Job CCLXXXVIII

 Job 30:9-15, “And now I am their taunting song; yes, I am their byword. They abhor me, they keep far from me; they do not hesitate to spit in my face. Because He has loosed my bowstring and afflicted me, they have cast off restraint before me. At my right hand the rabble arises; they push away my feet, and they raise against me their ways of destruction. They break up my path, they promote my calamity; they have no helper. They come as broad breakers; under the ruinous storm they roll along. Terrors are turned upon me; they pursue my honor as the wind, and my prosperity has passed like a cloud.”

Men will flatter you, defer to you, feign respect, and speak smooth words to your face for as long as they believe they have something to gain from doing so. Those who do so with a vested interest or an ulterior motive were never truly friends or brothers but opportunists who will turn on you, savage your reputation, and spit in your face the instant they can no longer profit from your position, largesse, influence, or authority.

It is a hard-learned lesson that many once influential people, whose influence has waned, have had to learn the hard way, because true friends, friends who are there through the ups and downs, the thick and thin, the feast and the famine, are hard to come by, more so today than ever before.

Everyone seems to have an angle of some sort, and they feign friendship not because they want to be your friend but because they think you are the means by which they might attain what they really want, whatever that thing might be.

I’ll be the first to admit I have very few friends. The older I get, the fewer friends I seem to have, but those I consider friends, I’ve known for years on end. It’s not because I’m unfriendly, but because there is truth in the adage, once bitten, twice shy.

I’ve lived a long life in a short time, and events of the past left their mark. I would be a fool not to have learned from past experiences, and I’ve come to the point in life where calling someone a friend means something, and isn’t a word I throw out willy-nilly. If I deem someone my friend, then they’re my friend, and they remain so for no other reason than that I value our friendship.

The men of Job’s day had concluded there was nothing more they could gain from showing him deference, respecting him, or seeing him as an equal, and they cast off restraint before him. In modern parlance, they revealed their true nature, told him how they really felt, and there was no kindness or empathy in their judgment of him.

One of my biggest pet peeves and something I cannot abide is when a supposed friend exploits another whom they likewise deem a friend. Every time I hear someone ask for a service, then follow up with, “Can I get the friend discount?” it doesn’t sit well with me because if someone’s my friend, my purpose shouldn’t be to try to shortchange them.

I would have needed the job done regardless, whether by him or another, so my asking for a discounted rate just because we are acquainted only goes to show how much value I place on the relationship.

Whether it's car repair or lawn maintenance, I do my best to give my business to people I know and deem as friends. Never once have I gone in for an oil change or had someone come and spray for weeds, only to turn around and demand a discounted rate because we’re friends. They have families to feed and roofs to keep over their heads, and if I am in a position to hire them for the job, I expect no special favors because of our friendship.

Some have even offered to cut me a deal, and I politely declined because our friendship meant more to me than the five bucks I would have saved had I accepted. By the same token, I expect the friends with whom I do business to be fair and not upcharge me just because of our friendship. I’ve had that happen a time or two, and the instant I discovered it, our friendship soured and was never the same again.  

One knows their true friends in times of hardship and adversity. When he was the greatest of all the people of the East, there was no shortage of men trying to ingratiate themselves with Job. Now that his prosperity had passed like a cloud and there was nothing they could gain from him, they abhorred him, kept far from him, and spat in his face.

Job’s character had been consistent throughout. Theirs had not. He had done nothing to warrant their animus or their taunting. He had not changed; they’d just revealed their true selves in the absence of any perceived gain from pretending to be his friends.

If you’ve ever had someone you deemed a friend turn their back on you, and wracked your brain as to what you may have done to cause such drastic change, it likely wasn’t you, and it was nothing you did. All that happened is that they concluded they could not gain what they’d planned on gaining from the feigned friendship, and as such, let the mask slip and revealed their true nature.

As children of God, it is our duty to employ wisdom in all things, and that includes choosing our friends. Choose your friend wisely because if you fail to do so, if the day ever comes when you will have to count on them, they’ll vanish like fog in the midday sun.

