He said to his father, “My head! My head!”
His father told a servant, “Carry him to his mother.” After the servant had lifted him up and carried him to his mother, the boy sat on her lap until noon, and then he died. She went up and laid him on the bed of the man of God, then shut the door and went out.
She called her husband and said, “Please send me one of the servants and a donkey so I can go to the man of God quickly and return.”
“Why go to him today?” he asked. “It’s not the New Moon or the Sabbath.”
“That’s all right,” she said.
She saddled the donkey and said to her servant, “Lead on; don’t slow down for me unless I tell you.” So she set out and came to the man of God at Mount Carmel.
When he saw her in the distance, the man of God said to his servant Gehazi, “Look! There’s the Shunammite! Run to meet her and ask her, ‘Are you all right? Is your husband all right? Is your child all right?’”
“Everything is all right,” she said.
When she reached the man of God at the mountain, she took hold of his feet. Gehazi came over to push her away, but the man of God said, “Leave her alone! She is in bitter distress, but the Lord has hidden it from me and has not told me why.”
“Did I ask you for a son, my lord?” she said. “Didn’t I tell you, ‘Don’t raise my hopes’?”
Elisha said to Gehazi, “Tuck your cloak into your belt, take my staff in your hand and run. Don’t greet anyone you meet, and if anyone greets you, do not answer. Lay my staff on the boy’s face.”
But the child’s mother said, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So he got up and followed her.
Gehazi went on ahead and laid the staff on the boy’s face, but there was no sound or response. So Gehazi went back to meet Elisha and told him, “The boy has not awakened.”
When Elisha reached the house, there was the boy lying dead on his couch. He went in, shut the door on the two of them and prayed to the Lord. Then he got on the bed and lay on the boy, mouth to mouth, eyes to eyes, hands to hands. As he stretched himself out on him, the boy’s body grew warm. Elisha turned away and walked back and forth in the room and then got on the bed and stretched out on him once more. The boy sneezed seven times and opened his eyes.
Elisha summoned Gehazi and said, “Call the Shunammite.” And he did. When she came, he said, “Take your son.” She came in, fell at his feet and bowed to the ground. Then she took her son and went out. (2 Kings 4:8-37)
This woman had everything but a son. She was given a son, but then he died—a moment that could have been excused or dismissed as a penalty from God. But her request was heard and seen and helped as her efforts and the miraculous of God came together, and her son was restored to life.
THE FINAL TWO STORIES (2 Kings 4:38-43)
The chapter closes with two smaller miracles that impact the larger community.
Elisha returned to Gilgal and there was a famine in that region. While the company of the prophets was meeting with him, he said to his servant, “Put on the large pot and cook some stew for these prophets.”
One of them went out into the fields to gather herbs and found a wild vine and picked as many of its gourds as his garment could hold. When he returned, he cut them up into the pot of stew, though no one knew what they were. The stew was poured out for the men, but as they began to eat it, they cried out, “Man of God, there is death in the pot!” And they could not eat it.
Elisha said, “Get some flour.” He put it into the pot and said, “Serve it to the people to eat.” And there was nothing harmful in the pot. (2 Kings 4:38-41)
A man came from Baal Shalishah, bringing the man of God twenty loaves of barley bread baked from the first ripe grain, along with some heads of new grain. “Give it to the people to eat,” Elisha said.
“How can I set this before a hundred men?” his servant asked.
But Elisha answered, “Give it to the people to eat. For this is what the Lord says: ‘They will eat and have some left over.’” Then he set it before them, and they ate and had some left over, according to the word of the Lord. (2 Kings 4:42-44)
A poisoned stew becomes safe. And twenty dinner rolls were able to feed a hundred men—with leftovers. The people were miraculously seen and helped as their efforts and the miraculous of God came together.
All four stories together show a pattern: God’s interaction with life’s chaos. Life is full of moments of need, loss, accidents, shortfalls. These moments tend to sneak up on us, but they are also predictable because they happen to us all. But the theme is that God interacted with these moments, and death becomes life, scarcity becomes abundance, fear becomes provision, and chaos becomes restoration.
But that is not the only pattern. There’s also this: God interacted while the people were actively engaged. The widow had to borrow the bottles. The mom had to seek the prophet and persist. The stew and the bread had to be made. The people were actively engaged. And God was not distant from their ordinary suffering.God is moving toward it.
What does it tell us about God that He engages with ordinary suffering?
Why does persistence matter in these stories?
Today we have covered quite a bit of ground. We talked about things we notice that others maybe miss, and things God must notice that we may miss. We looked at the story of Jesus noticing the man with leprosy in Mark 1. And then we looked at 2 Kings 4 and saw four stories of ordinary people that God notices, and we saw God meeting needs in combination with the people’s efforts.
First and Second Kings have detailed many epic moments for us, featuring kings and prophets and nations and war and the temple. There have been successes and failures on an epic scale. And now in 2 Kings 4, there is a reminder that God notices all.
Through story after story of ordinary people living inside ordinary chaos—debt, grief, fear, hunger, loss, lack, unexpected suffering. And what is striking about 2 Kings 4 is not just that miracles happened, but who God keeps moving toward, who God keeps noticing. Not kings. Not powerful people. Not impressive people. But widows, mothers, hungry communities, people on the edge of survival. While kingdoms obsess over power, God keeps paying attention to ordinary people.
And as He notices them, He doesn’t push people aside and just do things Himself. Instead, God invites their—our—involvement.
I bring us these words from Paul as we wrap up:
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)
In my weakness, my insignificance, my struggle, my shortcoming, my resistance, and my difficulties, God notices. And His grace is sufficient. His power is made perfect in my weakness.
Something else keeps repeating in these stories: the people persist toward God. The widow keeps pouring. The Shunammite woman keeps seeking. The servants keep serving. The people keep bringing what little they have. The miracle is not passive. There is participation. There is movement. There is trust before certainty. And also:
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)
Nothing can separate me from the love of God. Nothing.
So I bring this to you to process as we close: Will I continue turning toward the God who brings life into places that feel empty? Will I persist toward Him?
If God notices the things happening in our lives, how does it impact how you relate with Him and others?
If God doesn’t notice the things happening in our lives, how does it impact how you relate with Him and others?
Take It Deeper Questions
Read 2 Kings 4:1-7.
What are some different responses that people have when life is tragic?
What nudges someone to trust God when life is difficult?
Why does the Bible so often show people taking steps of faith or obedience before experiencing God’s miraculous help?
What step of faith or obedience might God be asking you to take as part of receiving His provision or help?
How are you challenged, focused, encouraged, and/or confused by this text?
Bible Reading Plan
Exodus 16 • Bread in the Wilderness
Mark 6 • Five Loaves and Two Fish
Philippians 4 • God Will Provide
James 2 • Faith That Moves
Hebrews 11 • Faith in Action
2 Kings 5 • God Heals an Outsider