When The Fire Fails And The Whisper Comes

“There are only two ways to live your life,” Albert Einstein once said. “One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is.” We live in an age where many live as though they themselves are the miracle.

Ours is a world of self-promotion. Instagram. TikTok. A culture of influencers, curated lifestyles, and the ever-growing temptation to think: “It’s all about me.” Even in faith communities, we can fall into the trap of confusing devotion with performance and calling with self-importance.

If you search for “the top 10 most egotistical people on the planet,” the same crew shows up time and again: influencers, divas and hipsters. We’re not going to name names, as that could be hurtful, but it’s likely that we’d agree with the consensus. We may not like it, but we live in an influencer culture of lifestyle exaggeration. Social media platforms showcase braggarts portraying excessively glamorous lifestyles and shallow self-promotion — all of which is curated to foster envy and FOMO (fear of missing out). And this is the point, after all.

We all deal with people daily who think “it’s all about me.” It’s a cross we must bear. We have an innate dislike for these people. We instinctively recoil from narcissistic behavior.

The one quest that is consistently more important than any other is to discover meaning, to find out why we are here, taking up space on this planet. And this quest inevitably and inexorably leads to God.

This is key: In this discovery, we find meaning, happiness and fulfillment in life. This principle is a sort of biblical Theory of Everything.  

This brings us to Elijah—arguably the greatest prophet in ancient Israel—who has just called down fire from heaven, triumphed over 450 prophets of Baal, and broken a three-year drought. A true mountaintop moment.

And yet, the next scene finds him under a broom tree, asking God to end his life.

Why? Because ego and exhaustion are a dangerous combination.

I. Elijah’s Ego: “I Alone Am Left”

King Ahab runs to Queen Jezebel and says, “Let me tell you what Elijah has done.”?Notice: not what God has done, but Elijah. Perhaps Elijah heard this and began to believe it.

Maybe we’ve done the same:

We lead a successful ministry or make a meaningful impact, and pride begins to grow unnoticed.

We assume responsibility for outcomes that are beyond our control and ultimately belong to God.

And when things don’t turn out the way we expected—when Jezebel’s threats replace applause—we spiral. That’s Elijah. His ego, inflated by success, now crumbles under threat.

He says: “I have been very zealous … and I alone am left.”?It sounds spiritual, but it is self-centered. Elijah believes God’s whole plan is at risk because he is in danger.

Friends, whenever we say, “It all depends on me,” we are likely serving ego, not God.

II. Culture Check: We Live in an “All About Me” World

We recoil from narcissism in others, but we all wrestle with the urge to make ourselves the center of the story. It’s not just Elijah. It’s the human condition.

Social media platforms are built to reward attention. Success becomes spectacle. Even spirituality is sometimes commodified—followers, posts, videos. We can do good things for the wrong reasons.

But God doesn’t measure faithfulness by visibility. God looks for relationships.

We see this from Genesis to Revelation—God walking in the garden, calling Adam and Eve; Jesus saying again and again, “Let those who have ears, hear”; and Revelation’s image of Christ knocking, whispering at the door, inviting us to dine.

III. Exhaustion and Ego Are Soul Killers

Elijah says, “Take my life. I’m no better than my ancestors.”?He lies under a tree and sleeps.

God does not rebuke him.?God sends an angel to touch him and say, “Get up and eat.”?Bread. Water. Rest. And more rest.

Before Elijah can hear the whisper of God, he needs to stop striving and start receiving.

Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do is sleep and eat.

IV. The Whisper: How God Reorients Us

After forty days and nights, Elijah reaches Mount Horeb. And there, the divine encounter unfolds:

A windstorm tears through the mountains—but God is not in the wind.

An earthquake shakes the ground—but God is not in the quake.

A fire follows—but God is not in the fire.

Finally, there comes a sound of sheer silence. A whisper.

And Elijah covers his face. He knows: this is the presence of God.

Sometimes, we expect God in spectacle. We look for signs and wonders. But God often speaks most profoundly in silence. Not because God is absent—but because He is near.

Illustration: The Teacher Who Whispered

A teacher once stood before her noisy class and began to whisper. The room didn’t notice at first. But slowly, one by one, the students grew quiet. Their curiosity overcame their noise.