After the Avalanche, Part Two
by Charles R. Swindoll
Could it be that you are beginning to feel the nick of falling rocks? Maybe the avalanche has already fallen and you're more than a little desperate. Job is our model for staying faithful when life is reduced to rubble. How'd he do it? Let's take a look.
First, Job claimed God's loving sovereignty. He sincerely believed that the Lord who gave had every right to take away (Job 1:21). Stated in his own words:
"Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?"
He looked up, claiming his Lord's right to rule over his life. Who is the fool that says God has no right to add sand to our clay or marks to our vessel or fire to His workmanship? Who dares lift his clay fist heavenward and question the Potter's plan? Not Job! To him, God's sovereignty was laced with His love.
Second, he counted on the promise of resurrection. Do you remember Job's immortal words?
"I know that my Redeemer lives,
And at the last . . . I shall see God." (Job 19:25–26)
He looked ahead, counting on his Lord's promise to make all things bright and beautiful in the life beyond. He knew that at that time, all pain, death, sorrow, tears, and adversity would be removed. Knowing that "hope does not disappoint" (Romans 5:5), he endured today by envisioning tomorrow.
Third, he confessed his own lack of understanding. What a relief this brings! Job didn't feel obligated to explain the "whys" of his situation. Listen to his admission of this fact:
"I know that You can do all things,
And that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted. . . .
Therefore I have declared that which I did not understand,
Things too wonderful [too deep] for me, which I did not know. . . .
I will ask You, and You instruct me." (Job 42:2–4)
He looked within, confessing his inability to put it all together. Resting his case with the righteous Judge, Job did not feel compelled to answer all the questions or unravel all the burning riddles. God would judge. The Judge would be right.
For you, adversity may seem 10,000 miles away. That's the way Job felt just a few minutes before the landslide.
Review these thoughts as you turn out the lights tonight, my friend, just in case. Consider Job's method for picking up the pieces.
Cloudless days are fine, but remember: some pottery gets pretty fragile setting in the sun day after day after day.
Excerpted from Come Before Winter and Share My Hope, Copyright © 1985, 1988, 1994 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.
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