As my wife is fond of saying, a true friend isn’t someone who shows up for the feast, but someone who helps clean up after. When all the revelers have gone, full bellies and engaging conversation in tow, it’s the couple of people that stayed behind to help with the dishes and the trash and the disarray of it all that are true friends. If you don’t know someone like that, then be that someone, and if you’ve fallen short of being that someone, it’s never too late to start.  

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job CCLXXXVII

 Job 30:1-8, “But now they mock at me, men younger than I, whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock. Indeed, what profit is the strength of their hands to me? Their vigor has perished. They are gaunt from want and famine, fleeing late to the wilderness, desolate and waste, who pluck mallow by the bushes, and broom tree roots for their food. They were driven out from among men, they shouted at them as at a thief. They had to live in the clefts of the valleys, in caves of the earth and the rocks. Among the bushes they brayed, under the nettles they nestled. They were sons of fools, yes, sons of vile men; they were scourged from the land.”

When being mocked, ridiculed, or looked down upon, it matters who is doing the mocking and ridiculing. If it’s coming from someone you respect, someone you deem an equal, or someone you look up to, whatever they might say holds more weight than if it were someone you never knew, or someone who has, over time, proven themselves to be undeserving of your reaction to their mockery.

It’s not so much that hurt people hurt people; it’s someone looking for an axe to grind who will use every opportunity to do so, and Job’s current situation was the perfect opportunity for those who had felt slighted by him in any way throughout their existence to lash out and do their worst.

Job was fully aware of who was mocking him. He had identified them, knew them from his life before he’d lost everything, and there was no reason for him to feel hurt by what they said because they were neither men nor the sons of men he’d respected.

Some might look at Job’s words, a man whom God had deemed blameless and upright, and conclude that his words regarding how he viewed his mockers were a bit harsh, but we don’t know what was said about him, for how long, and how vociferously. Armchair quarterbacking might give someone an inflated sense of their own importance, but it’s rarely factual, true, or warranted.

The thing about mockers is that it’s never a one-and-done endeavor. It’s not as though they say one mean thing and then go on about their lives, especially if the person their barbs are aimed at doesn’t react the way they would like him to.

Job had enough on his plate where it is a logical conclusion that, though he’d heard their mockery, he had not reacted to it. That only emboldened them all the more, and they likely doubled down on their invectives toward him.

If you don’t respond to their attacks, it just makes them angrier and more rabid. If you do respond, it makes them louder and less logical. There’s no winning when it comes to mockers and their desire to put you in your place, at least as far as they see it, because they operate from a position of indignation and pour all the resentments of life, resentments you likely had no hand in causing, into their desire to bring you down a peg.

Sometimes they get so spun up that by the end of it, they see you as the cause of every calamity they’ve endured from the moment of their birth to the present, even if you’ve never met them in person or looked them in the face. You’re just a convenient target, and as far as Job was concerned, he was a target they did not think had enough strength left in him to put up a defense.      

Evidently, not only had their words reached his ears, but Job was able to identify who the words belonged to, and in a cutting retort, he reminds those within earshot that he used to disdain putting these selfsame individuals’ fathers with the dogs of his flock. These were not the offspring of men he’d respected, nor were they individuals pregnant with wisdom, for they were younger men than he, and he knew the stock from whence they came.

If the book of Job were set in the Wild West rather than in the desert four thousand years removed, a good comparison of what he said regarding those who mocked him would be “I knew your daddy when he begged to polish my boots, and even that he wasn’t good at.”

Know who it is that’s leveling accusations, mocking, and talking behind your back, and determine their motivation, as well as whether they’re worth the time to acknowledge their backbiting. Is it someone you respect enough to make their words cause you hurt, or is it someone who’s just trying to get attention by using you as the means to do so?

It’s a practice that has become commonplace of late, where someone no one’s ever heard of starts leveling attacks on people they’ve never met, hoping that their attacks will gain the traction they’re dreaming of and elevate them to some level of prominence.

