“He has alienated my family from me; my acquaintances are completely estranged from me. My relatives have gone away; my closest friends have forgotten me.” Job 19:13-14 NIV)
Job was experiencing a season of solitude. Though his few friends were physically near, his suffering set him apart. His tremendous pain (physical, emotional and spiritual) isolated him, cut him off from relationships he clearly treasured.
I’ve endured such a season myself. I have belly-crawled through months of devastation so ugly that my husband, my best friend and my family could not come near. They could not comfort, try as they might. The pain I was caught in created an impenetrable barrier; their condolences and counsel bounced off. Their well-meaning attempts to address my plight appeared trite.
Agony separates us, isolates us from the people and places we love. We feel forsaken like Job, even cast off by the Almighty. The dear, wretched soul said as much:
“Know that God has wronged me, He has drawn his net around me.” (Job 19:21 NIV)
“…for the hand of God has struck me.” (Job 19:21 NIV)
What is hard to see amidst deep suffering is how the hand of God is setting us aside for Himself. It feels like punishment, but to live set aside with Him is actually a tremendous and expensive privilege. Only God can penetrate the barrier that keeps others at bay. Only His Spirit can blow in and bring the sweet relief our soul needs. It is in the unbroken womb of suffering that we learn the enoughness of God’s presence. Outside the womb we are distracted, entertained and blissfully unaware of our utter dependancy. Suffering shouts our need and amplifies it’s fulfillment: a loving and gracious God.
“… Now for a little while you may have to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have some so that the proven genuineness of your faith – of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire – may result in praise, glory and honor when Christ is revealed.” (1 Peter 1:6-7 NIV)
Suffering reveals what we truly possess in Christ. It strips away the frippery from our life and we find that God is indeed, enough. Only, it’s hard to appreciate the benefit amidst the trauma. Like Job, we weep and moan, but as our pain finally retreats, we begin to understand the blessing of isolation. Post-ordeal, we have increased understanding of what we possess in terms of faith.
Lord, we do not like to suffer. Truly, everything in us balks against it. Yet in hindsight, we see how the womb of suffering bears down and produces faith that we cannot fabricate in an ordinary season. You do not abandon us to our pain. You pull us near and let others fall away. This is a privilege, not a punishment. We are blessed and not cursed. Crowded by Your presence and set apart from others. Remind us of this the next time pain comes crashing into our story. Help us remember how You meet us in isolated places. Strengthen our resolve in agonizing seasons as only You can. Amen.