Even prophets, it seems, wrestle with that feeling.
Let's turn to Midrash Tehillim, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Psalms, to explore a fascinating little story about the prophet Elijah. It all starts with the verse, "And the truth of the Lord endures forever." But what does that truth look like in practice?
The story goes that God commands Elijah to appear before Ahab, the king of Israel. You might remember Ahab; he wasn't exactly known for his piety. In fact, he was pretty deeply entrenched in idol worship. As we read in 1 Kings 18, God tells Elijah to "Go, show yourself to Ahab."
Now, put yourself in Elijah's sandals for a moment. He basically says to God, "How can I go? The guy hasn't repented at all!" It's a fair question, right? Why bother confronting someone who seems so set in their ways?
And here's where it gets interesting. God's response is… unexpected. God says, "When I watered My world, there was one patch of land that did not receive any rain." This is a reference to Genesis 2:6, which describes a mist rising from the earth to water the ground.
Wait, what? What does that have to do with Ahab?
The connection, according to the midrash, is this: Even when God provides for the entire world, there are always places, people, situations that seem untouched by that blessing. Places that remain stubbornly dry. But God isn’t giving up on those dry patches.
God continues to Elijah, "Even now, go and show yourself to Ahab, and I will give rain." The implication is clear: Your action, Elijah, your willingness to engage, is the catalyst. Even if Ahab seems completely resistant, your presence is necessary for the potential for change to even exist. It's as if God is saying, "Trust me. Just go. I'll handle the rain."
Think about that for a moment. There’s a profound lesson tucked away in this short anecdote. It's not about guaranteed success. It's not even about Ahab's repentance, at least not directly. It's about our role in bringing the possibility of blessing, of renewal, into seemingly hopeless situations.
Sometimes, all we can do is show up. Plant the seed. Be present. Be the mist. The rain? Well, that's up to something bigger than ourselves. But we have to be willing to go, even when it feels like a futile task. Because who knows? Maybe, just maybe, our presence is the key to unlocking a downpour.