“You asked, ‘Who is this that questions my wisdom with such ignorance?’
— Job 42:3-6 (NLT)
FRIGHTENING is the reality when God finally speaks wisdom and justice into our ailing Job-like situations. We have whinged and complained about our horrible lot of life, condemning God for condemning us to the suffering of the season, and we had no idea, really, what we were saying. God drew back for a while. Our Lord let us let off our steam. He took the heat. And he didn’t even raise a sweat.
When all the heat dies down suddenly we do find God is active in righting our ship so far as our repentance is concerned. Being contrite is only a small portion of turning about face. Repentance is a grand symphony when contrition was merely a note or two at the start of the sonata.
God’s works in the midst of our fallen lives in ways too wonderful for any of us.
Yet we do fault-find to our situational detriment.
Sitting in dust and ashes is a necessary time of truthful reflection. If I’m honest about this day — a normal one, but not without its own share of drama — I find I have acted in ignorance, questioning the motives of others and God. Yet, who am I? What do I really know?
It would be better for me to know I know nothing in the realms of God.
The book of Job shows us a lot about wisdom and wisdom’s opposite, ignorance.
So often we think we know what we know, where we are going, what we are up to, and the ‘benefit’ we’re bringing. But time always tells. We might think that experience would be the best of teachers. Oh how not so! We do not learn easily.
So much of life is all too wonderful for us to truly comprehend. Taking a peaceful sojourn through the meandering streams of life is a wiser use of life than shaking our fist at God.
The Lord knows what he’s up to. He can be trusted. And especially when we think we’re dubiously led, we could instead take a reflective reality check.
Whenever we sincerely doubt God we could also prepare ourselves to repent. Both of these fit together in a cause-and-effect system. Pride always comes before a fall.
Lord, help me to know,
How much of life I don’t get,
Instead of me deciding to fret,
Help me to surrender and grow. AMEN.
© 2015 Steve Wickham.