Aftermath

 I’ve never been happier to be wrong. It’s like thinking you’re having a heart attack, and all it was is indigestion from the slice of gas station pizza you scarfed down because you hadn’t eaten in a day, and your stomach was starting to sound like one of the brass bands that frequent the French Quarter in New Orleans on Sundays.

For those thinking it’s over and blue skies paint the horizon as far as the eye can see, not even close, but at least we won’t have to hear that Rachel Lavine is a brave and beautiful woman or that pronouns trump accomplishments, that gender outweighs ability, or that the way to a glorious future is the indiscriminate murder of the unborn, at least not for a little while.

Evidently, enough people showed up, hoping against hope, that their vote mattered, wherein they beat the spread. It’s not as though they didn’t try their hardest, but you could only do so much with what you’ve been handed, and a guy on crutches with a torn Achilles can’t be expected to be the deciding factor in a soccer game.

Jaded as the following may sound, there are still seventy-five days until inauguration day, and a lot can happen between now and then. The game has now shifted into overdrive. Those currently in power understand the existential threat the current projected winner of the 2024 presidential elections and the rogue's gallery of competent, accomplished, and motivated individuals he’s surrounded himself with this time around pose to permanent Washington and the deep-seated animus they have toward the unelected bureaucrats ruling and pulling strings from the shadows.

They are now backed into a corner with nothing left to lose, and the thought of what’s best for the country is the farthest thing from their mind. Havoc and chaos are two words that come to mind when I think about the next two and a half months, and once again, I hope from the depths of my heart that I am wrong.

Unlike many this morning, I am not in a celebratory mood; I’m just breathing a sigh of relief, being cautiously optimistic about being given a little more time to do what I’ve been called to do and not have to hand out charcoal pills to my girls every morning before they enjoy their squirrel ragout. A thing delayed is not a thing denied. A thing forestalled is just that. It has been put off but not reversed.

Band-aids on bullet wounds may staunch the bleeding for a while, but you still need to contend with the wound itself. There are no easy fixes, no magic wands, or other levers anyone can pull that will fix what’s been broken for decades on end. Spiritual problems cannot be fixed politically, no matter who’s in charge, but as I’ve stated before, being left alone to serve God and raise my children is enough of an incentive for me. That I won’t have someone with pink hair and a septum piercing knocking at my door asking why I’m not flying the rainbow flag, that transgender ideology won’t be mandated in my daughters’ school curriculum, or that the local burger joint won’t be offering a free abortion with the purchase of a happy meal, is a good thing. That’s as far as my expectations extend, and anything beyond that is a boon.

Globalism may have lost this battle, but those in the shadows are still fully intent on fighting the war to the last. For those who insist this election was inconsequential, look at the reactions of those pushing various depraved agendas over the next few weeks, and you’ll understand that it wasn’t.

We will resume our study of Job shortly. With this new wrinkle, we may still be around long enough to finish it. In all things, God’s will be done, and to Him be the glory.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Crossroads

You can either curse the darkness or light a candle. I heard that somewhere once, and it stuck. When in full dark, with no moon or stars to bleed a little light into the murk, even a flickering, sputtering candle will push back the cloying darkness enough for it not to seem a tangible thing, pressing in all around you. We’d all rather have a spotlight or a flashlight with enough lumens to burn our shadow into a neighboring tree, but sometimes you have to use what’s at your disposal, and a half-used wax candle is all we’ve got.

The thing about darkness is that it hates any light whatsoever, including something as seemingly innocuous as a flickering candle. Light is light, and it seeks to extinguish it no matter how small and infrequent it might be. Once it can convince enough people to give up their candles voluntarily, it will inevitably try to take those remaining by force.

I grew up in a Communist country for the first nine years of my life. My parents and grandparents lived under the regime for much longer. I know what it becomes when it’s fully implemented in a nation where the people no longer have a voice, a choice, or a means of redress for the abuse they endure at the hands of those with a chip on their shoulder and an inferiority complex.