If a teaching is unbiblical, by all means, prove it biblically, but there is a difference between ad hominem personal attacks regarding a personal preference that the Bible never weighs in on and false teaching or false doctrine.

We are called to defend the truth, we are called to stand for it, preach it, teach it, and obey it. We are not called to mock someone endlessly because they wear bolo ties instead of neckties, or because their preferred footwear is cowboy boots rather than Italian loafers.

Job assessed those who mocked him and concluded that they weren’t worth his time. They were gaunt from want and famine, and plucked broom tree roots for their food. They were driven out from among men, sons of fools and vile men who were scourged from the earth, so what did it matter what they thought of him? What did it matter what they said about him?

His own friends, men he respected, men who by their own words were proven to retain a modicum of wisdom, had done their best to dispirit Job, and it hadn’t worked, so why would the words of those who were driven out from among men and shouted at as at a thief have an effect on him?

The only opinion that mattered to Job was vertically focused, and not horizontally. What God thought meant everything. What men thought meant less than nothing. Value the opinion that matters, and the only opinion that matters is God’s.   

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job CCLXXXVI

  Job 29:18-25, “Then I said, ‘I shall die in my nest, and multiply my days as the sand. My root is spread out to the waters, and the dew lies all night on my branch. My glory is fresh within me, and my bow is renewed in my hand.’ Men listened to me and waited, and kept silence for my counsel. After my words they did not speak again, and my speech settled on them as dew. They waited for me as for the rain, and they opened their mouth wide as for the spring rain. If I mocked at them, they did not believe it, and the light of my countenance they did not cast down. I chose the way for them, and sat as chief; so I dwelt as a king in the army, as one who comforts mourners.”

True contentment is a jewel, a priceless treasure that, although often sought, is rarely found. As Job looks back on his life, he declares that once he had committed to causing the widow's heart to sing for joy, putting on righteousness as a cloak, and being a father to the poor, he had found his purpose, and in that purpose he’d found true contentment. There was no more for him to do than to keep doing what he’d been doing. Now that I’ve acquired this treasure, now that I’ve obtained this contentment, I shall die in my nest and multiply my days as the sand.

There was no bucket list; there wasn’t anything he felt he needed to do left undone; he wasn’t scrambling to acquire more, nor was he dissatisfied with what God had already given him. He was a man at peace, a man content, a man who’d found his purpose, and that purpose was to serve others, to help wherever he could, and to defend the innocent and vulnerable from the wicked.

I’ve known people who had next to nothing yet had contentment in abundance, and people who had more than they could ever spend who were miserable and perpetually anxious for fear of losing what they’d amassed.

Even at his apex, when Job was the greatest of all the people of the East, he was not defined by his wealth, nor did he see what he possessed as the thing that gave him meaning and purpose. Rich or poor, covered in fine linens or sitting in the dust covered in boils, his heart’s desire was to know the presence of God and have fellowship with Him.

What matters isn’t the number of zeros in a bank account; it’s who is sitting on the throne of your heart. Men spend their entire lives chasing zeros on a screen only to find themselves empty, rudderless, hopeless, joyless, and dissatisfied with life, even though, objectively speaking, they have all that one would ever need to attain happiness if happiness were found in possessions.

Job acknowledges that men deferred to him, listened and waited, kept silent for his counsel because of the position he held, but that was how they viewed him, rather than how he viewed himself. You can’t help how people see you, how people judge you, how much people respect you, or don’t. If your focus is on others rather than on God, you will inevitably steer toward becoming a people-pleaser, saying what they want you to say and doing what they want you to do, rather than what God would have you do and say.

Job knew full well he wasn’t making any friends by breaking the fangs of the wicked. It was likely fellow men of means with whom he tussled in his attempt to pluck the victim out of their teeth, and more than likely, they resented him for it, even hated him on some level, but felt compelled to bite their tongue because his status was superior to theirs.

