Job XXVI

 Anyone who claims to have been in God’s presence without showing the requisite reverence is lying through their teeth about their alleged experience. Yes, I could have been nicer in my wording, but at some point, we have to be grown-ups and understand that sometimes harsh words must be spoken in order to avoid calamity in the future.

Perhaps it’s because we roll our eyes and brush off such claims and don’t confront them outright that those making them feel emboldened to continue in their foolishness. With each retelling, it gets more grandiose, and those given to believing fables stand in awe and astonishment of foolish people making foolish claims as though what they imagined in their fevered burrito dream actually had some basis in fact.

You’re telling me your heart went pitter-patter more profusely when you saw some aging musician strolling through the airport than when you stood in the presence of God? Meeting some D-list actor or some semi-famous individual gave you the goosebumps more than sitting on God’s lap, as you claim? Got it. Thanks. I think I’ll pass.   

Isaiah had a vision of God in His majesty, and a vision was all it took for him to declare that he was a man undone. If the presence of God does not reveal our own shortfalls and shortcomings, if His righteousness does not compel us to see our own unrighteousness more clearly, then we should be skeptical of the entire experience.

Brother Mike, that sounds a bit harsh. Are you saying? Yes, I am. An increasing number of people are trying to bolster their own authority by claiming to have seen God face-to-face, and the absence of reverence, awe, and veneration is the first clue that they are lying. You’re not on par with God, no matter how much of your donor’s money you spent on lip fillers and Botox injections.

Man’s reaction to glimpsing an image of the glory of God can be nothing less than reality-shattering. You can’t help but be humbled to the point of being undone. Isaiah had been a prophet of the Lord and had received prophetic words before his vision of God’s glory. It was not as though he’d been anything less than a servant of God before that experience, yet here he was declaring he was a man of unclean lips. His righteousness, no matter how close to the mark, was as dross when compared to God’s glory, and he was humble enough to understand this.

Likewise, Job knew the God he served. He knew of His majesty and accepted His lordship over his life, and as such, with all that befell him, he neither sinned nor charged God with wrong. If you hang around church folk long enough, you’re bound to hear someone say that God has wronged them. When you ask how so, the answer usually revolves around them not getting something they really wanted, whether a promotion, a new car, or straight teeth. You juxtapose this mindset with what Job lost while still maintaining his blamelessness and not charging God with wrongdoing, and you realize we have a long way to go in both understanding the nature of God, the dynamics of our relationship with Him, and the type of servanthood required for God to see us as blameless and upright.

Job didn’t go to seminary; he didn’t have a doctorate in hermeneutics, yet he possessed the existential realization that we end as we begin. Naked, we come from our mother’s womb, and naked, we return there, some sooner, some later. Knowing that our end will be as our beginning, the only thing that should matter is the eternity that follows. Do we know God? Do we serve God? Have we been born again and washed clean by the blood of Christ that we may be where He is?

The evil day is just that. It is a season, temporary, passing, and with an established expiration date. Eternity is forever, beyond our minds to comprehend, yet so many choose to focus on the fleeting and passing things of this earth while ignoring the reality of time without end once they are gone. Existence transcends this present life, and we would do well to remember this reality, for with each passing day, we are that much closer to it.  

Job was a man whose priorities were well-established and hierarchically correct. God first. His will first. His lordship first. Then everything else. If everything was taken, it was the Lord’s to take, for He was the one who gave, and even in the midst of heartbreak, disaster, tragedy, mourning, and loss, blessed be the name of the Lord.

Oh, to have such a faith, such a clarity of purpose as to look upon the ashes of the life we’ve built and still glory in the God we serve. To look upon the devastation of having everything snatched away and not only keep from sinning but worshipping God in the midst of it.

Blessings are always easier to accept than testing. As those who understand the sovereignty of God, however, we must thank God for the testing just as readily as we do for the blessing. Granted, it’s easier said than done, and oftentimes, in the midst of the testing, the last thing on our minds is to come before God with thankful hearts, but we must nevertheless do so because even in the seasons of sorrow that come upon us His love and goodness are ever-present.