I’ve heard enough stories and spoken to enough people about what it was like to know the lengths to which those in power will go to retain the power they’ve amassed and how they view everyone except their inner circle as disposable fodder for the utopia they’ve envisioned that will never materialize because human nature is what it is, and hedonism is alive and well.

This is why I chuckle at those who’ve never lived it pining for the equity of Socialism or Communism. Although with their lips, they say the only thing they’ve ever wanted was equality, in their hearts, they echo George Orwell's sentiment, insisting that some animals are more equal than others. Serendipitously, they never see themselves as the inferior animals. It’s always you and I, the people who just want to be left alone to raise their children and serve their God, who derive joy from something other than power or possessions that are deemed less than.

Those who tried to exterminate Christians and Christianity did so not because they held some special hatred toward Jesus but because Jesus gave men hope, and they didn’t like the competition. The system wants exclusive rights to hope, and anything standing in the way of total dependence on the government must be excised and done away with.

Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. That’s the price of ignorance, and eventually, everyone must pay it. By the time enough people realize what their nation has become, it’s too late to do anything about it except go along, hoping that you won’t be singled out by the machine and have your life turned inside out, villainized, and demonized for not going along with every twisted thing a finite minority now deems as the new normal.

Even though people were starving, being abused, sent to labor camps, imprisoned, tortured, and having everything the system deemed excessive seized on a whim, Nicolae Ceausescu still managed to get 99% of the votes when they were all counted, but even that wasn’t good enough. After every election, they would release the hounds to find that 1% who dared not comply and reeducate them in very violent ways. The 99% were used as the undeniable proof that the 1% were just rabble-rousers and needed to be dealt with lest the 1% turn into 2% come the next election cycle.

As I sat in my chair sipping my coffee this morning, I was left with three choices: say nothing and pretend as though we are not at a crossroads, be hyper-pious and acknowledge the situation for what it is but insist that all I’m willing to do is watch the darkness encroaching, or share my heart knowing that some will take it the wrong way and judge me for it.

The possibility that America can be saved is not on the table. It hasn’t been for quite some time. Judgment is coming, so the only variable left to consider is when. If I can have another four years of watching my daughters grow up in relative peace and continue to do the work to which God has called me, being left alone and not being forced to bend the knee or suffer the consequences of my refusal, then I will make an effort to light my candle, though some within the household of faith may deem it unseemly. Yes, it’s a gnarled, half-burned, wax-laden candle, but it’s still a candle and can produce a bit of light. I will not forfeit my right to push back against the darkness, even if, in the aggregate, it’s but a flicker.

Will it do anything to change the course of this nation? Likely not, but neither will cursing the darkness and being unwilling to do anything to halt its progression. I will not be a coward. I will not. I don’t think I could bear looking my daughters in the face if I were.

Sometimes in life, you have to take a stand, even against overwhelming odds. It’s not because you think you’ll win, but because it’s the right thing to do. Who knows? Perhaps someone will see your boldness, and another theirs, and eventually, enough people stand up and shake off the dust that they bring the fight to the enemy and give him a run for his money.

I write the following with a heavy heart: The day will come, and sooner than some may think, when those who stood on the sidelines and did nothing will wish they had, but it will be too late.

We will return to our journey through Job shortly. For now, remember that those who despise the God you serve have no love for you either. You cannot hate one’s Master but love His servants, no matter how much they try to convince you otherwise. 

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.         

Job XXXVII

 The more we draw near to God, the more we grow in Him, the more we see our own wretchedness and those areas in our lives that must be pruned and tended to. Since we’ve become fans of labeling everything, the term that has been coined for this continual maturing and growing in righteousness is progressive sanctification. Daily, we become more like Him; daily, our desires, aspirations, goals, and ambitions are transformed because the more of Him we know, the more humbled we are by His love and grace.

We are being transformed, and daily so, from glory to glory, and that which we took pleasure in yesterday becomes as a bitter taste in our mouth today because we realize it is hindering our walk with Him.

