A Poem for the Impossible Journey

Posted on June 03, 2014 by Katherine Ruch


elija-and-the-angel.jpg


When God calls us to a difficult journey, we sometimes despair that we cannot make it. God, of course, knows that.

He has already made provision for us to do the impossible.

Such is the case with a story I have always loved-- the story of Elijah after he has had a spiritual victory over the prophets of Baal, has seen the miracle of fire from heaven, and the miracle of rain after a three year drought. He is afraid and in despair and falls asleep.  


Two times an angel visits him, touches him, saying, "Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you," provides him with a cake on hot stones and a jar of water, and then lets him sleep again. Elijah was able to go forty days and forty nights in the strength of that food until he arrived at the mount of God. (Often in Scripture the mountain is the place of miraculous provision).  

I wrote this poem for my husband when he became a bishop, as I knew it would require supernatural provision. Now I submit it to all of you who are on a journey that requires food from heaven just for you to make it one more day. May you know that God is giving himself to you. Go to the mountain of the Lord, for "on the mountain of the Lord, it will be provided."

Arise and Eat


Arise and eat
for the journey is too great for you.
You are only made of atoms
and mountains will have to move.
Water will need to come from stone,
and you will have to live on more than bread.


Arise and eat
for the journey is too great for you.
I have food you know nothing of.
This food is mine prepared for you
by angels at the hearth of heaven.
This, my hand, will feed you.


Arise and eat
for the journey is too great for you.
Your prayers cry out for ancient fire,
but it is living and will singe your skin.
This is my hand, made pure by fire,
and I baptize you with it.


Arise and eat
for the journey is too great for you.
Those who have not bowed to Baal
must be gathered for the approaching reign.
This, my hand, that gathers oceans
in a water-skin will discharge the waters.


Arise and go.
Lift your robes and run.
Do not fear the evil charging at your back.
I will meet you on the mountain of miracles
where all will be afforded.
This, my right hand, is yours.


--Katherine Ruch