We don’t always understand why some hardship or tragedy befalls us, but we can always trust that God does. Knowing He is a good Father gives us the strength to carry on, persevere, endure, and continue to worship Him in spirit and truth.

Job exalted God in the midst of his trial, and from the outside looking in, one could rightly conclude that he’d lost the thread. The world will never understand how you can have joy in the midst of sorrow or peace in the midst of tumult because they do not know the God you serve. Therefore, their ability to understand your reaction to suffering is nonexistent. They will likely deem you mad with grief upon seeing you worshipping God in your trial, but you know something they never will unless they, too, come to the saving knowledge of Christ: life is but a flicker, a breath, a drop of water in a raging sea, then comes eternity. 

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job XXV

 As with most other things nowadays, people have come up with new and inventive ways to complicate worship. We have replaced desire and a hunger for God with contrived and formulaic catchphrases that do nothing to soothe the heart or feed the soul. I wonder how many would have stood in judgment of Job at seeing him tear his robe, shave his head, and fall on the ground and worship God? That seems a bit overly dramatic, the whole robe tearing thing and then falling to the ground. Really? He couldn’t have been more demure about it? He’s scaring the old ladies or the young children with his antics. Yes, it’s a horrible thing that happened to him, but that doesn’t negate the need for matters. Matters maketh man, after all, and he should know better.

Then you’d have those who weren’t so much bothered by his falling on the ground but by his putting the emphasis on the wrong syllable when he spoke the name of God. No wonder God does not hear the cry of his heart; he’s not addressing Him by His proper name.

Rather than weep with those who weep, nowadays, we tend to pour salt on the wound and watch those who are bruised, broken, hurting, and wounded as they traverse their valleys, judging their composure in the midst of trial. Perhaps it makes us feel spiritually superior, or we like the idea of playing god, but whatever the reason, we are quick to point out how they should be grieving instead of being a healing balm in the midst of their grief.

It’s not that they didn’t run to God, cling to Him, cry out to Him in their suffering; it’s the way they did it that bothers us, and we are quick to point it out at the most inappropriate of times, insisting that had they taken the course on the proper way to groan before the Almighty, then perhaps their situation wouldn’t have gotten as bad as it did.

Well, you know, brother, God doesn’t respond to our pleas when we address Him as God. Says who? Is He so petty as to turn a deaf ear to His children if they fail to address Him in a specific manner?

I’ve seen this sort of mind-numbing attitude one too many times, and it extends to those who, with sincerity of heart and a true desire to know more of God, get overwhelmed by those insisting upon tertiary issues that have no bearing on spiritual growth. We love to insert personal opinions in the lives of others, insisting that it’s more than what it is, then take no responsibility or accountability for the damage we cause when the individual in question goes in search of extra-biblical experiences rather than humbly remaining at the foot of the cross.

We’ve stopped teaching the sufficiency of Christ and have taken to teaching Christ, plus some other thing. Christ revealed Himself both as sufficient and singular. In Him, we find the truth, the way, and the life without needing to add any other tradition, ritual, ceremony, or formality.    

When your heart is crushed, when you’re overwhelmed, when you can barely keep from being dragged beneath the waves, every piece of fluff, every contrivance, every estimation of our own strength and prowess go out the window, and the only thing we have left is God.

It won’t matter if you’re standing, kneeling, bowing, genuflecting, or falling on the ground, and the last thing on your mind will be what others think of the way you’re crying out to God. There have been times in prayer meetings when the presence of God utterly wrecked me. I’d be on my knees, balling my eyes out, snot hanging off the tip of my nose, and the last thing on my mind was if anyone was watching or noticing or what they thought of a fully grown man balling like a baby.

When you enter into the presence of God, when you are in true worship, self-consciousness ceases to be an issue, as does one’s need to put their best foot forward or project some air of spirituality. True worship is not performative. It’s not about clapping along with the rhythm of a song or reading a prayer off a teleprompter; it’s about pouring out your heart to the God who promised to be a comfort and a present help in times of trouble.

