Reflection No. 3426 of 4322
Context · Reflection
Job 7:17-21: a reflection
17What is man, that you should magnify him, that you should set your mind on him, 18that you should visit him every morning, and test him every moment? 19How long will you not look away from me, nor leave me alone until I swallow down my spittle? 20If I have sinned, what do I do to you, you watcher of men? Why have you set me as a mark for you, so that I am a burden to myself? 21Why do you not pardon my disobedience, and take away my iniquity? For now will I lie down in the dust. You will seek me diligently, but I will not be.”
In the depths of his suffering, Job pours out a raw and honest lament to God, even feeling God's attention as a burden, yet still addressing his complaint to God and longing for his pardon. What is man, Job cries, that you should magnify him, that you should visit him every morning and test him every moment? Why do you not pardon my disobedience and take away my iniquity? Job's words are raw, even bordering on complaint against God's constant attention; and yet he brings them to God, not turning away, and longs for God's pardon and relief. His honest anguish is poured out before God himself. This shows that we can bring our raw, honest pain and longing honestly to God. We can pour out raw, honest lament to God in our pain. Job brought even his complaint to God, not away from him. God can bear our raw, honest anguish. Bring your honest pain and longing to God.
Notice that Job, in his suffering, does not suppress his raw feelings or turn away from God; he pours them out to God himself. His words are honest to the point of complaint: he feels God's constant attention as a burden, wonders why God does not simply leave him alone, longs for God to pardon his sin and give him relief. These are not polished, pious words; they are the raw anguish of a suffering man. And yet Job addresses them to God, bringing his real pain, his complaint, his longing, honestly before the God he still, even in his anguish, turns to. This is honest about what suffering can feel like, and it shows us that we can bring even our rawest, most honest pain to God. We do not have to hide our anguish behind pious words, or suppress our real feelings, or turn away from God when we are hurting. We can pour out our raw honest pain, our complaints, our longings, to God himself, who can bear them. And even in the rawest lament, like Job, we can still be turning toward God, longing for his pardon and relief. God does not despise our honest anguish brought to him. We can bring our rawest, most honest pain to God, who can bear it. Do not hide your anguish behind pious words; pour it out to God. Even in raw lament, we can be turning toward God, not away. God can bear our honest complaints and longings.
That is worth taking to heart, for we can bring our raw, honest pain, complaint, and longing to God, who can bear it, as Job poured out his anguish to God in his suffering. We can feel we must hide our real anguish behind pious words, or suppress it, or turn from God when we hurt; but Job poured out his raw lament, even his complaint, to God himself, longing for his pardon. God can bear our honest pain. When you are suffering, do not hide your anguish behind pious words or turn from God; pour out your honest pain and longing to him. Pour out your raw, honest pain, complaint, and longing to God, who can bear it, rather than hiding your anguish behind pious words or turning from him, as Job, in the depths of his suffering, cried out to God, what is man that you should visit him every morning and test him every moment, why do you not pardon my disobedience and take away my iniquity, bringing even his complaint and his feeling that God's constant attention was a burden honestly to God himself while longing for his pardon and relief; for Job's words were raw, even bordering on complaint against God, and were not polished pious words but the honest anguish of a suffering man, and yet he addressed them to God, not turning away but bringing his real pain and longing before the God he still turned to, which is honest about what suffering can feel like and shows us that we can bring even our rawest, most honest pain to God, not hiding our anguish behind pious words or suppressing our feelings or turning from him, but pouring out our raw pain, complaints, and longings to God himself, who can bear them, even while, like Job, we are still turning toward him and longing for his pardon and relief.
Lord, in the depths of his suffering, Job pours out a raw and honest lament to you, even feeling your attention as a burden, yet still addressing his complaint to you and longing for your pardon. What is man, Job cries, that you should magnify him, that you should visit him every morning and test him every moment? Why do you not pardon my disobedience and take away my iniquity? Job's words are raw, even bordering on complaint against your constant attention; and yet he brings them to you, not turning away, and longs for your pardon and relief. His honest anguish is poured out before you. This shows that I can bring my raw, honest pain and longing to you. Show me that Job, in his suffering, does not suppress his raw feelings or turn away from you; he pours them out to you. His words are honest to the point of complaint: he feels your constant attention as a burden, longs for you to pardon his sin and give him relief. These are not polished, pious words; they are the raw anguish of a suffering man. And yet he addresses them to you, bringing his real pain honestly before you, whom he still, even in his anguish, turns to. This is honest about what suffering can feel like, and it shows me that I can bring even my rawest, most honest pain to you. I do not have to hide my anguish behind pious words, or suppress my real feelings, or turn away from you when I am hurting. I can pour out my raw honest pain, my complaints, my longings, to you, who can bear them. And even in the rawest lament, like Job, I can still be turning toward you, longing for your pardon. Take that to my heart, for I can bring my raw, honest pain and longing to you, who can bear it. When I am suffering, keep me from hiding my anguish behind pious words or turning from you; help me pour out my honest pain and longing to you, Lord, even my complaint, while still turning toward you and longing for your pardon and relief, as Job did.