What should be more troubling than world events or politics to some today is the reality that they’ve been in a static spiritual state for years, if not decades. They have not grown, matured, or been transformed but are the same as they ever were, the only difference being a fish sticker on their car. It may not be spiritual death, but it’s close enough, and the more time passes that they remain in that inert state, the colder their hearts become toward the things of God.

The pinnacle of your spiritual maturity isn’t when you surrender your heart to Christ; that’s just the beginning of a lifelong journey, and with each passing day, your spiritual man must become more robust, your faith more steadfast, and your walk more surefooted. It took a lifetime of Job walking with God, knowing Him, and serving Him for him to be able to hold fast to his integrity when his trial buffeted him. Had he not prioritized his relationship with God over all else, we may have never been privy to the story of Job or his faithfulness in the bleakest of circumstances.

2 Corinthians 3:17-18, “Now the Lord is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.”

Men abuse liberty just as they abuse grace, not understanding that the message Paul was trying to send to the Corinthians via his second letter wasn’t permission to do as they willed but rather a reminder that although they had liberty, lest they forget, the natural progression of an individual is to be transformed into the image of the Lord, from glory to glory.

When men refuse to put away childish things, any excuse will do. They’ll butcher scripture, take it out of context, twist it to say something it clearly doesn’t, all because their sin is more important to them than serving, worshipping, and knowing God. That’s the reality of it. They forfeit the knowledge of God for the momentary, fleeting pleasures of life but still have the temerity to insist that they are walking in His will because they have liberty.

If Job had been looking for an excuse to give up, one was within reach. He could have deemed his trials undeserved, too harsh for a loving God to allow, or not what he signed up for, but instead, he held fast to his integrity and worshipped God.

Even when his wife came up with the brilliant idea that he should curse God and die, he didn’t react in anger, browbeat her, or demand that she remove herself from his presence. Even at his lowest, as she poured salt into the open wounds, his character remained intact, and his response was in accordance with it.

Job 2:10, “But he said to her, “You speak as one of the foolish women speaks. Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?” In all this Job did not sin with his lips.”

We know next to nothing about Job’s life up until the point the enemy asked to sift him. By then, he’d already amassed a great fortune, had ten children, and oversaw a large household. Given the time of Job, however, it would not be a stretch to conclude that he was a hard man, as all the men of that time needed to be in order to survive, yet when he addressed his wife, even though she’d been used by the enemy to try and get him to curse God, he spoke to her with a tenderness inherent in decades-long marriages the world over. It may be a small, often overlooked thing, but having been married for a quarter of a century, come next June, his tenderness toward his wife even as he sat in ashes, covered in painful boils, and scratching himself with a potsherd, speaks volumes to me.

He didn’t berate her, call her an idiot, scream at her, or strike her as was common in those days, but inferred he was surprised that she would speak as one of the foolish women speaks. Job thought much of his wife, the mother of his children, and he couldn’t reconcile her words with the woman with whom he’d shared his life.

The transformative power of God extends to every area of our lives. It’s not just in the consistency of worship but in how we interact with those around us, whether disagreeable spouses, snarky progeny, obtuse bosses, or angry neighbors. It’s that transformation into the likeness of Christ that those who knew us while we were still of the world notice and react to first before we even get a chance to tell them about Jesus.

My grandfather’s brother was neither a kind nor gentle man while he was still of the world. He was gruff, barrel-chested, with a short fuse and calloused knuckles. Violence was his go-to, no matter the situation, and any perceived sleight was enough to set him off. That he was a heavy drinker, what some may deem a functioning alcoholic nowadays, didn’t help matters either. Then he encountered Jesus, surrendered his life to Him, and he was a man transformed, a new man, in every sense of the word. He stopped drinking, cursing, being short-tempered and easily offended, and the man who once stirred so much fear in the hearts of others as to make them cross the street if they saw him coming now smiled, and laughed, and asked others if they needed help for no other reason than to be helpful.

