Job CLIII

Job wasn’t looking to his friends to save him. He knew that even if they wanted to, they couldn’t because his situation wasn’t one that could be remedied by the intervention of men. Job entreated God because he knew where his salvation would ultimately come from if there was salvation to be had. He will be my salvation! Not you, not your accusations, not your judgments, but God will be my salvation, and it is before Him I must search my heart, and not before you.

In our modern age, we’ve taken the idea that God knows our heart and mutilated it to a point wherein it is used as an excuse and justification for anything and everything we pursue that is contrary to Scripture. I know I do all these horrible things, but God knows my heart. Yes, He does, and in light of this, the fear of the Lord should make you tremble like a reed in a hurricane.

Job was fully assured that God knew His heart, but he also acknowledged that a hypocrite could not come before Him. We tend to appropriate the first part but dismiss the second part because the second part holds us accountable for our actions and the choices we make throughout our lives. I cannot live in rebellion and disobedience and use the notion that God knows my heart as a justification for it.

There was no hypocrisy in Job’s self-assessment. He didn’t insist upon his innocence to try and impress his friends or make himself seem spiritually superior to them. He wasn’t playing at being an upright and blameless man; he was an upright and blameless man. This is not a distinction without a difference. Pretending to be something and being something are two very different things.

Job 13:20-22, “Only two things do not do to me, then I will not hide myself from You: withdraw Your hand far from me, and let not the dread of You make me afraid. Then call, and I will answer; or let me speak, then You respond to me.”

By the twentieth verse, Job was no longer addressing his friends or trying to convince them of anything. He realized it was a lost cause, so he began petitioning and beseeching God directly.

If there was ever any doubt over Job’s deep devotion and love for God, the two things he asked for should dispel it altogether. Job didn’t ask God to restore his health, his wealth, or his family, nor did he didn’t ask God to make him forget the past few months or take the pain away. His two requests were that God not withdraw His hand far from him and that the dread of Him would not make him afraid.

Even in his condition, Job’s uttermost priority and the singular desire of his existence was the continued presence of God in his life. Do not withdraw Your hand far from me! I can bear all these other things. I can bear the loss of my children, the loss of my wealth, the loss of my health, and the loss of the respect my friends had for me once upon a time, but what I cannot bear is the absence of You!

When it came to Job’s hierarchy of needs, God wasn’t competing with something else or positioned alongside health, wealth, and a comfortable life. He wasn’t one need among many; He was the need, the one thing Job could not live without, the one thing Job desired above all else.

Anyone with a superficial understanding of God will never reach the point where all that they desire is more of Him. They will, perhaps, acknowledge the benefits of knowing God, even go so far as wanting to know more of Him, but as far as reaching the point of desperation where everything else in this present life is as ash and dust compared to His presence, one must possess an understanding of His character, nature, and majesty.

If Job had ever been underwhelmed by the presence of God, if spending time with Him had ever grown banal or fallen short of his expectations, if the God he served failed him more often than He came through, his singular desire would not have been for God not to withdraw His hand far from him.

Whenever the weather permits, my girls are outside playing, whether making forts out of sticks, trying to outdo each other on who can do more cartwheels, climbing trees, playing hide and seek, or anything else their imaginative minds can conjure. Since we live in Wisconsin, there are days when they are forced to remain indoors, and that’s usually when they get into a spirited game of “Would You Rather.”

If you don’t know the rules of the game, it’s quite simple: one person asks a question starting with “Would you rather,” followed by a binary choice, and the other has to pick one. I’ve heard it all. Would you rather have the ability to fly or breathe underwater? Would you rather be able to speak to animals or walk through walls? Would you rather lose your sense of smell or taste, and the list goes on and on? 

For Job, every answer was God. Given the choice between more wealth or God, he chose God. Given the option between health and God, he chose God. Given the option between anything in this world, anything material, whether all the earthly treasures of men or a position of prominence and authority, and God, he chose God.

We’re often envious of the relationships those who came before us had with God, not realizing that we can have the same if our desire is for God above all else, every day, no matter the situation or circumstance. The reason God reveals Himself to some and not others is because those to whom He reveals Himself desire Him alone, exclusively, without expecting anything more than the knowledge of Him in return. Men today do not know God because they lack a genuine desire to know Him. The only thing they’re interested in is how they can profit from claiming to know Him rather than desiring a true and abiding relationship, and it shows.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.