Many today have never felt the true, tangible, undeniable presence of God because they refuse to humble themselves and be vulnerable in His presence. Intimacy with God demands vulnerability. When you cry out for God to search your heart, you must be prepared to have Him search all of it—not just the space you cleaned up and made nice, not just the living room you recently vacuumed, but the basement and the attic, the alcoves where there may still be spider webs and creepy crawly things.

When you ask for a heart inspection, you must be prepared to make the necessary changes when the report comes in. If there are things you need to fix, God will tell you, but then it’s up to you as an individual to follow through and excise the things standing in the way of your spiritual maturation. We ask God to search our hearts to see if there is any wicked way in us, then proceed to lead us in the way everlasting. If we’ve already determined that we’re not willing to change anything, that we’re not willing to surrender what may be required of us to surrender, that we’re not willing to follow where He leads us, why go through the motions of asking God to search our hearts? Change, transformation, sanctification, and the pruning of things and practices contrary to the spiritual man are not merely suggestions but indispensable necessities for spiritual growth.

True worship does not demand ritualistic rigidity; it demands a contrite heart. It’s about the condition of our hearts, not about formalities. True worship is a sacrifice well pleasing in the sight of God, and as individuals, we choose to either worship Him or go through the motions and feign worship that does not translate into a well-pleasing sacrifice.

Psalm 51:17, “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart – These, O God, You will not despise.”

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job XXIV

 If Job had felt unduly entitled or had unrealistic expectations of God in exchange for being a blameless and upright man, he likely would have charged God with wrong at seeing everything in his life turn to rubble and ash. Thankfully, Job wasn’t a blameless and upright man because he thought it might cause him to prosper or become wealthy; he was blameless and upright because he desired to be pleasing in the sight of the Lord. People do the right thing for the wrong reasons all the time, and it's why the intent and attitude of the heart are so important.

I’ve seen people go on ten-day fasts hoping to change God’s mind on something He was clear and explicit about. Fasting is all well and good, but you’re doing it in order to twist God’s arm into doing something He already said He wasn’t going to. When it turns out that missing a few meals did nothing to convince God that He should go against His Word just to appease you, the feigned worship turns to anger and deep-rooted bitterness because you did the thing. You fasted, and He didn’t notice. You even fasted through the Friday fish fry, and other than a few hunger pangs, you’ve got nothing to show for it.

Both Cain and Abel brought sacrifices before the Lord. One was accepted, the other was rejected, and it had little to do with the sacrifice itself and everything to do with the attitude and condition of each man’s heart. While one brought the best he had, in faith, with a pure heart and pure intentions, the other did so out of a sense of obligation, perhaps grudgingly and out of duty rather than genuine gratitude and love for God.

If I’m serving God in the hopes of winning the lottery or finding buried treasure in my backyard, the action itself is noble enough—after all, I am serving God—but the intent behind the action is neither pure nor noble. My motives and motivation aren’t right, and so when I don’t find the treasure or win the lottery, when I don’t get what I expect, and I’m not rubbing elbows with the elites on Martha’s Vineyard talking about how scary it was when a handful of the much-praised migrants were dropped off in our town square, I will cease serving Him and grow bitter toward Him to boot.

Doesn’t He know how loyal I would have been had I hit the billion-dollar jackpot? I would have been so generous and philanthropic had He given me a chance. Doesn’t He know how much good I could have done with that kind of wealth? Doesn’t He know how many souls I would have reached? And the more you listen to such individuals, the more you realize that it was never about God but always about them. God was used as a foil for their vanity and pride because, had such individuals come out and said what they really thought of themselves and how indispensable they are in their own eyes, it would leave a sour taste in the mouths of anyone within earshot. Self-importance is easy to spot when you know what to look for.

Self-important people aren’t nearly as important in God’s eyes as they think themselves to be. God resists the proud and gives grace to the humble. It is God who declared it so, and any man who seeks to esteem himself, his station, his abilities, aptitudes, or gifts is already being actively resisted by God.