Every time I went back to Romania after the revolution, I’d make it a point to visit the village I grew up in, and it was inevitable that I would hear stories of the Duduman boys and their rebellious years, each story ending with the requisite, “You should have seen them when they were young. I can’t believe it’s the same person.”

It’s not that I didn’t believe the core of the stories; I just thought they were a bit exaggerated until one day, I was in a Zody’s department store parking lot with my grandfather. Zody’s was a discount version of K-Mart back in the day, which in its own right had been a discount version of Montgomery Ward. My grandmother had bought him a Botany 500 shirt from there, a brand which by that time had fallen out of favor, and they had them on clearance for a whopping three dollars. He liked the feel and fit of it, so we went back to get a few more.

As we were getting ready to leave, a man began to yell something about denting his Volkswagen Beetle, parked a few spots away from our car, even though we hadn’t gone near it. My grandfather asked what the man wanted, and I told him. My grandpa shook his head, and we turned to leave, but the man just kept yelling and started walking toward us.

I’d never seen the other side of my grandfather, the side I’d heard stories about. He’d been a believer for many years by the time I came along, and all I’d ever known was the gentle side of him, but as the man came closer, yelling and wagging his finger, I saw my grandfather’s jaw muscles working and a look flash in his eyes that I’d never seen before. He didn’t bunch his fists or peacock; he didn’t become outwardly aggressive, just a look passing over his face, and evidently, the man saw it too because he stopped midstride, raised his hands, and said, “You know what, sorry, perhaps I was mistaken,” then turned and walked to his car.

It was years later that I realized the old man was trying to wiggle off the cross, and though my grandfather had always been the gentlest man I’ve ever known, his capacity for violence was real and true, lending credence to all the stories I’d heard.

That’s what the Spirit of the Lord does: He inhabits, and He transforms, from glory to glory, continually molding us into His likeness.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job XXXVI

We often romanticize the Christian walk. Especially in our day and age, rather than portraying it as warfare, we tend to sing of holding hands with Jesus and walking side by side or staring dreamily into His eyes. Perhaps it’s because, for the few minutes, we’re crooning about sweet nothings, the sting of what it means to stand and having done all to stand isn’t quite so pronounced, but we dare not live in an environment of puffy clouds and flower-strewn meadows lest the enemy sneak up on us unaware and hamstring our resolve with one swipe of his claws.

Even those who teach it seem to have never done it because how they frame and present walking in the way seems so carefree and effortless that it evokes thoughts of summer frolics in the grass and windswept sands upon a beach.

Raise your hand right where you are, repeat these words, and you’re in the clear. A catchall cure-all for whatever ails you, and all you have to do is send in a tithe check!

But what about striving to enter through the narrow gate? What about many being called but few chosen? What about endurance and perseverance? We poll-tested those talking points, and they didn’t do so well with our audience. Prosperity, though, is off the charts and popular with every age demographic.

But what of the gospel and rightly dividing the Word? Well, you see, in order to spread the gospel, we must have money, and in order to get money, we must preach another gospel until we get enough money to go forth and preach the real gospel. You wouldn’t understand. By the way, you’re late on your tithe check. That’s two strikes. If we get to three, we’ll disfellowship with you and call you Ichabod.

Yes, I exaggerate to make a point, but just barely. The reason true faith is no longer discussed in many churches and the Christian walk is not presented in its true light is because, gullible as some of the sheep may be, the inconsistency between the message and the lifestyle of the messenger will be too obvious.

There he goes with his poverty mindset again. If that’s what you got from it, you missed the point entirely. I begrudge no man who works hard and is rightly compensated for his labors, but even the rich must contend with the reality that the spiritual man, the spiritual walk, and the eternity that beckons with every breath must be prioritized over this present life and material possessions. Job is the constant reminder that wealth is not a replacement for God. Not even close. If we can’t muster more energy seeking God than we do seeking earthly comforts, our priorities are skewed and improperly ranked.

