The Shunamites Among Us

The stories of three Shunamite women are recorded in the Bible.

The first was Abishag, a beautiful young woman chosen to keep King David warm and alive in his old age. Unfortunately, it was too little, too late; despite these desperate measures he died soon after the marriage. To honor the wishes of both God and King David as to who his successor would be, Abishag was destined to live the rest of her life . . . alone. To marry anyone else would be to confer upon them political clout that would upend God's designated successor. So her lovely bloom of youth was sacrificed on the altar of duty, and, we can assume, gladly so, so great was the honor of having been King David's wife.

The second Shunamite's story is more well known, that of the rich woman who honored the prophet of God, Elisha, by providing him with a little room for his traveling needs. The prophet prayed for her to have a child, for she was barren, and God honored that prayer. Later, when the child died, the Shunamite, a worthy woman strong in the Lord, went with single mindedness of purpose to the prophet to demand of him intercession on behalf of her son. God restored her son.

And of course, there is the Shunamite of the Song of Solomon. The woman whose visage is darkened by the sun--she has worked for the Lord in the heat of the day--and is yet a woman who seeks Him and loves Him with her whole heart.

When we read of Shunamites we read of sacrifice, strength, duty, and whole-mindedness towards God. Ah . . . but these admirable women are not confined to the pages of the Bible. If we look around us, we will find that there are Shunamites who walk among us, even today.

My second mother-in-law, Grandma Robbie, was blessed with six children. During her lifetime, she lost three. There can be no greater pain than seeing your child die, yet she lost half her babes--and kept on loving, serving God, one day at a time. Dennis asked her once how she was able to do so. "You just do what you have to do," she answered. "You keep on living because you have to . . . " Shunamite of indomitable strength.

Then there is my dear friend who lost her son during the heyday of Covid 19. She shared her broken heart on social media, and, with immeasurable grace, the ways in which God upheld her and strengthened her. Her sacrificial transparency blessed the readers with an intimate look at how one can live through and overcome a tragedy of the greatest proportions. She, this courageous woman who found strength in Him who loved us, did not let this crushing loss snuff out her faith in God. Shunamite of unbending staunchness towards God.

And most recently . . . Aunt Ethyl. I never thought to meet Aunt Ethyl, one of Dennis's favorite aunts. Over the years I had heard wonderful words of praise from him about her, as well as great admiration. Returning to school after her children were grown, she got her RN degree and was working as such till the age of 92! This amazing woman was also the mother of the cousin to whom Dennis felt the greatest closeness, Mike.

When we moved to Tennessee, I had pie in the sky dreams of trips to Arkansas to hobnob with Mike. I had met him but a handful of times and treasured every moment--he was one of those people with whom one feels an instant kinship, his ways were so easy and gracious. But it was not to be. The last two years had unfurled a litany of ailments in Mike's body and he was not up to snuff, not up to visitors. Then, to top the saga of sadness off, Mike died.

I do wish I had met Aunt Ethyl under better circumstances, yet . . . I am all the better for having met her at her son's funeral. I have been at many funerals over the years, most those of Christians who have hope of being reunited with loved ones, but I have witnessed at least once the unmitigated despair in the wailings of a daughter who did not know the Lord and had no hope of seeing her father again. But never had I seen or imagined what I witnessed in Aunt Ethyl that sad day.

What happened was this. As Aunt Ethyl was wheeled up to Mike's mortal remains during the viewing , she let her spirit rip--she burst out in a heavenly language, in such a rousing manner that it infused us, the hearers, with strength. I don't know if what she said next was an interpretation of that language or a prayer, but she said, "You were a good son . . ." and gave a loving memorial of all Mike had been.

The scene was repeated at least twice more. During one of those times she said, "We should be crying for ourselves, because Mike is up there with Jesus, dancing in Heaven, and we are here, left behind!"

My words do not give the scene justice. All I can say is that instead of being devastated--and from a human viewpoint we would say that it would be only rightly so--, Aunt Ethyl ministered strength and encouragement to all those around her. And this was her son! She was one of the closest family members to him there, one with her heart ripped apart. But strength and affirmation of faith came from her mouth. Shunamite of single mindedness towards God.

I long to be a Shunamite.

In Matthew 26, there was a woman who washed Jesus's feet with her tears. He said of her, "Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told for a memorial of her." May we live lives that magnify the Lord through our deeds, Shunamite lives, overcoming lives of strength and service, that show our unfailing love for our Lord, and are worthy memorials to Him.

"We love him, because he first loved us." ( I John 4:19)

"For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." (Romans 8:18)