Five men circle a tiny flame in the desert. Four sit on rocks. A fifth sits in the sand, stripped to the waist. He is covered with oozing sores, boils swollen and bruised like berries beneath the skin. He rubs ashes in the wounds, listening to a friend:
“The light of the wicked is snuffed out. His lamp is put out. The wicked man’s own feet lead him into a net—”
Suddenly the man stands up. “Why do you crush me with words? You think I’m wicked? It is GOD who has wronged ME!” He shouts. “It is God who has caught ME in HIS net!” Job looks at each man, pleading. “Look at me! My skin is ruined! My breath offends my wife! My family finds me repulsive! Children mock me!”
Suddenly he stops, staring into the fire. He shakes his head, collapsing to his knees. He can’t make another speech about how unfair God is. It’s not true. Or maybe it is. But it’s not the whole truth. He rubs a dirty hand over his face, hiding a tear. He speaks to himself, quietly at first.
“But I KNOW my Redeemer LIVES.” He leans forward, his hands in the ashes. “I KNOW IT! And when this story is over, He will stand upon the earth. After I am dead and gone, He will bring me back, and I WILL SEE GOD. With my own eyes, I WILL SEE HIM.”
Job leans into the swirling smoke. He squeezes his eyes shut, causing tears to run down his cheeks, streaks of clean, wet skin leaving rivulets on his dusty, gray face.
“With my OWN eyes, I WILL SEE GOD!” He sobs.
“I will SEE GOD’S FACE!” He says confidently. “How my heart yearns within me!”
This man who has not stopped complaining about God for months, can no longer hide the truth: He KNOWS God is good. In spite of everything, GOD. IS. GOOD.
And Job knows: when we see God’s face, we will know the deepest, truest joy.
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Household Words: 