Bright and Better Days, pt. 1

I know you have been waiting for the continuation of the story of Job, right? Well, I hope so, because we left him sitting in the dust, ashes to be exact, scraping his oozing, broken body with a shard of pottery. Not the most pleasant of things, I am sure. Then along came Job's three friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. These three guys met up and decided that they would go and comfort their mutual friend Job. I was trying to imagine what it would have been like to be one of these guys, because the Word says that when they were still a long way off, they saw Job's condition, and they lifted up their voices and wept. When they finally reached Job, they sat with him, silently mourning for seven days. Not many people in today's society would stop for even five minutes to offer condolences or to help those who were broken, but these men stayed a week by Job's side. Without even saying a word. Now that, is friendship. But I must continue now. After this week of silence, Job spoke what was on his heart. I wish that I knew how he had spoken these words-- whether he whispered them in anguish or spat them out of his heart like bitter water, but alas, I do not. The words that flew from his lips were words of a curse--a curse pronounced upon the day of his birth. For Job said: "Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said, there is a man child conceived. Let that day be darkness; let not God regard it from above, neither let the light shine upon it. Let darkness and the shadow of death stain it; let a cloud dwell upon it; let the blackness of the day terrify it. As for that night, let darkness seize upon it; let it not be joined unto the days of the year, let it not come into the number of the months. Lo, let that night be solitary, let no joyful voice come therein." So deep was the pain of the man named Job that he rued the day he was born. I would like to say that I understood and could sympathize with Job over the depth of his pain, but I doubt that any person now or then could fully understand. But he cursed, as some days I feel like doing; he was angry at the circumstance and the pain that he was experiencing--and that I am as well. There is so much to learn from this man named Job, so much that I do not yet comprehend or understand. And so I see I must end my day again with an half of a story, and a prayer that I should not remain hardened by the scarring wounds of this world, but rather look beyond to the blessings on the horizon--bright and better days.