We don’t live to work; we work to live, to earn our daily bread, but the overarching purpose of our endeavors must be serving God and serving people. You can easily spot the self-serving among the household of faith because they always seem to be the tip of the funnel of what has become a spiritualized form of a pyramid scheme. 

Because the hearts of those tasked with offering spiritual succor are tethered to the things of this earth, and seeking the things above comes second to their seeking the things of this earth, they are reticent in presenting the true gospel. If they were to speak the truth and tell people that the Christian walk is warfare and battle, wounds and bruises, but that through it all, God will be there to carry you through, you’d likely get a few raised eyebrows wondering how Bishop, Pastor, or Apostle are doing warfare from behind the wheel of a Bentley or a McLaren.

Some of the brasher ones might come up with the narrative that they need a fast car to run the devil over in the spirit, but rather than have to explain why every minute of their day seems to be focused on the here, the now, and their physical comfort, they’ll beat the prosperity drum until there’s nothing left to beat.

Job was rich one day, then destitute the next. He had seven sons and three daughters whom he loved enough to bring burnt offerings on behalf of one day, then buried what remained of them the next after being crushed by the house they were in. He was healthy one day and covered in painful boils from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head. Through it all, Job held fast to his integrity.

If you don’t particularly like roller coasters but you got on one because you didn’t want your ten-year-old daughter to think you a coward, then you have an idea of what holding fast means. It’s not a passive action; it is an active one. You cling to that bar in front of you for all you’re worth because if you were meant to corkscrew and loop-di-loop, God would have given you wings and the ability to fly.

The enemy’s attacks will always be aimed at separating you from your integrity. There will always be the temptation to make a compromise, small and subtle at first, but if you relent and make it, the temptation for ever greater compromises will be short in coming. Hold fast to faith, hold fast to hope, hold fast to your integrity and the Word of God, even if everything around you is trying to pull you away.

It’s a lot like being on the aforementioned roller coaster but without a safety harness. The centrifugal force of it is constantly pulling at you, and all you have is that shiny metal bar across your lap that you’re holding onto for dear life, for to let go would spell ruin. You know it’s a passing thing. You know the ride will end in thirty or forty seconds, but until it does, until it comes to a screeching stop, you hang on.

One of the most destructive lies being repeated from pulpits throughout the denominational panoply is that the Christian walk is an easy, carefree prospect, requiring little or nothing of us as individuals. The Word itself proves these men liars, whether the Old or New Testaments, because to the last, every man of substance that was singled out each had some form of hardship to contend with, some sort of trial to overcome, and some challenge through which they had to persevere and hold fast to the integrity they possessed. Giving up is easy, but it’s not right. Giving up is only an option for those who as yet fail to understand that this is a life-or-death struggle with nothing in between. Either we live for Him, in Him, and through Him, and die to the word, or we live for the world and are dead toward God. No man can serve two masters. Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job XXXV

 There are only so many keys on a piano and only so many ways to make a quiche. Although you can add ingredients to the recipe, the base ingredients remain predictably similar. Although grand compositions can be played on a piano, the base notes never change. It’s the way in which they are arranged and the skill with which they are played that grips one’s attention and that makes a concert either memorable or something soon forgotten.

Although the enemy is quick to add a wrinkle or two when it comes to his attacks on the household of faith, three primary and indispensable ingredients are always included in the mix because they are the most effective by far. There’s the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life. These are the three mainstays the enemy uses as his vehicles of attack, and knowing this, we must do our utmost to guard against them.

While the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes weren’t on the table as far as Job was concerned because he’d already proven he was an upright and blameless man, the pride of life was what the enemy focused on, thinking this would be his way in.

Satan wrongly assumed that since Job was the greatest of all the people of the East, his identity and purpose were wrapped up in his possessions and that he leaned on them rather than God for his peace and joy. If the enemy believes that you draw your strength from anything other than God, he will attack that thing. He will do so repeatedly, mercilessly, and inventively, believing that if the position or possession is brought to ruin, then your faith in God and His goodness will be shaken and shattered.

