THE BOOK OF JOB, CHAPTERS 1 AND 2

So we started Job last week in the small group of women that I am leading, and I said quite some time ago that I wanted to share on this blog what I have learned in two key classes at seminary: Job and Sickness & Suffering. Last week we started out the book of Job by discussing the fact that Job was struck with a great deal of pain and suffering, physically, emotionally, and relationally. And so he grieved. We talked about the importance of grieving and of grieving with others and for others to allow you to be in pain and not demand that you put on a fake face and go jump up and down in worship. (I do not want to negate the fact that there is a time for discipline where we need to make ourselves worship even when we don't feel like it, and I don't want to negate the fact that there is a place for facing that our own sin can be why we are down or sad, but right now I want to focus on the fact that often we keep our hurt to ourselves because we feel that others will think we are sinful, when in fact we are merely suffering because this world can be so painful.)

I am in a Bible study with several pastor's wives, elder's wives, deacon's wives. People who are very godly, know the Word, and walk with Christ. And yet the other week when we spent extensive time praying together, we each one had at least somewhat, if not largely, bought into the lie that we seem to be the only ones that struggle, and that no one else does, so we must be bad Christians. This is a lie, though, and we cannot let it determine the amount of vulnerability we allow, for we must suffer together or else we are missing out on some of the comfort God is giving us. That entails telling others that we are suffering - in the right context and in the right time and to the right people, of course. But my point here today is the fact that we are not the only ones who struggle with whatever it is, no matter how "whacko" you are feeling that you are, and so don't let the thought that you think you are an oddball keep you from fellowship with others, because you are not an oddball. This fallen world is a hard place to live.