Job didn’t believe himself to be the center of the universe; he did not think the world revolved around his wants or that God was there to do his bidding. His attitude toward God was that of a servant, and as such, he understood that, at best, he was a caretaker of whatever he’d been given. It all belonged to God, and if God chose to take it away, He was within His right to do so.

Had Job been a proponent of the prosperity doctrine, the least we could have expected of him was to decry how unfair God had been in allowing such things to befall him. From the outside looking in, if anyone was ever within their rights to throw the biggest pity party known to man, it was Job. He could have pointed to his faithfulness, to his tireless bringing of sacrifice before the Lord, to his being upright and blameless, but instead, he blessed the name of the Lord and neither sinned nor charged God with doing wrong.

Not that I would wish it upon them, but a few well-known modern-day names come to mind when I ponder how some men would react to Satan’s speed and savagery at decimating Job’s children and worldly possessions. They, too, would likely tear their robes and fall on the ground, but worship would be the last thing on their minds. They would be too busy trying to convince God why there must have been some miscommunication in heaven, how someone had gotten it wrong, and horribly so, because they’d called money down from heaven, exerted themselves, built their gaudy kingdoms, and had done so while claiming to be serving Him. Surely, that had to have counted for something.

Purity of heart and purity of purpose are paramount. You may not see it currently or understand it momentarily, but serving God for the right reasons, in spirit, and in truth, loving Him for what He has already done in sending Christ to die that we might live, and not for what we hope to gain in the material, is vital beyond my ability to verbalize.

The day is coming and will soon be upon us when many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another because their expectations of what this life should be and the reality of what it has become will be as different as day is from night. What they were told, and what they came to believe being a servant of God meant, and what it actually is, will turn out to be very different indeed.

In all that he endured, Job did not sin. He did not shake his fists at the heavens, he did not resent God in his heart, he didn’t grow bitter and disillusioned, nor did he attempt to convince God how undeserving he was of this monumental trial.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job XXIII

 By definition, an enemy cannot be your friend. Whatever an enemy offers you, however pleasing to the eye, know with certainty that it is poison, something that will weaken if not outright kill you because even though he pretends to be empathetic to your situation or seems as though he’s had a change of heart, he isn’t, and he hasn’t.

The modern-day church doesn’t give the devil enough credit, and this is largely the reason so many find themselves in sinking sand rather than a sure foundation, not knowing how they got to where they are, yearning for the freedom they once took for granted. The devil is cunning. He is a tactician of the highest order, and when he allowed for one of Job’s servants to survive each calamity, it wasn’t because he was being nice or genteel. Their survival served to aid Satan in his purpose of breaking Job. Job needed to know what was happening in real time so that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to recover from the last catastrophe. As far as plans go, it was well thought out and brilliantly executed.

The only thing Satan didn’t figure into the equation was Job’s steadfastness and faithfulness. He was a man who had become superior to pleasure and, as such, had likewise become superior to pain. When God is your everything, there is nothing the enemy can do to shake you from your foundation. It doesn’t mean he won’t try; it means he won’t succeed.

Whether it’s in the form of pleasure or pain, the devil’s purpose is the same. Sadly, many today give in to the pleasure before the pain can ensue because it’s more convenient and beneficial for the devil to tempt someone away from the truth with pleasure than it is through suffering. He can wring more shame and embarrassment out of someone falling into temptation than he can from someone despondent over the pain that has been visited upon them.

You’re more likely to hear of pastors, preachers, and evangelists who fell into sin than you are of ministers who stepped away from ministry because of some tragedy that befell them.

My grandmother’s passing was hard on my grandfather. It was the only time in my life that I saw the light go out of his eyes. I witnessed the same thing with my father when my mother passed. It wasn’t easy, but it was a season they had to battle through, and nothing could alleviate the pain of their loss except for spending time in the presence of God.

As most Eastern European families are wont to do, we were close. The seven of us lived in a two-bedroom apartment for the better part of thirteen years, and when seven turned into six, the loss was monumental and evident. By the time my mother went to her reward, half of us were living in the States and half in Romania, so the constant reminder of loss wasn’t so vivid, but still, it is inevitable that we feel loss when a loved one is no more. Even so, we do not sorrow as those who have no hope. We know that one day, we will be reunited with those who sleep in Jesus, and if our day comes that we return to the earth before His return, those who will mourn us will do so with the same hope.  

