My Pain Was Self-Inflicted

My pain was self-inflicted. I set in motion a chain of events that led to my misery. I understand payback is a bitch. Bad Karma. Vengeance. Retribution. But Job, he was just toolin’ along in life, doing the right thing when he gets hit between the eyes repeatedly.  How could God do this? How did he just turn Job over the Epitome of Evil to do as he wished. … But spare his life. Gee, thanks, I think.  I remember having poison ivy once. All over my body. Itchy, burning torture. Poison ivy causes little blisters. When you scratch, it spreads the irritation.  Job looses everything that is dear to him.  Now he has lost his health. He breaks out in blisters and can only sit in an ash pile and scratch himself with a piece of a broken clay pot. From what I read is sounds like his wife is contemptuous of him. She tells him to curse God and die…  My pain was self-inflicted but it didn’t come near the devastation of Job.  I do know a little of that horrid sense of abject hopelessness. The recurring theme: Good life is all behind you. Nothing good remains. Your life will be a wretched end, and nobody will be there to even remember that you existed.

Job scraped his skin with a piece of broken pottery as he sat among the ashes. His wife said to him, “Are you still trying to maintain your integrity? Curse God and die.”

The remarkable thing is that Job didn’t curse God.  And, he didn’t die either.

A Conversation With Angels

I have had my share of troubles in life. You know the unexpected bill from the IRS for a bazillion dollars. An unexpected house repair. A wreck with an uninsured motorist.  Normally, I would have battened down the hatches and weathered the storm. Stuff happens. Stuff gets fixed. Life goes on.  Usually. In the past four years, however, stuff began to hit the fan in rapid fire.  Cataclysmic events.  Each event worse that the one before. It was like being punched out and before you could get back on your feet, someone kicks you in the gut, and then someone else stomps on you. In my darkest hour I remember asking God “What is going on?  What do you want from me? What do you want with me? Funny thing. He never answered, or so I thought.  C. S. Lewis describes these times as standing outside knocking on God’s door, only to find the door bolted shut, and no answer. During this time my stress, my grief, my anxiety, all mixed together was so intense that I had a metal taste in my mouth much of the time.  I wasn’t surprised when I read about men in combat who experience that same sensation.

So here is the picture: Angels file into the throne room. One particularly striking fellow strides in with them. God addresses him directly. “Where have you come from?”  From there the topic moves to Job. God asks “have you noticed Job?  He’s the finest man on the earth. The one responds “yeah, but put him in a bind and let’s see what happens.”  And here’s the part that always troubled me: God says:  “Ok, take his possessions but don’t hurt him….  The one angel makes a hasty departure.

Yes Job Fears God, but not without good reason…

… Take away everything he has

and he will surely curse you to your face!”

Job’s Story…….

You know they say that bad stuff always comes in three’s.  My life was going great on the day that it started.  The foreman from ranch # 13 showed up at my office, bloodied and beaten. “A band of raiders plundered the spread, stole the livestock, killed the ranch hands and burned the place to the ground. I’m the only one that got out alive.”  He hadn’t finished when another foreman from the lower pastureland came to tell me that lightning struck and killed a flock of sheep and our best shepherd.  You know that thing about bad stuff and threes? Well,  It went far beyond that.  Wave after wave of calamity. When I thought it couldn’t get any worse… I got the news that shattered my life. The storm that wiped out my sheep, spawned a tornado that destroyed my son’s home.  My kids were all there having a party. One minute celebrating.  Then next, dead!  All of them.  In a moment the good life turned into a nightmare. But there was no waking up.

Things were about to get worse.

It really disturbs me….

I have heard about Job all my life.  The Trials Of Job, The Life of Job, Job this, Job that…. I am a preacher’s kid. Job came up a lot. I never understood.  It didn’t make sense.  A loving God? Who turns Satan loose on their friend and says “have at him“? It just never made sense. As I get older — and hopefully a little wiser— I am revisiting Job.  A second look is good.  Or, maybe it is a first look the second time around.  Anyway, I am drawn to Job. Perhaps out necessity. I am sifting through the smoking embers of what is left of my life.  I have chosen to stick around and look for the Phoenix to come flying out of the ashes. We’ll see.

THERE WAS A MAN NAMED JOB who lived in the land of Uz.   He was blameless, a man of complete integrity. He feared God and stayed away from evil….

My Name Is Job…

I thought I was doing everything right. I was rich. Some say filthy rich… but I was rich.  I tried to give back to the community.  I was always a part of the philanthropic crowd, giving to this cause or to that. I tried to be a good man, do the right thing.  I loved my wife. I did right by my kids.  When they got a little wild from time to time, I had that talk with…. you know, HIM.  — We don’t normally say his name out loud…  Anyway… I would have that talk and ask HIM…  “If my kids were a little too wild last night, would you please cut them a little slack?  They’re just kids, you know”   So when the donkey-dung started raining on my world I wondered… “What is going on up there?– I didn’t think this was part of the bargain– I be nice– you be nice to me in return, isn’t that the way it is supposed to be?”

What I didn’t know is that the crap-storm was just starting.

Help! I’ve fallen through the wormhole to Hell

My Name is Job.  I lived a long time ago. I was successful in business. Ranching was my enterprise. I had everything a man could want: a beautiful wife, children, grandchildren, land, money, great friends, and a great future.

I had everything.

I lost everything.

I was a pawn in a cosmic chess game.

I lost.

I lived. I died.

I lived wishing I had died.

I cried. I hurt. I mourned.

I was ruined.

I spoke to God.

This is my story…