I'M SURPRISED and right on the border of shocked and delighted with what is happening in the Bible book of Job, which I am paraphrasing these days.
Job had a mouth, an attitude, and plenty of reason to complain. God gave the okay for some mysterious spirit being to send a windstorm that crushed to death all Job's children and grandchildren in a collapsing house. Raiders and fire took all of his herds and all but a few of his servants.
Job’s mouthy talk with God
We think of Job as patiently enduring this. He patiently endured nothing of this. He argued God all the way through the book.
I'm guessing my excitement about what I'm reading and paraphrasing is because Job feels a lot like I feel.
In fact a friend wrote me this morning, telling me that very thing.
Old enough to have lost a lot
I've gotten old enough in life to have lost a lot. And I'm still losing. A few feet away from me is my little six-year-old black lab Maizey, dying of lymphoma. She breaks my heart.
This is Mother's Day. And I'm hoping to be able to say hello to my mother, though she won't be able to see me or remember who I am. Strokes took her eyesight. And I don't know what took her mind in this wretched disease of dementia.
I'm gonna let you read a little bit of the way Job talks to God, because it is compelling and I think it's enjoyable and entertaining and thoughtful.
However, I don't recommend talking to God the way he does. But sometimes, I confess, I sound exactly like him.
Here's Job 17, a short chapter I posted this afternoon.
One step to the grave
1My spirit is broken. I’m as good as dead. There’s just one more thing to do: Get me to the grave on time. 2I’m tired of listening to insults. I’m weary of looking at angry faces. 3God, promise to stand by me. Who else would? 4 I can’t reason with these people anymore. You’ve turned them against me. You don’t get any points for that. [1] 5These people are like the guy who invites you to a party When your kids are back home, starving.
I’m spit’s bullseye
6God, you turned me into a punchline, The laugh at the end of demeaning jokes. These people spit on me Because of what you did to me. 7Grief and its tears blur my vision While my body shrivels into a shadow. 8Good and godly people look at me in disgust. And they treat me like the sinner they think I am.[2] 9They go on their merry way, Stronger in their faith Because they don’t want to end up like me. 10Well, here they come again For another walk by. Not a brain with sense among them.
My time is up
11History is about all I have left. My future is busted, My dreams are broken. 12I once dreamed in the darkness For the daylight ahead. But now, what’s the difference, Sunrise or sunset?[3]
Job’s invitation to join him in the ground
13Who cares if I say I’m going home to the grave,[4] Where I’ll lie on a cushion of darkness? 14Who cares if I say The Hole in the dirt is my dad, And the worms are my mom and sister? 15Down there, where should I go for hope? Where will I find my happy place? 16Would anyone like to join me In the place of the dead, On a short trip back into dust?
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