“Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath. What is man that You magnify him, and that You are concerned about him, that You examine him every morning and try am every moment?” (7:16-18)
Oh man. I have said this before. Especially when every hard thing gets framed as some twisted form of character development or something. I’ve cried in despair, “just leave me alone!” But then the very next moment said, “No, no, no please don’t leave me, I need you!”
Sometimes everything feels like too much, and people reminding you that God is very active in the midst of your suffering feels twisted.
Thank God, He is bigger than our momentary afflictions, outside our narrow perspective and not intimidated by our dramatic outbursts. Thank God, He doesn’t leave us or foresake us, even if we asked Him to.
He is patient and understanding. He’s not an emabaressed parent, yanking us out of the public eye when we throw a tantrum. He doesn’t react or make snap decisions like we do. He knows what He’s doing and patiently responds in due time. He is not in our image as we tend to imagine Him.
He knows it’s hard. He warned Adam and Eve not to head this way. He’s stayed involved. He even spent 33 years living it, all the blood, sweat and tears, then died in the worst way imaginable. He endured our “worst case scenario” and overcame it for us.
Where is your pain, right now? Job didn’t want his friends to make sense of things, he wanted to pull the covers over his head and wait to die.
Bildad says, “He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouting.” (8:21) Better days can still be ahead, but they are hard to see and even harder to believe in.
In all cases, lift your pain to the Lord. I don’t know what He will make of it, but I know He’s good, and has a track record of overcoming even death.
God, be with us today, in our sorrows and laughter, exhaustion and excitement. I’ve been sick for over a week and my voice may be gone, but I am pretty sure I will shout again.