The Gospel According to Job

I'm reading a book right now, complements of my good friend Ronn-- also the pastor of my church-- which shares the same title with this particular post. Mike Mason is the author. It has been so good for my soul, even though I'm just digging into it-- not even a quarter of the way through, yet. It is a verse-by-verse "devotional" of sorts, of the book of Job.

Crazy, but Job wasn't really (according to most scholars) "in the fold", so to speak-- he wasn't of the "tribe of Abraham". He was "from the East". Not an Israelite. Most likely, he had no knowledge of Moses and the 10 Commandments, or "The Law" that was given to "God's People"... he had probably never even heard of Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob. In fact, some scholars believe Job even PRE-DATED Abraham. Therefore, the account of his life, trials, grief, and worship were very "non-religious". He had virtually no "historical" or "traditional" religion. He simply knew the Almighty God, as His Divine Nature and Person were simply written on the heart of Job (as they are every person), and Job simply was in communion with this Almighty that superceded all religion. In fact, hundreds if not THOUSANDS of years before the Cross, Job experienced the Truth and Grace and Hope and Passion of the Gospel, in the midst of his suffering before the Almighty. Kind of humbling, isn't it? As much as we run to our traditions and institutions for answers and comfort, here is a man who lost it all. He had no "church", no "Scripture", no "denominational heritage"... only God. Yet his faith was greater than anyone on this earth today, in my opinion. He poured out ALL he was to God-- his anger, his sense of mercy, his God-given wisdom and knowledge, his pain, his hope... his "humanity". Dude GOT "worship". He GOT "pursuing God"... "abiding" in Him...

Abiding...

Now there's a concept. I was just emoting to a friend today about how Leslie was an anchor for me... she met so many of my needs. The one that I've been wrestling with lately has been this: I have a need to be affirmed... to be known... to be understood. Not by everybody (in fact, I could care less about what 99.99% of the people in this world care or think about me)... but as for those whom I love... I need to know they love me... that I bring value to their life... that I am unique, cherished, of value. When Leslie was alive, she was "enough". She got me. We were WAY different in so many regards, but she cherished me, in all my strange-ness and quirkiness. She affirmed my thoughts, encouraged the passions of my heart. She would just lie there and listen in the dark at night whilst I spilled the eternal yearnings of my soul. And she would acknowledge them. Affirm me. Love me.

And now, she's gone.

A voice whispers... "abide..."

Those of you who know me know that I'm not a man of few words. This blog in and of itself is evidence of this fact. I struggle with that-- "...be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry..." a "mantra" of mine, of sorts, since my adolescence... one which is still so elusive to this day. I'm much more likely to be the person who lies awake at night regretting what he said, rather than the one who tosses and turns thinking of the things he wishes he would have had the words (or guts) to say. Neither is a worse person... But our struggles are unique, one from the other. I'm a verbal processor, though. (I know... HUGE revelation, right?) And Leslie was the bearer of that "listening" burden for me, for most of my adult life. At least, the part I remember. And there is definitely a "void" left, in her absence. (Man, I'm full of the profoundly obvious, tonight.) But the temptation is to rush to fill that void. To be known as she knew me, by another. Anybody. Somebody. Man, woman, or blog. And God has been whittling away at me... "Really, my son... what is it that you don't already have in me that your heart is telling you it desires? Do I not listen? Am I not here with you? Have I not proven my presence? What else do you hunger for?"

As I reflected into a microphone at church today, amidst a worship set that spoke to my own heart-- sandwiched between the songs "Hungry" and "All the World Will Sing Your Praises"-- "We don't live on bread alone... but on EVERY WORD that comes from the mouth of God." I'm so hungry, indeed. But the same God that poured the parts of Himself into Leslie with which He used to meet those very intimate and emotional needs in me-- that "hunger"... The strength He poured into her in order to make her the perfect partner for me-- is STILL HERE, even in her absence... and I know He will continue meeting my needs. I confess that it is difficult to not rush to fill the void myself... to wait. To abide. To "be still and know that I am God". It's hard to find solitude when the loneliness is so loud. It's hard to let His peace settle on me, some nights, when the angst is raging through my heart and mind-- that noise that Leslie would help me absorb and tame, by her mere presence, listening ear, and feedback.

But the Almighty is still here, and He's listening. Just as He was for Job. (As if I can compare my lot to Job's!) And gradually, He's teaching me to be content with that. In Him. To... "abide".

Needing prayer for peace tonight... that I might "abide".

Maybe if I say that word enough, it will start to sink in...

Abide...