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.