Posted in Dumnezeologie

The story of Job

“I love the story of Job. Not because of what happens to him, but because of his response. Scripture says that when Job first heard the news about his decimated crops and children killed by a tornado — that his whole world had come crashing down — that he tore his clothes, shaved his head, fell to the ground…and worshipped.

He worshipped.

Really???

That might not have been my first response. Just being honest.

And then when his best friends are telling him to curse God and die, Job — sitting in ashes with boils covering his skin, holding a shard of puss-covered pottery — looks at his friends and shakes his bald head. “Though he slay me, yet will I serve him.” Another way to translate ‘serve’ is ‘Hope.’ “Yet, will I Hope in him.”

That’s the heart I want. Right there. The one that says, “My circumstances — death, murder, mayhem, boils, total financial ruin — don’t dictate God’s goodness. His heart toward me is good. He is my Hope. Period.”

Job’s friends — thinking he’s lost his ever-loving mind — continue the verbal onslaught. “Dude, look around. Your goose is cooked. You are absolutely ruined.” But there sits Job. Still carving boils. He looks up, between the tears and the pain and heartbreak and waves them off. “Guys…My Redeemer lives. And I know at the last, he will take his stand on the earth.”

There it is again, right there. Tried and tested. That magnificent heart that pounds its fist on the table and defies logic and all the voices to the contrary, “I will praise you. No matter what.”

Lord, my circumstances are really good. Compared to Job, my life is a cakewalk. But I don’t want to take that for granted. And don’t think I’m sitting here living in fear of a reversal, I’m not, BUT I’m not in control. So let’s pour the foundation now. Let’s lay the cornerstone. I want you to do in me — I give you permission — to do whatever you need in the deep recesses of me so that, in the event that my circumstances change, you’ve sown in my heart now what I will need then — to praise you. Period. All out. Not just lip service. But arm-raising, David-dancing, shout-it-at-the-top-of-my-lungs praise for the King of Glory (who laid the foundations of the earth, hung the stars and set the bolt and doors to the universe).

Job ends his story with this. One final declaration. “Lord, I know that You can do all things. And no purpose of Yours can be thwarted….I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; but now my eye sees You.”

I want to join my voice with Job’s. A chapter in my story that echoes throughout eternity. “My Redeemer lives.”Period.”

Charles Martin

sursa: aici

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Oh God, I don't love You, I don't even want to love You, but I want to want to love You! Theresa of Avila

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