A Bereft Man called Job.

This is another Biblical account told in a new way. Looking afresh at something often helps us to put our fingers on some things that may have been testing us or raising concerns within our minds and bring some clarity.

A Bereft  Man Called Job.

I have often looked back in real desire to try and fathom when my life began to fall apart. It most certainly did go wrong and I always hoped that if I could spot just when it began I might be able to understand a little better. Knowing this might help me at a future date to change the course of events.

Until the time I am .about to recount for you things had been going very well indeed. Truth to be told they were going much better than just well, things could not really have been much better. 

I had lived many happy years with my wife, my seven sons and my three daughters. My sons and daughters were people that my wife and I were very proud of, they were each one of them caring and very thoughtful. Each had their own identities and each had those little things that could easily have brought discord among the family but they were so unimportant that we had become a loving family in every sense of both of those words.

Together we had managed to build a lucrative business that brought us a good quality of life. We owned a large herd of sheep. We had another herd of oxen and most important of all a good string of well-bred camels. We were fortunate in the reality that money was not something that brought us any concern, we had enough and more for a prosperous life.

I was also respected in the local community, others frequently visited to seek my help and advice. Life was comfortable, and we were doing well for ourselves. I often said, "The Lord has been good to me. Then I have been good and faithful to him."

From an early age, I had learned and kept the Ten Commandments, each and every one of them. Unlike many, I set aside time every day for prayer when I thanked God for the way he had looked after me and mine. I had put my trust in him and he had not let me down. I said it before but I repeat it again, "Life was good."

Then it all went wrong. I cannot pin down the day or the moment but it most surely all began and went wrong at a rapid rate. My first loss came when all of my camels were stolen, my herdsmen killed and left lying at the oasis where they had probably gone to water the beasts. Within a very short period of time, it was as if lightning had struck a second time and I found my herdsmen badly burned in the shelter where they had slept. Again there was not a sign of the sheep, all gone just like the camels.

Now if this was not bad enough we were then attacked by a marauding bunch of Chaldeans, in one attack all of my oxen and the rest of my herders and servants. All gone.

I told myself it could have been much worse, my wife and family were still around me and we could support one another as families do. We would have to work hard to restore our losses but we had done it before and I was sure we could do it again.

Then the unthinkable happened, my own flesh and blood, seven sons and three daughters and not one of them survived. I could not understand the illness that befell them but it spared not one of them. To this very day, I can feel the pain of that loss, the heartache as I buried each one of them.

What had I done to deserve all of this? I could think of nothing, I was a good man. "Why Lord, oh why me I cried? Tell me Lord tell me, why me?"

There must have been something I had done wrong some sin I had committed for the Lord to punish me in such a way. I was desolate, bereft no words could describe my torment.

Surely this must be the end?  It was not to be, there was more to come. I began to feel ill my body broke out in terrible sore and boils. It was not only painful it was a terrible sight I had to see. I could hardly look in the glass and see myself.

I became aware of the whispering words between people as I went walked along the way. People crossed over to avoid having to speak to me or catch my eye as they passed by.

Then came the final straw, the one that could so easily have broken the camels back. The one person, who until that day, had stood by my side. The one I had loved and cherished all those many years packed her belongings and returned to the bosom of her family. I was utterly alone, bereft and lost. I had nowhere to turn for help.

I had reached rock bottom. The thought that kept returning to my inner being that filled every waking moment was, Why Lord - Why? I wished I had never been born, and I told the lord this daily and nightly. I wished my mother had never put me to the breast that she had left me abandoned out in the open to die.

I can almost hear you ask, what about the many friends you had? Did none of them come to offer solace or a helping hand? They did come to visit me, at least four of them did, but not one of them seemed to understand my plight, or the depth of my despair. Surely being aware of how much I had loved my family they would understand? It seemed not.

They came, they stood in silence. At first, I thought it was because they understood my pain, that they could feel my hurt? But no. It was because they did not understand, that they stood before me and uttered not a single word.

Then one of them spoke. "Pull yourself together." It felt like a stab in the back, no even worse than that,  it was like a knife to my heart.

Pull myself together. How was I supposed to be able to do that? I ask you, how can somebody who has fallen so low ever manage to pull himself together?  Did they not understand what I had been through? Then one of them started to ask me what I had done to bring this on myself? How had I displeased God? As if I had not asked myself that very question a million times. It was help I needed, not judgement.

It seemed like the end. There was nowhere and no one who could offer me solace. Again suicide crossed my mind, but what would my death solve? 

It was then that realisation came my way. In my deepest hour, I became aware of something, someone standing with me and within me.  Something touched my inner being, gently and silently. I felt a presence as never before. A new strength reached deep within me, a strength flowed through me. There were no words, they seemed unnecessary; this inner burning, this wisdom did not require to be spoken just simply felt.

There were no explanations of why things had reached this point. No comforting words or hurtful questions. What there was is there are some things in life that cannot be explained, or reasoned. 

Some things just need silence and quiet.  Had my friends said nothing but rather just held me, touched me, been at one with me, this silent wisdom might have been mine earlier.

There is power and a peace that is there no matter the loss or the sorrow. It is there, but it needs to be nurtured and cherished that it might grow and we might become more aware that we are never on our own.