The overarching hope of salvation and the promises of God must be an ever-present reality in our hearts and minds, no matter the valley we must presently traverse. It is faith in Him and nothing else that will see us through, perhaps scarred and wounded, but whole and with our conviction that God is good fully intact.

Positivity, witticisms, mantras, slogans, platitudes, and catchphrases will fail you when the pain gets unbearable. The comfort that the presence of God brings never will. It is the reason that throughout the ages, those who knew God only desired more of Him. He is not some side dish we can pay the extra dollar for if we are so inclined. He is the main course, the one thing without which nothing in life would make sense.

Job didn’t have a church family to lean on, he didn’t have a counselor he could pour his heart out to, he didn’t have the modern conveniences we take for granted in that he could pick up a telephone and call a friend. All Job had was God, and God was enough.

Millennia later, God is still enough. He is unchanging in His power, He is unchanging in His attributes, He is unchanging in His promises, and He is unchanging in His love for His creation. This unchanging nature of God provides us with a sense of security and reassurance in our faith, knowing that we serve a God who is consistent and reliable.

Satan had wrongly assumed that Job’s relationship with God was superficial. He wrongly assumed that Job served God because God blessed the work of His hands, not out of a genuine desire to know Him. Upon hearing of the multiple tragedies that had befallen him, Job’s response was direct and unwavering: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

No more needed to be said. There was no need for Job to elaborate. Two sentences encapsulated Job’s most fundamental conviction that God was sovereign over all, and whether He gave or He took, His name is to be blessed. How many people walking about today, beating their chests, and insisting they are prophets to the nations and the apple of God’s eye would have the same reaction given the same circumstances Job faced?

That is the hard question with which we must all contend as individuals: Will we serve God as faithfully and unwaveringly if everything we’ve come to take for granted in this life were snatched away in an instant? Our answer will be contingent on whether our relationship with Him is deep, profound, and all-consuming or merely a superficial thing we wouldn’t miss were it to go away.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job XXII

 Among the household responsibilities my wife and I divide among ourselves, picking up the girls from school is high on the list. Sometimes one has an after-school activity such as volleyball, so the other must be picked up early, or my wife has an afternoon meeting and I have to pick up both, but communication being the key to a healthy relationship, we figure out who’s picking up whom that morning over breakfast and, as yet, no child has had to have the front office call one of us reminding us to come pick them up.

We make it work. We have to. We’re parents responsible for two pre-teen girls who have more of a social calendar than we did combined as adults, but I guess that’s just the way of things nowadays, with extracurricular activities, sports, music class, adventure club, Bible study, and a handful of other things that make us feel like an odd combination of chauffer and indentured servant.

Whenever it’s my turn to pick them up, the conversation goes the same way. I ask them how their day went, and they regale me with stories, whether of making a new friend, doing well on a test, learning a new fun fact, or not liking what mom packed them for lunch since it contained the dreaded green stuff. She knows I never eat the broccoli, but she still packs it, to which I answer, because she loves you. Not everything they share with me is positive. They don’t hold back on discussing bad experiences, whether it’s the naughty boy in class pulling their hair or not having made any new friends this year.

I’ve often said that fatherhood helps you understand the heart of God better than any seminary course on the attributes of God ever will. It’s hands-on, and you’re emotionally invested. It’s your child that comes to you with a smile on their face or tears in their eyes. It’s your child who needs an encouraging word, a high five, or a long, heartfelt hug. God’s not a stranger. He is our Father who is in heaven, and whether it’s to share our joy or our sorrow, we run to Him, always, every time, without fail.

Whenever either of my daughters approaches me, they know I will take the time to listen. I will not reject them, ignore them, tell them to come back later because I’m busy doing something else, or act aloof or indifferent. I love them. They are mine to protect, provide for, teach, instruct, see myself in, and yes, sometimes correct.