If one could have been a fly on the wall of any of those noblemen’s homes after Job lost everything, the things one would have heard would confirm that they reveled in his demise, and the merriment and glee with which they recalled his downfall would have been stomach-churning.

Because they saw his demise through the prism of their self-interest, they likely also concluded that Job had gotten what was coming to him. He had stood in the way of what they deemed progress, had hindered their plans to exploit the widow and orphan to their dark purposes, and now the chickens had come home to roost, and he was getting exactly what he deserved.

On the one hand, you had Job’s friend who had concluded he was getting his just deserts for being wicked; on the other, you had wicked men concluding the same, only not because Job had committed wickedness, but had hindered them in theirs.

You can spend your time and energy worrying about how others see you, or you can dedicate that time to growing in God, building up your faith, and learning to hear His voice. The net benefit of doing the latter rather than the former is astronomical, and you will learn some powerful and indispensable lessons along the way.

The first lesson you will learn is that men’s opinions, whether for good or ill, should in no way affect you positively or negatively. Someone who praises you today will drive a dagger into your back tomorrow because man is fickle and self-serving. God, on the other hand, is faithful, and the more we cling to Him, the more He will cling to us.

The second lesson you will learn is that the things you once thought mattered, didn’t, the things you believed were of great import really weren’t, and when the dust settles and you look back on life, the only thing that will stand out as worthwhile and worth the investment was the time you spent in God’s presence, and the things you did to further cement that relationship.

Every noble virtue, every good thing in your life, every act of kindness, empathy, or selflessness, if pure, flows from one’s relationship with God. Yes, godless men perform acts of kindness once in a while, they show empathy here and there, but the purpose for which they do it, the reason behind why they chose to be charitable, is tainted, having some ulterior motive, whether the praise of their contemporaries, or the desire to be seen as noble and virtuous. Intent matters, and if what we do, whatever it may be, whether giving water to a thirsty soul or giving a hungry man a meal, stems from obedience to God, He will reward it in kind.           

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job CCLXXXV

 Job 29:13-17, “The blessing of a perishing man came upon me, and I caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy. I put on righteousness, and it clothed me; my justice was like a robe and a turban. I was eyes to the blind, and I was feet to the lame. I was a father to the poor, and I searched out the case that I did not know. I broke the fangs of the wicked, and plucked the victim from his teeth.”

It’s the things that define you, that you value, that you see as worth remembering that reveal your character more than any words you can speak. Job didn’t say he had his name on a building, drove a Ferrari, or had the fastest camel in the city. Whatever possessions Job was blessed with were not the things that he valued, nor were they the things that defined him or gave him worth as a person.

He wasn’t remembering designer sandals, or that one time he bought a gold-etched, personalized chariot with cash, he wasn’t reminiscing about his walk-in closet full of linen tunics, or how the only drink to pass his lips was grass-fed, pasture-raised, organic goat’s milk. None of that pasteurized stuff, no sir, fresh from the source is the only way to go.

What he did remember, what he thought worthy of mention, was that he’d caused the widow's heart to sing for joy, and the blessings of a perishing man had come upon him. By the latter, Job did not mean that he received reciprocity from God for his generosity toward a perishing man, but that a perishing man showed gratitude and blessed him for not walking by, ignoring him, or pretending he wasn’t there, and actively doing what he could to keep him from perishing.

I’ve not yet reached the age when what I’ll be remembered for weighs on me, but I know that season is coming and well on its way. For now, I’m more in the camp of asking myself what I’d like to be remembered for rather than what I’ll be remembered for in truth, and I can’t think of anything better I’d rather be remembered for than what Job desired, which was that he heard the cries of the desperate and saw the needs of the widow. Not a jet, not a mansion, not a watch that costs more than an entire neighborhood, but that my heart was tender enough to be a help to the helpless and give of my bread to feed one hungrier than myself.

For the believer, it’s not about leaving behind a legacy but about leaving behind a testimony of what Jesus can do in a life wholly surrendered to Him.

