Friday 01 October 2021

Bible Book:
Job

A mortal, born of woman, few of days and full of trouble. (v. 1)

Job 14:1-14 Friday 1 October 2021

Psalm 2:1-8

Background

It is a strange fact that when at Easter we offer a foot-washing service, those who come nearly always wash their feet first. Stranger too is the way I try to bring my most presentable self to God, especially when asked to confess my sins. I wonder sometimes if I think God is simply too fragile to cope with Mark Wakelin's less pleasing side. 

When one of my granddaughters was still a little baby, we visited her. She was really poorly with a heavy cold. To be honest she was totally miserable and utterly disgusting. When we arrived, she sat on me and went to sleep. I was of course charmed by her, but also covered with the evidence of her nasty cold; and a nice new jumper it was. Did I mind? My heart is still filled with tenderness towards her and the memory of the moment when she felt OK to be who she was. "If you who are evil know how to treat your children, how much more will your heavenly father know how to treat you"(my very free paraphrase of Matthew 7:11).

Job’s prayer of abject desolation and desperation makes no effort to look on the bright side. He speaks out of the depths of his misery and sees no hope, no light, no future. We may feel that Job should try a little harder, be a little more willing to give God credit. But he doesn’t and longs only for death. Does God mind? Whatever else we make of the major questions that the book of Job raises, we are left with this. Job doesn’t give up on God even though he has given up on himself, and we sense that God allows this wretchedness space and patience. This prayer of despair is a glimmer of God’s creature who senses there is nowhere else to go.

 

To Ponder:

  • How do you prepare to pray?
  • Do you feel you can ‘come as you are’, or deep down want God only to see your best side?
  • How might you grow in faith of a God who loves all of you?

Prayer

Thank you that you welcome me as I am; when full of doubt and fury, when overwhelmed with sorrow, and hurting all over. Thank you that there isn’t a right me that you welcome, but the real me; sometimes damaged and damaging, but still made in your image and ‘precious in your sight’. Amen.

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