We’ve all known people who were so wrapped up in a title they held or a possession they’d acquired that when the thing they focused on, sacrificed for, and obsessed over for so long began to crumble under the weight of its own design, they grow bitter toward God, rejecting the way, and hardening their hearts. If your hope is rooted in the fleeting and insubstantial, you have no abiding hope. If what animates you and gives you purpose are the things of this earth, once they are shaken, shattered, and are no more, all you’ll have left is that hollow, empty feeling that becomes a constant companion.

When God is your everything when He alone satisfies the longing of your soul, then come what may, as long as you have Him, cling to Him, and follow Him, you will not be shaken or broken upon the rocks of life.

Tragedy befalls all men. The one choice we have is how we react to it. When I was younger, I sang in a choir and played guitar in church. It was back before the days of the interwebs, where all the information you ever wanted to know about any given subject was just a few clicks away, but I made it a point to research how certain hymns we sang in church had come about and originated.

While Hillsong is the flavor du jour for most today, I still gravitate toward the old hymns that have a message which resonates and that isn’t so vague as to be interchangeable with a love ballad lip-synced by an over-the-hill crooner. I figured there had to be something more than writing out a few verses to songs that, over the years, had been translated into hundreds of languages, Romanian included.

The first song I researched was Amazing Grace, which, it turns out, was written by a formerly foul-mouthed slaver named John Newton, who, once converted, became an abolitionist and preacher.

The second song I spent endless hours discovering the history of was “It is Well With My Soul,” which was penned by a man with a story very similar to Job’s. It was written by a man named Horatio Spafford, a devout Christian who also happened to be a lawyer and businessman. He’d lost most of his real estate holdings in the great Chicago fire, then his four daughters in a shipwreck, and from the depths of his soul, he penned the lyrics to a song that would stand the test of time and be a comfort to many who found themselves traversing the valleys of life.

It is a grace beyond words to have the wherewithal to cling to Jesus in the midst of trial, knowing that while the storms of life will pass, Jesus will remain ever steadfast, faithful, and true.

Just as Paul would verbalize thousands of years later, Job had his priorities well established, and God came first, always, without fail, no matter the circumstance or situation. We have countless testimonies spanning millennia wherein men and women persevered and overcame not because there was something inherently special in their family tree or their upbringing but because they made the conscious decision to steadfastly cling to God no matter what they faced.

Looking at their life stories in the aggregate, one readily concludes that martyrdom might not be so bad after all. I know where I’m going when this journey is done. It is well with my soul, no matter what may come. Do not let fear of tomorrow keep you from worshipping God today or the concerns of this life keep you from cementing your relationship with Him.

There is a permanence in God that stretches beyond this present life into eternity. We squander so much time focusing on the temporal while giving the eternal so little attention when eternity is all that matters.

Where is your treasure? Who is your treasure? The answer to these all-important questions will determine whether your testimony will be one of a conqueror or a cautionary tale of one who has been conquered.

Philippians 3:8, “Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ.”

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job XXXIV

It is unsettling to the mind of flesh to come to terms with the reality that not only does God choose how to respond to His creation, but also chooses when, within what context, and how clearly. Sometimes, God chooses to be silent. More often than not, it’s when He’s already given us clear direction, we didn’t like the directions we were given, and so return to Him with the same question hoping we’ll get a different answer. God didn’t stutter. He is neither double-minded nor duplicitous. He meant what He said, He said what He meant, and it’s incumbent upon us to obey. God’s not one for playing games, and usually, His answers are direct and forthright, without ambiguity or any wiggle room for our minds to interpret something other than what was intended.

When the Word of God says one thing, and men insist it says the opposite, it’s not that the Word itself is ambiguous. It’s that men are attempting to twist it into a pretzel to make it say something it clearly doesn’t. If you’re wondering why men would do such things, then you haven’t been paying attention. Life isn’t an oasis, a paradise, a safe place where we can while away the hours staring at our navels waiting on Christ’s return. It is a warzone rife with infiltrators, deceivers, betrayers, double-dealing faux brethren, and an enemy ever on the prowl.

