Mother's Day, Suffering, and the Book of Job

Per last month’s blog, I’m sure many of you are wondering about the Detrow family and the state of their appeal to adopt their daughter Leticia.  This being the inescapable week of Mother’s Day, I decided to land the bad news now.  They. Were. Denied. Again.  

This holiday has me rooting for the Detrows and all the other underdogs, as I consider myself one of them.  Women who’ve lost (or are separated from) their child, husband, mother.  Females desperate to be married, to have children.  This is the mantra I repeat every year: Women, you are worthy, valuable, deserving of love.  Don’t let your circumstances (or one holiday) rob you of that truth.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the day is NOT ONLY about celebrating traditional “Mothers." Instead let’s honor the act of mothering: Ladies sharing love, friendship, and compassion wherever we can.  Therefore sweet Sisters, I include you all.

But as females, we are eager to isolate ourselves.  Mother’s Day gives many of us the perfect excuse to relish those shaming, negative thoughts.  We aren’t living the idyllic, story book dream we fantasized about.  Our losses eclipse everything, blinding us to life’s beauty and bounty.  For instance (believe me, I realize we each have our own “for instances”), that this is the first Mother’s Day without my Grandma Bare, that it is yet another holiday in a string of “special days” spent apart from our daughter, could overshadow all else.  The “withouts” make it easy to forget our “withs.”  This year I will *try* to remember: I am blessed WITH a crazy compassionate husband and tender-hearted son.  We have a lovely, loving extended family and friends dear enough to be family.  2 cars, clean water, a spacious, comfortable home.  Yes, even in loss, I can be grateful for these.

My talented friend Chan made it easy to spot who is missing from this picture.  We need some little girl feet!

Speaking directly to that theme, Job is one of those books of the Bible that can make us (Okay, maybe just me?) cringe.  This super righteous guy (unknowingly) acts as the test case for all Jesus followers during his time.  Satan’s convinced if Job turns to the dark side then God might as well forfeit everything.  And God, knowing Job’s strong convictions and character, says “Game on, Lucifer.”  So with zero Divine explanation or preparation, the floodgates of hell are instantaneously unleashed on Job.  His livelihood, family, reputation, status, and health are systematically destroyed by the devil.  For a long time, he heard a big fat NOTHING from God concerning this staggering twist in events.  If it was me, WORDS would have been said.  But that’s why Job made it into the pages of Scripture and I didn’t (although during especially difficult -and dramatic- weeks, I claim God is appendixing extra chapters into Job through my life).  Instead “Job stood up and tore his robe in grief.  Then he shaved his head and fell to the ground in worship.  He said, ‘I came naked from my mother’s womb, and I will be naked when I leave.  The Lord gave me what I had, and the Lord has taken it away.  Praise the name of the Lord!’ In all of this, Job did not sin by blaming God.”-Job 1:20-22.

My Monday morning Bible study group is currently studying these passages.  I have to tell you, Job is a tough sell.  It is a harsh book to swallow.  Particularly when many members of our group have gone through (or are going through) STUFF with a capital S-T-U-F-F.  We know suffering.  And then there’s these Scriptures, where God basically lets Job take one for the team.  It’s hard to wrap your brain around, even on a good day.

God’s point to Job, when He finally appears to address his agonized questioning, is simply: I am God.  “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?  Tell me, if you know so much...Who kept the sea inside its boundaries as it burst from the womb?...Have you ever commanded the morning to appear and caused the dawn to rise in the east?”-Job 38:4,8,12.  In awe, Job fervently responds (in 42:5-6), “I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes.  I take back everything I said, and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance.”

We girls talked this through one Monday morning.  Would our response to immense suffering look like Job’s?  Would we prefer to “curse God and die” as Job’s wife suggests?  Or would we play the blame game Job’s friends did later on?  Our answers ran the gamut. Buying stock in wine was a popular choice.  Seriously.  But Job’s words in 1:21 struck a chord, recalling a song I’ve taken comfort in during difficult times.  Specifically during David’s unemployment and our struggle with infertility.  Called “Blessed be Your Name,” it was written by Matt Redman and his wife in the weeks following 9/11 (Read more about the song’s origin here):

Blessed be Your name

When the sun's shining down on me

When the world's all as it should be

Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name

On the road marked with suffering

Though there's pain in the offering

Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out

I'll turn back to praise

And when the darkness closes in, Lord

Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord

Blessed be Your name

Blessed be the name of the Lord

Blessed be Your glorious name

You give and take away

You give and take away

My heart will choose to say, Lord

Blessed be Your name

That’s a modern day Psalm if I’ve ever heard one.  And we tearfully agreed (being all mamas, our group cries a lot) that we’d rather do life, suffering included, with God over without Him.  It’s not exactly a Braveheart call to arms, but it works.

This Mother’s Day when the “withouts” threaten to overtake me, I will attempt to focus on my biggest WITH.  That the God who stretched out the skies and laid the foundations of the earth is always by my side.  Now He may never present me with a comprehensive list of “reasons why” on this side of heaven, but He will never leave me or forsake me.  It is literally written into His job description (Matthew 1:23): “‘Look! The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel, which means 'God is with us.’”  I hope this promise will provoke a Job-like response in us, a sitting back in awe and wonder.  For as we endure, we have the opportunity to grow closer and deeper in relationship with Jesus.  There’s access to profound knowledge during difficult times, but it hinges on the choices we make.  Because even in the midst of Job’s agony and heartache, he saw God and all his questions were put to silence.  Our suffering serves to thin the veil between this world and the next, to make us long for the perfection unattainable on this broken planet.  And someday every pressing desire and demand of ours will be put to rest too.  When we’ll finally be able to say, “I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes.”  Lord, blessed be your name.