Job XLVI

Some would readily wither on the vine, merely contemplating Job’s trials, never mind going through them. We all have our version of what tragedy, adversity, hardship, and calamity may look like in our mind’s eye, and the limits of my imagination may be different than yours, and yours may be different than another’s.

Depending on where you grew up, how you grew up, and the type of difficulty you had to overcome, not finding the right brand of cereal at the local grocer can seem like an unbearable and unduly cruel hardship. If you happen to tell someone who had to eat tree bark as a kid just to keep their stomach from growling that the Piggly Wiggly was out of Grape Nuts and it ruined your day, they’re likely to roll their eyes and think some less than kind things about your affirmation.

It’s all a matter of context and previous experience, but wherever you land on the spectrum of what you believe true suffering to be, we can all agree that Job is the gold standard. Whatever trivial thing I may be going through on a given day, from a flat tire or the car not starting to getting stuck in traffic for an hour on an ordinary Tuesday, all I have to do is bring to mind the things Job endured to feel a sense of gratefulness wash over me and repent for considering such things hardships worthy of bemoaning.

For the last three decades and change, I’ve traveled back and forth to Romania consistently. Less so since the girls were born, but my little brother was there to pick up the slack, so I didn’t feel the need to leave my wife and children in order to go and do what someone else could. The ministry began as an outreach to the poor, abandoned, and forgotten of Romania, and although we have broadened our work to include Ukraine of late, the core of our mission statement remains intact. We feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and look after the orphan and the widow to the best of our ability. In so doing, I have come to realize that my definition of poverty is someone else’s definition of wealth and prosperity.

It’s hard to be bitter about having to buy a second-hand car or clothes from a thrift store when you’re daily hearing stories from people not knowing if they’ll survive the coming winter because they have no firewood and no means with which to purchase some. Unless you are made of stone, it changes your perspective about how blessed you are and that countless millions worldwide dream of the life you currently despise and deem cumbersome and needlessly cruel.

I’m not trying to lay a guilt trip on anyone; I’m speaking for myself. There are a myriad of daily graces and blessings I take for granted, from decent health to a roof over my head to the ability to work and earn enough, wherein I don’t have to be fearful about my children freezing to death. These are not things I am entitled to or deserve, yet on a certain level, I feel as though will always be there in some form or fashion.

The attitude of gratitude we must possess is not something naturally occurring in the human heart. It is something that must be nurtured and encouraged to grow, and in so doing, it keeps the desire for more or the tendency to compare our lot to those who have more by way of the material at bay.

A couple of years back, shortly after they started attending classes in person again, I noticed my daughters were coming home with stories of what the other kids in their class had been gifted or the new toys their parents had acquired, to the point that every week someone had gotten a new doll house, a pony, a new car, or were planning a vacation somewhere exotic. There was always a tinge of expectation or a questioning look in their eyes as to why we weren’t doing the same, and it was largely the reason my wife and I decided to take a family trip to Romania, so they could see the other side of life, and hopefully learn to appreciate what they had and not envy what others did.

For the two weeks we were there, I took my daughters and my dad, and we went out to numerous villages, passing out food packages, clothing, and finances where needed, and they got to see true poverty in a way very few in our Western culture get to do. Young as they were, they were able to make the connection between the life they lived, with running water, indoor plumbing, electricity, and something to eat always within reach, and the lengths to which others have to go just to survive.

I could see the shift in their mindset and the change in their outlook. It was a transformative experience for them. They went from asking when they could get a new toy some girl at school had just gotten to giving their stuffies to children their age who had no more to play with than a rusty bucket and a stick.

Perspective matters. It allows us to be thankful for the things God has given us rather than be envious of others who have more. Even in our hardship, our suffering, or our testing, though it may seem unbearable to us, we must acknowledge that others have been where we are, and they had to endure far worse, yet they persevered.

Given the examples and testimonies of those who came before us, rather than bemoaning our current lot, our time would be far better spent discovering how men such as Job endured all that came upon him while remaining faithful, retaining his integrity, and not growing disillusioned, bitter, or disheartened.

Once you know how something is done, you can replicate it, using the same means to achieve the same result. First, Job knew the God he served intimately and profoundly. Second, Job trusted the God he served and His sovereignty throughout. Third, Job clung to his faith and hope regardless of the situation he found himself in, knowing the goodness of God, even when his life was reduced to a pile of ash and a potsherd.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.