When God sends... a raven?

You can't cook and eat it. The law said so.

There are moments in the life of a prophetic person that feel more like survival than calling. Seasons where the fire of Mount Carmel feels like a distant echo and all that’s left is the dry, weary land of disappointment. The image here captures one such moment… in the wilderness, alone, dusty, worn. And yet, not abandoned. A raven stands before him, bread and meat in its beak, a strange provision from a faithful God. It’s a scene lifted straight from 1 Kings 17. But it’s more than a memory. It’s a mirror.

So, flick over to 1 Kings 17 on your phone. Elijah - not the man in the picture, the prophet of fire, had just delivered a hard word to King Ahab: no rain, not even dew, until he said so. It was a pronouncement that brought the weight of judgment, and with it, danger.

God did not leave him to face the fallout alone. Instead, He led Elijah eastward, away from the spotlight, to a brook called Cherith. “You shall drink from the brook, and I have commanded the ravens to feed you there” (1 Kings 17:4). That’s not a metaphor. God literally sent scavenger birds, ceremonially unclean by the standards of the law, to deliver meat and bread morning and evening. It was not logical, but it was divine.

It’s important to note that God didn’t send Elijah into the wilderness as punishment. He sent him there for preservation. The prophet was being hidden, yes, but he was also being fed. Cherith was not exile, neither was it ‘cherishing’. It was preparation. There, by the brook, the prophet who had spoken the word had to now learn to live by the word. To receive daily sustenance from the hand of God, even when it came in the beak of a raven.

It was, “Our Father, who is in Heaven…” stuff.

There’s a lesson here for every discouraged voice who once burned with vision but now sits in silence, wondering if the brook has dried up. Is this you? Maybe you’ve spoken hard truth and found yourself suddenly unwelcome. Even if this is just your own perception - not the truth. Maybe your obedience led not to acclaim, but obscurity. Here’s a small morsel of encouragement; the wilderness is not the end of the road. It’s where God shapes those He sends.

God’s provision doesn’t always come wrapped in glory. Sometimes it comes through ravens. Not what you expected. Sometimes it’s through a stranger’s kindness, an unexpected word of encouragement from someone at Church, or a verse that lands like fresh water on parched lips. His methods may unsettle us, but His faithfulness never fails. It’s always, ‘locked and loaded.’ Elijah, like you, wasn’t disqualified by his isolation. He was refined in it. And the same is true today - for you. The wilderness doesn’t cancel your calling. It clarifies it. It’s a bit like polishing a precious stone on a ring.

The gospel story echoes the same rhythm, pierces the darkness of discouragement, puts words, colour and picture into the cultural rap of every generation. It’s not about ‘something’, its about someone; Hero, champion of time and eternity who also withdrew Himself to desolate places to pray. He faced hunger, temptation, betrayal. Yet in every moment, the Father sustained Him. And now, through the Spirit, He sustains us. Not always with excess, but always with enough.

To the prophetic voices wherever you sit on Sunday, and whatever church gathering you with, who feel side-lined or forgotten, take heart. If God could command ravens to feed His servant, He can reach you where you are. He knows your GPS location. Your strength may be failing, but His mercies are new every morning. Your brook may dry up, but the Source does not, and even in the silence, you are being shaped for what comes next.

Elijah’s story didn’t end at the brook. After Cherith came Zarephath. After Zarephath came Carmel. And after Carmel, a still small voice in a cave that would call him back again.

Don’t despise the raven or the wilderness. God is still providing, and the God who fed Elijah in secret will empower you in public, in His time.