One of the most frequent discussions I have with my wife is whether we’re making life too easy for our girls. We are each other’s accountability partners in this area because I grew up poor, and my instinct is always to spoil them. All the while, I know that if they grow up thinking life is easy and there will be no hurdles to overcome, I’m not doing them any favors. I know what it’s like to walk into a store, want something, and have your mother tell you we can’t afford it. I still remember the look in my mom’s eyes whenever such situations came about, and I learned to ask less frequently because of the evident pain in her countenance whenever she’d have to deny a request.

Conversely, growing up the way we did made me more resilient. It taught me the value of a dollar and the importance of not shying away from hard work. These are good virtues that I want my daughters to possess, and if it means saying new to a new pack of gum until the last one we bought is done, even though wintergreen isn’t their favorite flavor, so be it.

Job knew God as Father and knew he would not be turned away. He knew that God's presence was the only place he could be, where he could pour out his heart, cry out, and verbalize his pain, and that God would listen.

As any good Father would be, God is involved and invested in the lives of His children. He desires to see Himself in us, and although momentarily it would seem loving if He let us have all the cotton candy our hearts desire, He knows that eventually, the stomach ache that would ensue would be more harmful by far. I’ve seen spoiled children who pitch a fit and roll on the floor in the middle of a supermarket, and it’s not something I want to see in my own daughters. I’ve seen toddlers bunch up their little fists and strike out at their mothers for denying them their third Kit Kat bar or scream like their hair was on fire because the adult chose to put back the mountain of stuffies they’d thrown into the shopping cart.

God has a reason and purpose for allowing trials and testing in our lives; whenever such things happen, we trust in His goodness and providence. We know He is good, we know He is loving, and we know that our temporary affliction is creating an eternal weight of glory in us.

If Job had known God as a cruel taskmaster, one absent love and affection, his first instinct would not have been to run to Him in worship. The most important knowledge one must possess amid trial is the character of the God they serve. We cannot separate the love and goodness of God from the trials of life. He does not cease being good or loving when He allows hardship to buffet us. There is a purpose in it, perhaps, momentarily out of the reach of our limited understanding, and knowing this, we press into Him all the more.

God tests your strengths. The devil focuses on your weaknesses. There is a difference in approach as well as the intended goal. While God’s testing is meant to strengthen you, solidify you, teach you to trust Him and walk in greater faith, Satan’s attacks are intended to weaken, cripple, and destroy you. It’s the difference between holding on to the bicycle seat as your daughter is learning to ride a two-wheeler for the first time, jogging alongside, ready to catch them if they fall, or kicking the bike out from under them, hoping they get a concussion in the process. In either case, the child will exhibit fear and anxiousness, as they are trying to do something they’ve never done before, the bike wobbling, and their reaction uncertain, but one is intended to grow them and teach them something while the other is needlessly cruel and hurtful. Know the difference and react accordingly.

James 1:2-4, “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.”

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Job XXI

 A man’s true character is revealed not in his time of plenty but in his time of lack. One can readily pretend at being virtuous and noble when it costs them nothing, but things change, and the mask slips off when you go from hurt to hurt to more hurt and you weren’t truly anchored in Christ but just pretending to be.

It’s in moments of dread and despair that one’s nobility, virtue, and integrity shine through all the brighter if they possessed them to begin with. Your circumstances do not dictate your uprightness or blamelessness. The situation you find yourself in on any given day does not dictate your virtue or integrity. If all it takes for you to give in to despair is a change in tax brackets or the loss of something you attached value to, then your spiritual house was not built upon the rock but upon shifting sand.

1 Corinthians 3:12-13, “Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each one’s work will become clear; for the Day will declare it because it will be revealed by fire; and the fire will test each one’s work, of what sort it is.”

Upon hearing that all he had, including his children, were no more, Job’s first reaction wasn’t to try and get what he could back or salvage what little, if anything, remained. He didn’t run to his Rolodex to find a crisis management firm or contact the attorney he had on retainer. He didn’t try to find someone to blame, shake his fists at the heavens, punish the servants who brought him the bad news, or shut himself away from everyone. He arose, tore his robe, shaved his head, fell on the ground, and worshipped. He ran to God first. His instinct wasn’t to try and staunch the bleeding or mitigate the loss; it was to go before God and be in His presence.

