A language for pain

Job has had it tough. Really tough. He’s lost his children and all of his livestock. He’s covered in a horrific skin disease. And no, he hasn’t turned his back on God or blamed Him for what has happened to him. Not like we may be tempted to do when bad things happen.

‘Well, if God has allowed this to happen to me, it proves He doesn’t love me.’

‘I’m not prepared to follow a God who does this to me.’

‘God must really hate me and now I hate Him.’

But yes, Job is human. He cannot remain silent. He must express his pain and suffering. It’s OK to find a language for our pain. More than OK. We don’t have to pretend we’re OK when we’re not. We don’t have to say we’re fine when we’re not.

And so in the next three chapters, Job pours out his heart to his friends and his friend Eliphaz offers some words of comfort. Read Job 3-5 if you have time. It’s beautiful, heart-breaking poetry. You may find it gives you a language for your pain.

Here’s a paraphrase of my own based on these chapters that I hope you find helpful.

Job: You know what? I wish I’d never been born. No, really. I really do. I wish the day of my birth could be wiped from history -and the day I was conceived. Then I wouldn’t exist. Then I wouldn’t be here. The  I wouldn’t have to be putting up with this.

That day should be a nothing. Pure darkness.

And that night too. A night of blackness where no new life can be created.

Those days are nothing but a curse. Because from them, I came to life. And just look at me now.

If only I had died at birth. That would have been better than this. So much better than this.

Because then I would be at peace. I would find sleep. I would be able to rest.

Then I would be hidden deep in the ground with all the others – good and evil – who have found their resting place. Their comfort. Their escape.

Why am I still here? I can’t take it any more. This misery is too much to bear.

I want to die. Please let me die. Why won’t you let me go? That’s the only things that will make me happy, believe me.

All I can do is sigh and groan. I can’t believe it’s come to this. This was my greatest fear. That my life would be consumed by suffering and there would be no escape.

I can find no peace. No rest. No calm.

Only anguish and suffering and torment.

It’s awful, isn’t it, to feel that way. To feel that you cannot bear it any more. To wish you were dead. Because that feels like the only way out and all you want is for the torment to end.

You may be able to recall moments in your life where you have felt that way. You may be feeling that way right now.

Let’s see what Job’s friend has to say.

Eliphaz: Is it OK if I say something? Or are you going to shout me down?

I can’t keep quiet here. I have to say something.

Job, you’ve helped so many people in your time. You’ve been a great role model. You’ve supported and encouraged those who were feeling weak. But now it’s your turn. Your turn to be discouraged. Your turn to face trouble and suffering. And you don’t know what to do.

You’re a good man, Job. A really good man. You’ve always done the right thing. Can’t you find any comfort and hope in that? Just think about it. God has never allowed the innocent to be destroyed. It’s those who do evil that He destroys. That’s how I see it, anyway.

I know it sounds weird, but when I was dreaming last night, I heard a voice. It scared the life out of me. Some sort of spirit brushed past my face and all the hairs on my body stood on end. I’ve no idea what it was, but it spoke these words.
How can any man be more righteous than God? How can humans be purer than their Creator?

God doesn’t even trust his own angels, let alone these fragile bodies composed of mud that we call human beings. These bodies of ours are here today and gone tomorrow. Gone without a trace.

So Job, we don’t get to control when we live and when we die. God does.

I know you’re bitter. But resentment is a killer.

I know you wish you were dead. But yearning for something you can’t have will eat you up inside.

We’ve all seen what happens to those who are stupid and make the wrong choices. No one can avoid trouble. It comes to us all at some point.

But if I were you, I would appeal to God. Tell Him exactly how you feel.

We don’t understand God’s ways. We both know that. God is beyond human understanding.

But we know He is the God of miracles. He provides. He delivers. He comforts. He protects. He heals. He sees everything. Hears everyone. He gives us hope. How awesome is the God we serve!

Somehow you need to find a way to believe that all will be well. This is just a season. It will pass. God will be there for you. If you trust Him and obey Him through it all, He will see that. He will honour that.

Do you hear what I am saying? God is faithful. He will never abandon you.

Now you need to find a way to apply those truths to what you are going through right now.

Wise words from Eliphaz there. Words we can use ourselves, maybe when we are sat alongside a friend in need. Words we can apply to our own lives.

Before I go, I have something I need to confess. I left a line out. Am important line. Because this line is so often misquoted and misused and has caused so much additional pain and heartache and confusion for those who are already suffering beyond measure. So I want to give that line a blog all to itself tomorrow and attempt to unpack it then.

And OK, I won’t keep you guessing. The line is this –

Blessed is the one whom God corrects;
so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty.  Job 5:17