Our church has its share of widows and widowers. You might not realize it because some of them have remarried, and others are such vibrant servers of Jesus and College Church that widowhood gets forgotten. But a loss that deep is never forgotten—no matter how well adjusted to this new life or even a new spouse. Some of the people I most admire in our church are people in such a circumstance.

It’s not only our church, but the Bible itself that has a good number of people who have lost spouses. Think Ruth, Abigail, Tamar, the widow at Zarapheth, Anna, the widow who dropped all her coins in the offering box.

When my mother became a widow, she moved out of our house into an apartment that didn’t remind her of my dad. There were things ahead for my mom, but she felt she had to move out.

Think of the nameless widow of 2 Kings 4. Her husband, a prophet, died leaving her with two children and a mountain of debt she could not pay. She told Elisha. They talked. She explained to him that she had only one jar of oil in her home. So, Elisha gave her something to do. He said to her:

“Go outside, borrow vessels from all your neighbors, empty vessels and not too few. Then go in and shut the door behind yourself and your sons and pour into all these vessels. And when one is full, set it aside.” (vv. 3b-4)

This became a family project. She and her sons collecting empty jars from their community. What did the people think she was up to? Let’s go ahead and give her the empty jars. Some surely acted from pity. That crazy old widow. Just give her the jars. The debt collectors will soon be at her door, so let’s give her what she wants and be done with it.

And the widow? She was doing what Elisha had instructed her to do. And when she and her boys had exhausted all their neighborhood resources and gathered them all, they closed the doors of their home and got to work.

It was then that the oil flowed. I imagine a little assembly line—a son brings an empty jar, she fills it, he or his brother brings another empty jar, she fills it, he brings another. Until every last jar was filled. Somehow, she filled every one of the jars with oil, but it wasn’t her. It was God.

What next?

“Go, sell the oil and pay your debts, and you and your sons can live on the rest,” Elisha directed her.

God saw her, and he sees each one of us. We think our jars are full, but really without him, they are empty and dry, and we don’t have enough of them to do any good anyway. Or maybe because of circumstances, we see emptiness. Sometimes, even with him, our jars can be empty. Losing someone opens our eyes to the emptiness we sometimes face.

Only God fills emptiness with oil or water with wine or a lunch multiplied to feed thousands. I think of all the friends who live with great loss. I stand with them. I see God’s hand caring for and sustaining them and using me and others in the church to stand with them.

James reminds us that "religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world." (James 1:27) And then this comes across my desk from Voice of the Martyrs about a Christian woman in Laos.

Widowed Christian Threatened with Loss of Home
La and her husband became Christians while seeking a cure for his illness. Though he died three months later, they remained faithful due to the love and care they received from their brothers and sisters in Christ. In 2020, her daughter married a nonbeliever, and her son-in-law moved into her house. He practices animism, making offerings to spirits and trying to force his mother-in-law to do the same. He threw away La’s Bible and tries to keep her from practicing her Christian faith. In June, La’s son-in-law and daughter told her they would kick her out of the house if she continued to follow Christ. La continues to listen to Christian radio and receives encouragement from the church.

She asks for prayer for her current situation. “No matter what will happen to me . . .I will not leave God. I have hope that one day I could meet my husband again in the kingdom of God, and I will meet my God, too.”

Let our prayers be the empty jars we give to our sister La. Every day with Jesus is a miracle. She knows that and will not turn away. May our faith be like hers. Comfort comes from the God of all comfort. Rescue or not. We are the family of La.

Search for all the empty jars, all that you can gather and find. And then, you, Lord, fill them with stone-pressed oil that we might live and know. Fill the jars with water so fine, you will turn it into the finest wine.

Sing the triumph of the empty jars
borrowed from neighbors next door.
Filled to the top with precious oil
to feed, to soothe and calm,
oil fashioned into anointing balm,
oil to cook, some to infuse,
somehow there is no dross.
We marvel at this heavenly sauce;
we marvel at your created cross,
sweet mingling of love and loss.
From your shadow we will not hide,
ever always you do not forget;
you always see,
always provide,
always cover every debt.