What is your first reaction upon getting devastating news? What is your first impulse when you hear something that makes you stop dead in your tracks and instantly changes the course of your life? Is it to try and find answers, to understand the why, to insist you didn’t deserve this happening to you, to get angry, deny it, or is it to run to God, knowing He is the only place where you will find peace and comfort?

When tragedy strikes, the only thing we have complete control over is how we react to it. We can’t turn back time and undo what has been done. Time machines exist in novels and movies but not in real life, so spending days on end wondering what we could have done differently is a wasted effort on our part. In hindsight, everyone’s a genius who would have invested in Amazon when it was two bucks or Tesla when it was a buck and change. We would have been able to identify disruptive technologies like Uber and live on easy street next to a televangelist or his ex-wife, but one shot is all you get at this life, and there are no redos.

Eternity’s a long time to get something as important as eternity wrong. It’s why I involuntarily cringe when I hear someone half my age going on about only living once, not understanding what that really means. It’s not a license to act the fool; it’s an impetus to be sober and make the choices that will lend themselves to an eternity in God’s presence and not the outer darkness.

Had Job’s hope been tethered in anything other than God, his reaction would have been markedly different than what it was. It wasn’t that Job didn’t feel loss or sorrow; he tore his robe and shaved his head, but then he worshiped. Here was a man at the end of his tether, with Satan having done the worst his wicked mind could conceive, having planned the escalation of the destruction and catastrophe as though directing a symphony, and broken, humbled, grieving, shattered, Job worshiped God.

That single tableau, that moment in time, that frame of a man to whom four servants brought worse and worse news, including the death of his ten children, having shaved his head and torn his robe rather than shaking his fists at the heavens, or wailing, inconsolable and broken, worshiped is both humbling and revelatory.

What would it take for you to keep from worshiping God? We find excuses every other day to spend as little time in His presence as possible, and we’re not dealing with the loss of all things material and the death of ten children. It is something to ponder next time we feel too tired at the end of the day to spend time in His presence or are in too much of a rush to get to where we’re going to take a breath and show God gratitude and thankfulness.

Before you think I’m scolding you or I’m sitting perched atop my high horse, I’m as guilty as anyone of not making more time for God than I do. I have my morning routine ironed out well enough. I get a solid two to three hours before the girls wake up and the house comes alive that I can read the Word, meditate upon it, and spend time in prayer, but it seems as though the smallest distraction derails my good intentions, and rather than a full three hours I get maybe a solid two of unadulterated, uninterrupted time with God. It’s little things, too, like the coffee maker not working and having to drive to the local gas station for a cup or the phone blinking telling me a new message came through during the night; distractions are everywhere, and the older I get, the more I learn to tune them out.

Distractions are not innocuous or accidental. They are intentional and purposeful, seeking to keep you from pressing in and spending time with God. The enemy knows that the less time we spend with God, the less likely we are to be strengthened, equipped, encouraged, and edified. He is hoping that one failure to spend time with God turns into two, two turns into three, and then eventually that it becomes a pattern wherein we are always finding reasons not to worship, not to be in His presence, and not to commune with Him.

On his best day, Job worshiped the Lord. On his worst day, Job worshiped the Lord. Every day in between his best day and his worst day, Job likewise worshiped the Lord because God was the desire of Job’s heart, and his circumstances, his environment, his excess, or his lack held no sway and had no bearing on the singular object of his desire. 

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.  

Job XX

 The last servant came in with the worst news because that’s usually the coup de gras or the death blow to one’s constitution if there is a chance that they might bend and break. You soften them up with a few punches to the mid-drift, then go for the uppercut, right cross, or haymaker straight to the jaw while they’re trying to catch their breath from having just had their ribs bruised.

