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griefIn these days, we have several members of our church family walking in grief. As I read Job 3 this morning, my heart was drawn to them.

You are no doubt familiar with the story of Job. You know of his great wealth and his great loss.  You know of his great statements of faith in chapter 1 and chapter 2.

He acknowledged God’s grace, stating he had no right to any of the gifts he had been given.  He acknowledged God’s trustworthiness, wondering how anyone could celebrate God’s blessings and then recoil when that same God delivered hardship to their life.

Job was a rock the week of his family’s funerals. But then a mere chapter (and seven days) later he speaks words of deepest hopelessness. He wishes he had never been born.

His world was shaken. By the end of chapter 3 he says is “I am not at ease, nor am I quiet; I have not rest, but trouble comes.” He has been crushed. It is a very different picture than the paragon of assurance you would have met at the funeral home.

The rest of the book contains the journal of Job’s long, anguished wrestling with the biggest questions of life. But what I am reminded of here is that Job was both a person of deep faith … and a person completely undone by the pain that had engulfed him.

And I know he is not alone. Dear friend, your faith does not seal your heart from pain. But neither does your pain invalidate the strength of your faith. Answers do not come quickly nor easily nor completely as attested by the rest of the Book of Job.

But the mere presence of this book in our Bibles assures us that God has, in fact, heard every word and thought of our wounded hearts. And He will be, in due time, the one who heals your heart.