Last year, my father went to his eternal reward. He never amassed a fortune, never had his name up in lights, never rubbed elbows with the elites, yet he left behind a testimony of service, of pouring love into the lives of those without, and of being about the Father’s business with the consistency of a Swiss timepiece.

What you do with your time, how you steward what God has given you, the things you prioritize in this life, all come down to individual choice. Men choose to be selfish or selfless, self-serving or sacrificial, givers or takers, and the testimony they leave behind will be reflected in the choices they made along the way.

It’s not a judgment on anyone. I don’t subscribe to the idea that I have the right to tell another who has earned their money with the sweat of their brow how to spend it, or decide when they’ve bought enough homes or enough cars. I can, however, say, based on the historical data available and what the Bible says, that while cars rust, and homes crumble and decay, causing the widow’s heart to sing for joy will be remembered beyond this life by the One whose memory does not deteriorate with time, and who keeps pristine accounting of all we do in His name.

Throughout his discourse, Job did not boast of his possessions but rather of what he did with the things God entrusted to him, and it is a beautiful synopsis of a life well lived in service to others, not to make a name for himself, not to rise higher in the eyes of his contemporaries, but to be eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, and a father to the poor.

Given what Job says, we can also deduce that there were those in his time who exploited the poor, abused them, and discarded them. Rather than being indifferent to their mistreatment of the widow, the orphan, the lame, and the poor, Job says he broke the fangs of the wicked and plucked the victim from his teeth.

Job was not passive in his defense of the helpless. He was not one to sit idly by and see the wicked devour the widow and the orphan, but actively sought to defend and protect them. For those inclined to imagery, Job breaking the fangs of the wicked is by no means something timid, gentle, or mild. He both made his feelings known regarding the wicked who victimized the weak, as well as the lengths to which he had gone, and would again if the need arose to pluck them from their teeth.

Indifference is by far worse than ignorance, because indifference presupposes that one knew of a situation and chose to do nothing about it, while ignorance implies that one was not aware of the situation at all. While some attempt to mask their indifference by claiming ignorance, God still knows the truth of it. Job saw the poor, the hurting, the widow, and the orphan; he saw the attempts of the wicked to exploit them, and neither flinched away from doing what he knew to be the right thing, nor did he feign ignorance of their plight.

If one’s steps are ordered by the Lord, as Scripture tells us they are, then that person needing comfort you ran into wasn’t by accident, nor was the person needing a meal, a coat, or some encouragement. The truth of it, uncomfortable as it might be, is that even many believers today are so self-absorbed that they can’t be bothered to show kindness to strangers. They are so myopic in their quest to amass, acquire, and squirrel away all that their eyes see that they fail to recognize the moments when God Himself arranged a divine appointment so that they might be a blessing, a comfort, and a helping hand.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job CCLXXXIV

 Job 29:7-12, “When I went out to the gate by the city, when I took my seat in the open square, the young men saw me and hid, and the aged arose and stood; the princes refrained from talking, and put their hand on their mouth; the voice of the nobles was hushed, and their tongue stuck to the roof of their mouth. When the ear heard, then it blessed me, and when the eye saw, then it approved me; because I delivered the poor who cried out, the fatherless and the one who had no helper.”

Job wasn’t a nobody who stayed a nobody. He was a somebody who became a nobody in the eyes of his contemporaries. It’s the difference between falling off a stepstool and falling off the roof of the house. Neither is pleasant, but one will hurt far worse than the other.

Job had been a man of great influence in his city, one who garnered respect and admiration, so much so that when he was present, even princes refrained from talking and put their hands on their mouths. Even the nobles were hushed in his presence, and their tongues stuck to the roof of their mouth, because even in their hubris, they realized Job was a notch above their station, whether in possessions, position, or authority and influence.

Even though he was the greatest of all the people of the East, he did not use his wealth to subjugate the weak, nor was he a man lacking in character and morals. He did not look down on the poor, the fatherless, and those who had no helper, but delivered them.

