You move before the oil does.
Most people, usually me, don’t like asking for help. We’d rather struggle in silence than admit we’re struggling or stuck. God, in His great wisdom and mercy, sometimes lets us get to that position just to teach us how to ask for His help.
There’s a widow in 2 Kings 4 with a story to tell. Her husband’s dearly departed, the creditors are circling like vultures and she’s got nothing left except a small jar of oil. Elisha steps into the story and tells her to go outside and borrow vessels from her neighbours. Not a few. He tells her to get as many as she can. The word he uses is shaʾal, the old Hebrew for ‘borrow’, but it means more than just taking something on loan. It means to ask. To reach beyond yourself. To admit you don’t have enough, and someone else might.
This isn’t the first time shaʾal shows up in the story of God’s people. Back in Egypt, God told the Israelites to shaʾal silver and gold from their neighbours before they left. Not steal, not demand – ask. And the Egyptians gave it. That moment wasn’t about jewellery. It was about trust. Trust that when God says, ask, He’s already gone ahead to provide.
We see shaʾal again in the Psalms where David is crying out, asking for deliverance, for direction, for mercy. Asking wasn’t weakness. It was worship. It was how covenant people related to a covenant-keeping God who promised to keep, protect and provide for them. He’s not a vending machine. He’s a Father and doesn’t shame His children for asking. He welcomes it. It honours Him.
Now flick through your bible app to Matthew 7. Jesus is preaching, cutting through the mundane and gets right down to the nitty-gritty and says, “ask and it will be given to you. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened.” There it is again – ask. In Greek now, but the heart of it hasn’t changed. Still the same God, same posture. Empty hands, open heart, full of trust.
We live in a world that tells you to be self-made. Get it done yourself. Don’t owe anyone anything. But the gospel doesn’t run on independence. It runs on grace. And grace begins where self-sufficiency ends. The widow had to go out and knock on doors. That took humility. Vulnerability. Faith. She didn’t know how God would move. She just knew she needed to ask.
The miracle didn’t happen when she prayed. It happened when she poured. One jar after another, oil kept flowing. Not because she had enough faith. Not because she borrowed the right pots. But because she asked – and God answered.
Jesus never mocks the empty. He fills them. That’s the whole message of the cross. We brought nothing but sin and need. He gave everything – mercy, righteousness, sonship. So now, in Him, we ask without fear. Not as beggars hoping for the little scraps, bits and pieces, but as children secure in the love of the Father.
So if you’re running low or on empty whether it be for hope, strength, peace or wisdom – don’t hide it. Ask. Borrow a little courage from a brother. Lean on the faith of a friend. Go to your Father.
You’re not too far gone, and you’re not asking too much. He’s not just able. He’s willing.
Ask. Borrow. Receive. Grace still flows.