If you’ve ever wondered how far the church has strayed from the gospel, take a verse deemed controversial by the modern-day church, read it to a six-year-old, and ask them what they think it means. You’re likely to get a more biblically accurate interpretation than you would from some of the clowns pretending to be shepherds who call evil good, darkness light, and bitter sweet.

Their aim is to sow confusion, doubt, and unbelief in the hearts of God’s children, to steer them from the way of truth into the murky shadows where personal opinion supersedes the word of God and where men become defacto gods, following their own way rather than God’s way.

There is purpose in God’s silence, just as there is purpose in God speaking. Especially when we are going through a trial, we would prefer He addresses us sooner rather than later, but our preferences, like our feelings, don’t enter the equation, contrary to what we may have been told by those trying to sell us a course on how to force God’s hand to do our bidding.

Job was not perturbed or deterred by God’s silence because his faith was well-established, and he knew the nature and character of the God he served. Here he sat, covered in boils, upon the ashes of his former life, scratching at himself with a potsherd, and his attitude was not one of self-pity or bitterness at having to endure something he’d concluded was undeserved.

When the knowledge of the God we serve has no depth, when we have not entered a relationship or fellowship with Him but possess only a superficial understanding of His glory, whenever sudden trials come upon us, the feeling that we are being maltreated or abused will inevitably rise to the fore, attempting to sow bitterness and despair.

My grandmother was a strict disciplinarian. While some might have the requisite “Bless This House” or “Joy Lives Here” needlepoint pillows about their homes, if my grandmother had ever gotten into needlepoint, I’m sure her pillow would have had “Spare The Rod, Spoil The Child” as its preeminent message. Even in her later years, when she needed to employ the aid of a walker, she found a way to administer discipline in varied and inventive ways.

Granted, we lived in a small apartment, and few corners were out of reach of her outstretched hands, even from a sitting position on the couch, but however many times she chose the way of the rod, I never doubted that she loved all three of us. Since my brother Daniel is the youngest, I tend to think she preferred him, but even he was not spared her discipline when it was deemed necessary.

God doesn’t stop loving us when He allows us to undergo testing. On the contrary, His correction is proof that we are His and that He considers us sons and daughters. He loves us enough to steer us clear of the pitfalls that would ensure our demise were we to follow through with what the flesh insists we ought. The flesh might resist the idea, but whenever a trial or a test comes upon us, it is intended for maturing and growth.

Proverbs 3:11-12, “My son, do not despise the chastening of the Lord, nor detest His correction; For whom the Lord loves He corrects, just as a father the son in whom he delights.”

If you’re a parent, you know that love as your children as you might, sometimes correction is necessary. It’s love that compels you to use the stern daddy voice, as my little one likes to call it, whenever you see them doing something you know will end in a bruise, a cut, or something much worse.

To them, climbing things that shouldn’t be climbed and jumping off is all in good fun—until it isn’t. The tile floor they’re about to belly flop on is unmerciful in its consistency, and rather than have to rush to urgent care to cast a leg or splint a finger, I step in as a loving father and end the festivities before mirth turns into tears. Those of you who have sons rather than daughters are likely rolling your eyes, thinking I don’t know the half of it, but I, too, was young once, with two little brothers, so I do know. My brother Sergiu still has a scar on his foot from when we played chicken with lawn darts. He didn’t move; a pyrrhic victory, indeed.

God never stops being a loving father, even when He chastens and corrects us. As wise children, we must never stop seeing Him as a good and loving father. I keep returning to this point because it is of paramount importance: Job never once, throughout his entire ordeal, doubted the character of the God he served. Had he done so, it would have unraveled in real-time, and he likely would have taken his wife’s advice to heart and done the unthinkable.  

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job XXXIII

 Any objective observer of God’s Word can’t help but point out its interconnected consistency, something so profoundly difficult to pull off that the reality of its interwoven message and clearly emphasized main themes spanning thousands of years gave them reason for pause, introspection, and acknowledgment that there was something more to it than human happenstance or a happy accident. They acknowledged the unseen hand of God throughout the entirety of the Bible, bringing some, even grudgingly, to the conclusion that divine input was evident.