You save the best or worst for last, depending on which side of the coin you’re on, and you hold nothing back. This should have been Satan’s crowning achievement, his moment to gloat and insist that he was right after all, but it was not to be.

Oxen, donkeys, sheep, and camels could be replaced, but the last messenger to rush in brought news of Job’s children, who were all gathered in their oldest brother’s house drinking wine when a great wind came from across the wilderness and struck the four corners of the house, killing all of them. As was the case the previous three times, one solitary servant escaped to bring the bad news to Job.

Throughout my life, I’ve noticed that whenever there’s bad news, there’s always someone to deliver it. Some even do it with glee, as though delivering some bit of devastating news to you sets the world aright and confirms their suspicions that if there was justice in the world, something bad needed to happen to you. Just as God has His messengers, Satan has his messengers too. Although I don’t believe that the servants who survived and came to tell Job of his misfortune were knowingly doing the devil’s bidding, for whatever reason, some within the church today are.

Not every messenger is of God, nor is every messenger who claims to have been sent by God. This is a crucial conversation worth having within the household of faith because many go without being sent, and many give a word without having had a word given to them. It’s in our hands to discern the true messengers from the false ones.

It’s easy enough to know which is which if our hearts are not clouded by the desire for experience rather than relationship. Many ignore the clear alarm bells going off when such a messenger come through with the promise of a personal prophecy for everyone and their grandma, a practice that often leads to vague or self-fulfilling predictions, or healing services wherein no one is left untouched, a spectacle that can be more about showmanship than genuine spiritual healing, because the appeal drowns out the alarms.

First, I cannot guarantee something I am not entirely in control of. Prophecy comes from God via the Holy Spirit. Unless one claims to be the Almighty themselves, they cannot guarantee a word from the Lord for everyone present, the same way I can’t pick a restaurant at random and promise everyone a free meal if they show up. It’s not my restaurant. I made no prior arrangements with the owner, yet I take it upon myself to promise everyone a pancake breakfast if they come in on a given day at a specific time.

Who wouldn’t want a free breakfast? Anyone would, but they’re not mine to give out. The same principle applies to those who insist that everyone gets a personal word of prophecy if they come to the local Holiday Inn on a random Wednesday. No man can promise to give you something that is not theirs to give. Whether that’s prophecy or healing, it is God who chooses when and if, and not man.

Another telltale sign is when the man esteems himself and points to himself rather than the One who supposedly sent him, making himself indispensable in the eyes of those he is addressing. Messengers are servants in service to their Master. Their duty is not to draw glory to themselves but to give glory to the One who sent them if they were truly sent by Him.

If I’m constantly trying to draw attention to myself, my accomplishments, and my ministry while downplaying Christ as the singular way, truth, and life, then I’m doing Him a disservice, and my motives are something other than bringing glory to His name. A testimony is not about what I did as an individual but what God did through me. A vessel is a vessel. It is there to be used at the Master’s discretion and can take no glory for being used no matter how frequently or in what manner.

I’ve gotten into the habit of picking up a hat or a coffee cup whenever we travel somewhere as a family. It’s my way of remembering the places we’ve visited, and although we have a shelf in the house filled to the brim with coffee mugs of all shapes and sizes, there is still one mug I use more often than any of the others because I like the way it fits in my hand, and it’s big enough to accommodate the amount of coffee I drink on a given morning.

The mug I prefer is no better than the rest that are sitting on the shelf gathering dust; I just prefer it. As long as it remains intact and doesn’t crack or start leaking, I will likely continue to use it, but that in no way makes it worthy of any particular praise or reverence. When a vessel insists that they are deserving of high honor for being a vessel, that’s when you back away slowly and find the nearest exit.

Job understood the dynamics of his relationship with God. Just as he had servants who were beholden to him, he was a servant beholden to God. Had he seen himself as something other than a servant, his reaction to the things he’d been told had taken place in quick succession would have been different than it was.

Job 1:20-22, “Then Job arose, tore his robe, and shaved his head; and he fell on the ground and worshiped. And he said: ‘Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord.’ In all this Job did not sin nor charge God with wrong.”

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.