Because his relationship with God defined him, Job was a man with a heart for the hurting, one who, out of his own largesse, helped those who had no way to repay his kindness. His inclination was not to hobnob with the nobles or ingratiate himself with those in power but to show kindness, empathy, and charity to those who went largely ignored and seen as a nuisance rather than fellow human beings.

There is no way of knowing if Job had always been kind, generous, and charitable, but what we can know with certainty is that his relationship with God amplified these qualities in him, as God’s presence always does.

The presence of God transforms a man from the inward parts. A heart of stone is replaced with a heart of flesh, an indifferent posture toward the needs of others transforms into a desire to reach out and help those who are hurting, not because there is something to gain from showing kindness to strangers, or because it will polish one’s image with the public, but because it has become one’s nature to do so.

When Job delivered the poor who cried out, or the fatherless who had no helper, he wasn’t doing it because there were cameras present, or because a news crew had just arrived, and it would elevate his status with the masses if they saw him being magnanimous. It wasn’t about him or his image but about being obedient to the voice of God, and doing the things he knew would be well pleasing to the Lord.

It’s not so much that the presence of God makes you the best version of yourself as some are fond of saying, but rather the presence of God transforms you into a likeness of Him, which transcends who you are or what you could become on your own.

Some of the most impactful testimonies I’ve ever heard had to do with the juxtaposition between who someone was before Jesus and who He transformed them into after His indwelling presence. Men, once given to violence, anger, and malice, became gentle and meek by the transformative power of Jesus, not because they tried really hard to be better men, but because God made them better men.

From the outside looking in, such a transformation makes no sense and seems impossible. For those still in darkness, even the flicker of a candle can be blinding. Eventually, some get up the courage to ask what the secret is, what steps the person took to turn his life around. Was it meditation, reflection, journaling, therapy, pharmaceutical-grade anti-depressants? And there’s your window. There’s your opportunity to speak the name that changed your life for the better, that transformed you, and set you on the path of righteousness: Jesus!

Job’s discourse does not come off as a lament over the loss of his possessions, his status, or the way others viewed him. His singular desire was the knowledge of God, and for such a man, what others say about you, whether for good or ill, doesn’t affect you or impact you, whether positively or negatively. He was looking back on his life and stating facts. He didn’t try to make himself out to be more generous, influential, or respected than he had been; he was looking back on a life well lived and remembering.

There are those who amplify and trumpet the smallest of kindness they show toward others, then there are those who do the heavy lifting, who give, and sacrifice, and understand that God sees the truth of it, He sees the heart with which we help the poor and the fatherless and though we may help in secret, the Father who sees in secret will Himself reward us openly. Job wasn’t praise-farming, nor was he trying to elicit a positive response from his friends. By this point, they’d already made up their minds; they thought him a wicked man, and nothing he could say would change their minds. If for nothing else, then for posterity, Job took a stroll down memory lane and remembered those he helped along the way, who would likely be dead and gone if not for his godly heart.  

Yes, the notion of giving has been perverted and twisted into something more closely resembling a pyramid scheme, but this does not mean God will not reward us if we do it from a pure heart and with pure intentions. Job didn’t help the poor, hoping to get more, or because he expected a return on his investment, but because it was the right thing to do, and he knew it. That God blessed him was a by-product, and not the purpose for his generosity.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job CCLXXXIII

 If, as God Himself clearly stated, the fear of the Lord is wisdom, and to depart from evil is understanding, why are these things so sparsely, anemically, and infrequently taught in the modern-day church? We go out of our way to repackage and rebrand humanism and present it as wisdom; we twist ourselves into pretzels trying to circumvent the fear of the Lord and the need to depart from evil, while still insisting we can attain it without these two pillars. We regurgitate tropes and mantras that time has proven to be worthless and ineffective, all to avoid addressing these two biblically sound truths.

Why are the fear of the Lord and departing from evil avoided like the plague in the contemporary church? Why are we so reticent to preach the whole counsel of God, and rather choose to cherry-pick passages that do nothing to challenge us, chasten us, or correct us? There could only be one of two answers to this question: either those responsible for rightly dividing the Word do not want those under them to attain wisdom and understanding, or they do not believe God at His word. Either one is bad optics on the best of days, and rebellious disobedience on the worst.  

