Job CCXC

 Job 30:24-31, “Surely He would not stretch out His hand against a heap of ruins, if they cry out when He destroys it. Have I not wept for him who was in trouble? Has not my soul grieved for the poor? But when I looked for good, evil came to me; and when I waited for light, then came darkness. My heart is in turmoil and cannot rest; days of affliction confront me. I go about mourning, but not in the sun; I stand in the assembly and cry out for help. I am a brother of jackals, and a companion of ostriches. My skin grows black and falls from me; my bones burn with fever. My harp is turned to mourning, and my flute to the voice of those who weep.”

Transient comfort is a small price to pay for eternal glory. I realize it sounds simplistic, and there are likely a handful who read the previous sentence and immediately roll their eyes, thinking to themselves that I can’t possibly know what they’re going through and so I could not by all rights make the judgment that I did, and to that I say, I may not know your struggle, but I do know, if in broad outline, what eternal glory will be like, and that should suffice.

What do I mean by that? We know the worth of heaven is priceless and inestimable. We likewise know that, as the old hymn goes, when we all get to heaven, it will be a day of rejoicing. That day, however, will not be a day, but an eternity in His presence, beholding His glory. There, tears will be no more, pain will be no more, loss, separation, injustice, hatred, betrayal, mockery, and loneliness will cease to exist. When compared to the blink of an eye that is this existence, can anything we might endure while here outweigh what awaits us there?

We cannot allow the present to blur the reality of what awaits. We cannot allow the now to blind us to the reality that Jesus went to prepare a place for us, so that where He is, we might also be. This present life is transient, temporary, fleeting, and finite. As Job said, there is a house appointed for all the living, and there is nothing the living can do to avoid it. It’s what comes after that should concern us more than what is presently, because the after is for all eternity, while the present is for but a breath.

Revelation 21:1-4, “Now I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. Also there was no more sea. Then, I, John, saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, ‘Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.’”

Although Job had been millennia removed from the writing of the book of Revelation, he had unflinchingly declared that one day he would see His redeemer face to face. Amid the pain, the struggle, the loss, the mockery, the edges of that reality had begun to blur in Job’s mind. It had not disappeared, it had not abandoned him, but it was shimmering like some oasis in the desert, and no longer as vivid or crisp as it once was.

His resolve was being whittled away with each passing day. Incrementally, slowly, perhaps even imperceptibly to the naked eye, but by his own words, we see that Job’s hope was running on empty, and after days, which turned into weeks, that turned into months of him waiting for light and only seeing darkness, after looking for good only to be met with evil, he was a man hanging on by the merest of threads.

Even the strongest of men gets worn down over time. It’s one thing to be met with a trial or to suffer a tragedy, and then to go through the process of mourning, acceptance, and healing. It’s another to see oneself growing weaker with each passing day, wherein one’s heart is in turmoil and cannot rest, and time is but a weight pressing on one’s chest, keeping them from taking a full breath.

Not only did Job have to contend with God’s silence, but he also had to contend with the attitude of those around him, remembering that though he’d wept for him who was in trouble, and his soul grieved for the poor, now that he found himself in a similar situation, there was no one weeping and grieving for him.

That’s one of the hard lessons of life each of us must learn at some point: just because you show kindness, empathy, and respond to the plight of the downtrodden, it is folly to expect the same from others if ever you find yourself in need of comfort and encouragement. The only one we can depend on is God, for He is faithful, just, loving, and merciful. Even when He is silent, He is present. Even when He seems afar off, He is near. God knew of Job’s every pain, hurt, tear, disappointment, and distress. He was not ignorant of them, nor had He turned a blind eye to Job’s suffering. There would be a time when restoration and healing would come, but that time was not yet.

What we choose to focus on, what we choose to cling to, will determine whether we finish well and run our race to completion or give up along the way. If I focus on my present circumstances rather than the promises of God, on the things which are seen rather than those that are not, the exhaustion will become overwhelming to the point of inhibiting me from pressing onward. If my eyes are firmly set upon the author and finisher of my faith, if Jesus is all I see before me, then I will continue to press in, knowing that He will keep my feet from stumbling and my steps from slipping.

2 Corinthians 4:17-18, “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.