Ain’t That A VHIT
By Von C. Howard
There is a story in 2 Kings 4:1–7 that feels especially close to home in this season. I was reminded of it through a sermon by Rev. Dr. Libya BaaQar titled “Just Keep Pouring.” It tells of a widow who had reached the edge of what she could manage. Her husband had died. Bills were due. Creditors were coming. Her sons were at risk because she could not pay what she owed.
When the prophet Elisha asked what she had left, her answer was painfully honest: “Nothing… except a small jar of oil.”
That response echoes across generations and it resonates deeply in the lived experience of many in the Black community. There have been times when resources were limited, doors were closed, opportunities were delayed, and yet life still demanded strength, provision, and perseverance. We all know seasons of “nothing… except.”
Except a little faith passed down from elders.
Except resilience learned through hardship.
Except community that shows up when systems fall short.
Except talent and determination that refuses to die.
In the story, Elisha tells her to borrow empty jars from neighbors, not just a few, and begin pouring her small amount of oil into them. The oil keeps flowing until every jar is full. It only stops when there are no more containers. The supply did not run out. The space did.
That truth carries weight today. Historically and presently, the Black community has often been told there is not enough, not enough funding, access, representation, or opportunity. Yet time and again, we have witnessed multiplication from what seemed minimal: businesses started at kitchen tables, movements born in living rooms and churches, education pursued against odds, families sustained through collective effort.
It reminds me of the familiar encouragement in the song: “I won’t complain.” Those words reflect a quiet resolve, not ignoring struggle, but refusing to surrender to it.
The oil has never been an issue. Capacity and access have. The widow had to ask neighbors for jars while she was already struggling. That took humility and connection. Our story reflects the same principle. Progress has often come through shared support, extended family, church networks, mentors, historically Black institutions, and community collaboration. Those are jars.
There was also sacrifice. She gathered containers before she saw increase. Likewise, advancement has often required preparation before proof, studying without guarantee, organizing without funding, saving without surplus, building without recognition. And when the oil multiplied, she poured carefully. That is sustainability, protecting growth so it lasts for the next generation.
Rev. Dr. BaaQar’s message speaks clearly: don’t quit while you’re still gathering jars. Just keep pouring.
Because what looks small can still multiply when room is prepared for it. So, keep learning. Keep building. Keep supporting one another. Keep preparing space for growth and legacy. Just keep pouring.
Because sometimes the problem is not that we do not have enough. Sometimes… more jars are needed.
