Job XCVII

 I’ve flown enough in my life to conclude that waiting is the hardest part. Whether you have a five-hour layover somewhere or rush to be at the airport two hours before your flight only to discover that it’s gotten delayed another three, it’s not the flying that’s cumbersome; it’s the waiting for something to happen.

The worst ones are those that keep delaying your departure time, keeping you in limbo, increasing your expectation that thirty more minutes of sitting next to the person who smells like head cheese and garlic in the waiting area is all it will take, only for someone to come on the loudspeaker and inform the gaggle of impatient souls that their departure was pushed another two hours.

The last flight we took together as a family got pushed back no less than four times, and what was supposed to be a five pm arrival ended up being a little after two in the morning. After the first two times, trying to instill patience in my daughters or insisting that this time they weren’t lying like they had the other two times became a pointless exercise. Sometimes, all you can do is wait. It’s annoying, irritating, uncomfortable, and draining, but it’s the only option afforded to you, and no matter how much you balk, scoff, or roll your eyes, it won’t make it go any faster. Getting home is not an option; it’s a necessity, and in order to get home, you must suffer the indignity of being told that a few more hours of sitting in an airport shouldn’t be that offputting.

This is the type of limbo Job found himself in, wherein God had not crushed him utterly and taken his life, but the life he currently had could hardly be called that. Time is a constant, yet depending on what you’re doing at any given moment, a day can seem like a breath or stretch on for ages. How we perceive the passing of time depends on whether or not what we are doing is cumbersome or enjoyable.

If I sit down to write, an hour can seem like a few minutes, but if I’m helping my daughter with her math homework, who is currently traversing the minefield known as fractions, a handful of minutes can seem like an eternity. When time seems to stretch, the intrusive thoughts attempt to burrow their way into one’s mind. What if I’ve forgotten the basics of fractions? It has been a minute since I had to sit in class and go through it, after all. What if I give her the wrong answer, and when the teacher asks why she hadn’t worked out the problem, my daughter spills the beans and informs the teacher I was the mastermind behind her failed attempt at getting the right answer?

It’s one thing to be informed that your child is failing math. It’s another to be informed that they’re failing math, knowing you’re the one who’s been doing their homework for them. What does that say about your mental wherewithal? For the sake of full disclosure, no, I’m not doing my daughter’s homework for her. She works out the problems, and I confirm whether she has the right answer or not. That I use the calculator on my phone to confirm it is a shame I will never live down, but we’re all gifted in different areas, and fractions is not one of mine.

By this point, Job was weary. He’d been in this state of subsisting for so long that death would have been a comfort to him and something he’d requested of God. Oh, that it would please God to crush me, that he would loose His hand and cut me off! At least then, there would be a finality to the pain and torment he suffered. At least then, there would be an end.

I can’t say I’ve ever been in such a mental state; then again, few men have gone through what Job went through in mankind’s history. It’s one thing to suffer persecution at the hands of others. You know who’s doling out the suffering, and you know what you’re suffering for. Understanding the purpose of something makes it easier to endure. If you know the ‘why,’ the knowledge of it will fortify your resolve and give you strength you never knew you had. Job, however, was ignorant of what had taken place between God and Satan or that he’d been given free rein to be sifted. All he knew was that he’d lost his possessions, position, progeny, and bodily health, yet had no explanation for it. He knew himself not to have concealed the words of the Holy One, regardless of what Eliphaz had implied, and he was ready for it to be over.

The thing about being sifted or tested is that you don’t get to determine the length of time it will last or its severity. You can only determine whether or not you will cling to God, remain faithful, and defer to His sovereignty in all things. If we had it our way, none would be tested, none would be tried, and none would be sifted. It would be akin to the modern-day narrative of raising one’s hand, saying a prayer, and enjoying smooth sailing and sunny skies for the rest of our days.

Whether or not we possessed true faith would be irrelevant, as would whether or not we’d established our hearts to follow Christ no matter the cost. The only problem is that this is neither true faith nor is it the true way. There’s no such thing as a pampered soldier. You can’t claim to be a warrior if you’ve never trained for war, nor can you claim to be a true follower of Christ if your commitment to Him extends only insofar as He blesses you coming and going. Your devotion, faithfulness, and obedience are not conditional upon whether or not God gives you something you really want or someone you really desire. A servant does not make demands of his master, and he does not cease to serve if his master does something contrary to his desires.

To hear some tell the tale, it is God who is subservient to us, not we to Him, and this mindset is the root of rebellion that seems to have dug deep within the hearts and minds of many within the church. God isn’t looking for my consent or yours. There is not one instance within the entirety of scripture where God came to someone and said, “Hey buddy, do you think I should do this? I’m struggling here; give me your input since I value it more than my inclinations.”

When we see ourselves as more than bondservants of Christ and servants of God, entitlement becomes a given, and when what we feel we’re entitled to doesn’t materialize, we grow bitter and resentful for not getting our way.

Job knew that God was sovereign. He understood that He does as He wills, and even though Job would have preferred to be done with it all, God had other plans and denied his request.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr. 

Posted on 17 January 2025 | 11:44 am