When you're back to Job, again
Every June I find myself back there.
Back in Job.
And the memories come flooding back. When God broke my heart He spoke directly to me through Job’s words, used them to crush me before the real crushing ever took place. It was the most clearly-prophetic and profoundly God’s ever spoken personally through His Word. So every time I open to his place I smile and remember, like looking down at scars, tenderly fingering their once-wounds and remembering when they were fresh, how much they hurt, how I thought they’d never heal. But they have and I smile, shake my head at the reality that I have Jeff Patterson’s son sitting on my lap as I read. Had I known back then…
But at the time we never know.
All we know is pain. All we see are wounds, open. We reel, thrash, grope in the darkness. And in the darkness, Job whispers these words and we make them ours:
“The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” (Job 1:21)
This is all we know. No rhyme or reason or explanation. No moral of the story or redemptive purpose. We know He has given, we know He has taken away:
And we bless His name by faith. And then we hear:
“Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive adversity?” (Job 2:10)
Yes, I suppose. Will we exalt ourselves over our Creator, deciding what is doled out? We embrace this.
And it is still dark. But we have heard His voice and we respond:
“For the thing that I fear comes upon me, and what I dread befalls me. I am not at ease, nor am I quiet; I have no rest, but trouble comes.” (Job 3:25-26)
We are honest in the darkness. No, this is not a place of warmth and comfort. Not a place of rest and peace. It is a place of reeling, thrashing, groping. But quiet resolve comes, we hear ourself say,
“Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him.” (Job 13:15)
And by barely perceptible measure, there comes a hint of peace. Of trust. Of resolve. Strength rises slow and we are gripped, moved,
“For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will stand upon the earth. And though my flesh may be destroyed, yet with my eyes I will see God.” (19:25-26)
Without knowing it, we have somehow stood. Where there was fear, there is faith. It is still dark, but could there be a glimmer of Light far off in the distance?
We tremble now not because of darkness. But because of the Light.
He has come. He speaks,
“Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” (Job. 38:2) Who is this that speaks of what he does not know?
We were fetal ball, writhing, then slowly stood, believing …
Now we bow, submitting.
And speak our worship,
“I had heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you.” (Job. 42:5)
He has come, darkness gone. We had heard His whisper in the darkness, butnow we see Him in the light. Reeling, writhing, groping gone. Now in the light we see our wounds; they are but scars.
Some flesh, it is true, is destroyed, but with our eyes we have seen God.
So we go back to Job. We revisit. We return not glibly, but gladly, because we know the reward:
God.