It’s not the only time we see the enemy using a person to try and steer someone’s heart or convince them to do something other than the will of God, most notably, Peter, whom the enemy used to try and sway Jesus from the reality that He would suffer many things, be killed, and be raised on the third day.

Within the span of one conversation, Jesus went from telling Peter that he would be the rock upon which He would build His church to rebuking him in the harshest manner Jesus had ever rebuked anyone.

Matthew 16:21-23, “From that time Jesus began to show to His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised the third day. Then Peter took Him aside and began to rebuke Him, saying, “Far be it from You, Lord; this shall not happen to You!” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind Me, Satan! You are an offense to Me, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men.”’

One could argue that Peter’s denunciation of what Jesus said came from a good place. He didn’t want to see Jesus, His Lord, suffer and die. Even so, Jesus knew that the enemy was trying to use Peter in the moment to diminish His resolve. Yes, sometimes well-intentioned people can give horrible advice because the way they see a situation unfolding and its purposes are different from how God sees it.

The same cannot be said of Job’s wife, even in the best possible light. Perhaps there’s a chance she did not want him to suffer needlessly or thought his pain too much for him to bear, but her solution was that he should curse God and die.

Even at this juncture, I would give her the benefit of the doubt if not for her questioning his integrity being intact. It is clear the enemy was using her as an agent of doubt, attempting to shake his resolve and have Job throw in the towel.

It is our duty to take every thought captive and filter it through the lens of God's will and Word. The ways of God are always counterintuitive to the ways of the flesh, and if we fall into the snare of seeing a situation, an event, a trial, or a hardship through the prism of flesh, we will kick against the goads and resist them.

Whether one calls it a snowball effect or a domino effect, once we give in to seeing our circumstances through the eyes of flesh rather than spiritual eyes, one decision in the flesh will lead to another, and the effects will compound exponentially. Whenever I counsel someone who has strayed from the path, it is inevitable that I hear some version of “I don’t know how I got here” as they work through the choices they made to bring them to the place they find themselves in.

One wrong decision turned into two, two turned into five, and before they knew it, they were unmoored, beaten to and fro by the waves of life, with no obvious means of relief for their predicament.

Even after all he’d endured, Satan still held out hope that he could get Job to grow bitter against the God he served to the point of cursing Him. Holding fast to one’s integrity is a choice. Especially when from the outside looking in, there is no reason for it. Had Job not known God on a fundamental level, had he not built up a relationship with Him to the point of trusting Him without fail in every area of his life, the worm of doubt would surely have found a way in.

If Job’s faith in God were tethered and dependent upon the things he possessed or, by this time, his own physical health, he would have had no viable reason for continuing in his faithfulness. Establishing why we serve God and ensuring it’s not because of any reason other than His presence in our lives is paramount and often the deciding factor as to whether or not someone will remain faithful in the midst of trial.

If my serving God were predicated upon material things, once those material things dry up and go away, then so does my commitment and willingness to serve Him. If, however, I serve Him because He has redeemed my life from destruction and His presence is all I desire, forfeiting all else for the knowledge of Him, then whatever may come, however cumbersome the travails of life, I will hold fast to my integrity.

There is a reason the Word instructs us to be wise about where we build our spiritual house. There are only two choices. Either we build our spiritual house upon the rock, ensuring that it will weather any storm and remain standing once the storm passes, or we build it upon the sand, which, although easier to do and requiring less effort and exertion, will likely result in our spiritual house being swept away.

A wise man prioritizes the spirit over the flesh and commits himself to building a spiritual house well-established in the truth of God’s word. A foolish man is indifferent toward his spiritual man’s well-being, haphazardly building upon the sand because his end goal isn’t to know Him and the power of His resurrection but to see himself as spiritual, hoping to get some discount fire insurance in the process. 

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.