A Dark And Quiet Room

After I wrote my guinea pig story, I read a different blog where someone was talking about learning to love the sovereignty of God. So, I thought that I should briefly discuss Job.

Job is famous for having the single worst day in anyone’s life. In one day, he lost everything except his wife and his health. Then he got sick and was reduced to sitting in the ashes, scraping his sores and fending off the urges of his wife to “curse God and die”.

But most of the book consists of long monologues by Job and his three friends, each grappling with the question “Why me?” Job’s friends keep giving different answers, which Job rejects. Instead, Job demands to stand before God and demonstrate to Him that his suffering was unjust.

Then God shows up and turns the tables on everyone. (He has a disturbing habit of doing this, you know.) And when God monologues, everyone listens.

And, if I may, the content of God’s monologue boils down to one thing: I’m God; you’re not. So, trust My wisdom. “I made the world, Job. Where were you? Is it possible that I might actually have a clue or two about what I’m doing?”

And Job gets the point. And so he repents.

Was God angry? I don’t think so. I do think, though, that He was confronting His servant with a hard truth. God knows the answers, and He doesn’t actually have to justify His actions to jus. He made us, not the other way around. I’m typing on my computer right now, and I’m here to tell you that, if my computer started demanding reasons why I have it do work, I’d reformat it and install a new operating system. I’m in charge, not it, despite what it thinks from time to time.

So, God doesn’t owe us answers. Yet still He assures us that He knows what He is doing and that He loves us. That includes small things, like spilling milk on your Sunday clothes, and big things, like the phone call that says your mother is dead. It’s all part of the tapestry that He weaves around us, linking our lives together in a majestic work of glory and love.

So, trust God with your pain. He is wiser than you, and in the end, you will see that it was all worthwhile.