Thoughts While Reading Job

Job 2:11-13
“Now when Job’s three friends heard of all this adversity that had come upon him, each one came from his own place – Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. For they had made an appointment together to come and mourn with him, and to comfort him. And when they raised their eyes from afar, and did not recognize him, they lifted their voices and wept; and each one tore his robe and sprinkled dust on his head toward heaven. So they sat down with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his grief was very great.”

I am reading through the book of Job as part of my daily Bible reading this month. I find it very interesting that when Job’s three friends heard of all the adversity that had befallen him, they came to mourn with him and comfort him. In fact, the Bible says they made an appointment together to do so. They agreed together to come and comfort their friend who had just lost so much and was suffering so terribly. They wept with him, tore their clothes, and they sat silently with him for seven days and nights.

Of course, after sitting silently, they eventually opened their mouths after Job finally spoke, but I was thinking about their original response to Job’s grief. I think that we are often afraid of grieving people. What I mean is, we don’t know the right thing to say, so we stay away. I know that I am very guilty of this. I am extremely awkward and uncomfortable with others’ grief. We are often overwhelmed by and afraid of the painfully raw emotion when someone is facing what Job described like this:

“For my sighing comes before I eat,
And my groanings pour out like water.
And what I dreaded has happened to me.
I am not at ease, nor am I quiet;
I have no rest, for trouble comes.” (Job 3:24-26)

I think there is a lot of compassion and wisdom in coming alongside a friend who is hurting and just crying with them. We don’t always have to know what to say. Sometimes, it’s best not to say much of substance at all. Sometimes, “I love you,” or “I care so much and I don’t know what to say,” or “I’m praying for you,” is so very meaningful, even when we feel so inadequate for saying them. At times of extreme grief, we don’t always need or want someone to try to explain or say much of anything. We want to know they care. The questions come later, I think. I suppose that may be a little simplistic, but my point is, we shouldn't stay away just because we don't know what to say. Being there and helping with practical needs matters at such times.

And when we do feel the need to speak, I hope we will be careful what we say. I have suffered three miscarriages in the past seven years. Some things were said along the way that were, frankly, quite hurtful, by very well-meaning people. Because I knew that people just didn’t know what to say, I chose to let things go and not be offended, even when deep down some of them did hurt. The most meaningful thing anyone did for me after my last one was a friend at church who, upon seeing me for the first time since hearing we had lost one more baby, just held out her arms and hugged me and let me cry. She didn’t even say anything. I hope I can use those experiences and be careful what I say when I try to comfort someone. I hope I have not been unthinkingly hurtful at times without ever meaning to be. Job’s friends thought they had it all figured out. They were just sure Job was suffering due to some sin he proudly wouldn’t confess. They were wrong. We are wrong, too, to rush to make those kinds of assumptions. God’s ways are higher than ours and His thoughts are not our thoughts. We do not know all there is to know in every situation. But, for those whose hope is in Christ, God’s grace is sufficient for us. When we are trusting in Christ, He is our peace. Those are not trite little phrases, but strong anchors packed with truth to steady us in the midst of the storms of life.

I don’t like to think about suffering. I don’t like to think I may be called to suffer. But we are not promised that our circumstances will always be easy. In fact, it seems that we are called to realize that we will suffer in some form or another in this life. I think it is important to determine ahead of time that submission to Christ is our response, to choose this day that we will serve the LORD. James tells us: “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” (James 1:2-4) I notice the “but” there that warns us to let patience have its work. This is so alien to me. It is hard to think about being joyful in trials. But I also know that Christ Jesus will complete His perfect work in me. He will make me to stand before His presence, blameless, and with great joy.

Joy in trials. This is a difficult concept. Especially for us in our materialistic, comfortable culture. But a heart of submission to and hope in Christ Jesus is so important. Even Job questioned his circumstances, but he didn’t lose his faith in God. We may not always understand God’s thoughts, but we can trust Him. He is working all things for our good and for His glory, even when we cannot see how this could be while in the midst of it. This is the joy. Joy even in tears. And when we can come alongside a friend who is hurting, we just might be the instrument God uses to share His love with them when we can speak a fitting word in season. When we can come alongside a fellow believer who is grieving or hurting, there is joy in the deep fellowship of knowing we are family through Jesus, who demonstrated His love so magnificently and, for the joy set before Him, He endured the cross. What an amazing Savior.