Sunday, January 24, 2010
Have you ever thought about Job's wife? I mean, really. We love our Mr. Job, but what about the missus? Just think. There she was, the wife of a successful man-- and if you ascribe to the tenet that behind every successful man is a hard-working woman, she had to have some part in his fame and success. First of all, she gave birth to seven children in ancient 2nd millenium primitive conditions. Granted she was rich, but let's face it girls, no amount of gold or silk pillows changes the fact that childbirth is no picnic. Seven children 2,000 years before Christ? That's 63 months of pregnancy, or 5-1/4 years of her life in a maternity tunic. The children grew up to be fun-loving young people and Job loved and prayed for them. This must have been gratifying to Mrs. Job. Every woman wants her children to be loved by a caring dad, right? But then one day her world crashed down around her. Everything she worked for, built, believed in, loved, trusted, and been proud of was gone, beginning with their thousands of animals and the hired help. Then on her eldest son's birthday, a tornado struck, and he was killed in his house along with the rest of her children . She was left with absolutely nothing but a bereft husband who was in horrible, inconsolable grief. And if things weren't bad enough, suddenly this formerly richest man in the East broke out in agonizing boils from head to toe. She had to be beside herself in confusion, terror and grief. Well, we know the end of the story, don't we? God gave Job twice what he started out with, plus seven more children-- (that's 14 pregnancies all together) When we start to complain in life, Beloved, let's remember Mrs. Job and praise God, for God blessed her and Job both. He loved them both. Let's look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen--and think about our light affliction, which is but for a moment... Read 2 Cor. 4:16-18 with me and let's be glad together.