Job 29:1-6, “Job further continued his discourse, and said: ‘Oh, that I were as in months past, as in the days when God watched over me; when His lamp shone upon my head, and when by His light I walked through darkness; just as I was in the days of my prime, when the friendly counsel of God was over my tent; when the Almighty was yet with me, when my children were around me; when my steps were bathed with cream, and the rock poured out rivers of oil for me!”’

When the presence of God is a constant in one’s life, any deviation from it, any absence of it, even a temporary one, is like a hammer blow. It is likened to suddenly having your airflow constricted and not being able to take your next breath. Everything was normal, life was as life is, then suddenly, you exhale, and try as you might, you can’t catch your next breath.

People who don’t miss the presence of God never had it to begin with. That may sound harsh, but it is nevertheless the truth. If one wanders from the way, if one ceases to have the fear of the Lord, or no longer departs from evil but instead surrenders to it, and they do not feel God’s absence, then they never truly felt His presence. They may have had some emotional reaction to a sermon or a hymn, it may even have elicited tears, but as far as the abiding presence of God, if it was present and begins to wane, or is absent altogether, alarm bells would be going off, and the only thing on their mind would be to return to their first love, and reestablish fellowship with the Almighty.

Job knew what was missing because he’d lived with God’s presence for years on end. He did not know the reasons behind why he felt abandoned and forsaken; he just knew that things were not as they were, not because of the things he’d lost but because of the absence of His presence.

Perhaps God’s presence wasn’t absent altogether, and Job still saw glimpses of Him through the haze of his pain and loss, but what was once a raging bonfire was now mere embers, and Job remembered the fire. He remembered the warmth of it, the brightness of it, and knowing what had been and comparing it to what now was, tore at him.

Job was not vague about what was missing. The specificity with which he detailed these things only proves the depth of devotion, fellowship, and relationship Job possessed. He knew God had watched over him, but felt it no longer. He knew God’s lamp shone upon his head, and that he walked through darkness by His light, yet now, things were dim, and he was no longer sure-footed. The friendly counsel of God once over his tent was no longer present, and he felt the loss of all these things.

It wasn’t a tingle in his toes that Job was missing; it was verifiable attributes of a true relationship with the Almighty that Job no longer felt. It didn’t matter what area of his life he was referring to, Job acknowledged God in every single one. It was by His light that he walked through darkness, not by his sharpened senses, not because he’d bought the newest flashlight, not even because the ground he trod in the darkness was so well known to him that he knew where every loose stone and pebble was. His dependence was not on his own faculties to guide him through life, but on the God he served, trusting Him to light the way.

As a father, I also found it highly relatable that, of all the things he’d lost, the one thing he remembers with both sadness, fondness, and regret was the times when his children were around him. He makes no mention of the oxen, goats, camels, or earthly possessions he’d been stripped of, but he does mention his children, remembering the time when they were around him.

The world makes treasures of worthless things, of baubles and fool’s gold, while dismissing the true treasures, those things that come from the hand of God, that bring joy, fulfillment, and wholeness in ways no material things can. You can lament for those still blind to life’s true treasures if they are still of the world, but as sons and daughters of God, we should know better and use our time accordingly. It’s the things that don’t have a price tag, that aren’t exclusive to the elite, that aren’t reserved for the rich that reveal the majesty of our creator God, from the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, to the smile of a newborn babe in swaddles.

Not only was Job a blameless and upright man, but he also had his priorities in order and valued what truly mattered in this life. Most people read the book of Job and conclude that it is the quintessential prototype of how to suffer well, but it’s these small glimpses into his life that reveal there was more to him than the ability to endure hardship, and more lessons could be learned from his life than submitting to God’s sovereignty in all things. Yes, that one lesson stands head and shoulders above the rest, but we dismiss the others to our detriment.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.