Job had lost everything and all he could do was weep and sing the blues. He had a constant catch in his voice. He asked his friends for sympathy and for God to give Him a chance to catch his breath, neither of which he ever seemed to get. He was desperately waiting for something to change.<\/p>\n
Waiting, being patient, enduring, and being steadfast in the face of persistent suffering is a difficult test to be in. We all struggle with it; even now most of us are waiting for something to change, something to happen. We beseech God to do it quickly. We are in a hurry, but He is not.<\/p>\n
Dutch evangelist Corrie ten Boom said, “Don’t bother to give God instructions; just report for duty.”<\/p>\n
A.B. Simpson, a 19th-century preacher, said:<\/p>\n
Beloved, have you ever thought that someday you will not have anything to try you, or anyone to vex you again? There will be no opportunity in heaven to learn or to show the spirit of patience, forbearance, and longsuffering. If you are to practice these things, it must be now.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Ok, painfully true but it is the right attitude, one we all need to embrace.<\/p>\n
“LORD, we need help. Help us to see that each day is an opportunity to learn to wait on You with patience. Help us not to waste those opportunities today.”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n
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Job 30 KJV<\/p>\n\n\n\n
1<\/sup>\u00a0But now\u00a0they that are\u00a0<\/em>younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock.\u00a0\u00a02<\/sup>\u00a0Yea, whereto\u00a0might\u00a0<\/em>the strength of their hands\u00a0profit\u00a0<\/em>me, in whom old age was perished?\u00a03<\/sup>\u00a0For want and famine\u00a0they were\u00a0<\/em>solitary; fleeing into the wilderness in former time desolate and waste.\u00a0\u00a04<\/sup>\u00a0Who cut up mallows by the bushes, and juniper roots\u00a0for\u00a0<\/em>their meat.\u00a05<\/sup> They were driven forth from among\u00a0men\u00a0<\/em>, (they cried after them as\u00a0after\u00a0<\/em>a thief;)\u00a06<\/sup>\u00a0To dwell in the clifts of the valleys,\u00a0in\u00a0<\/em>caves of the earth, and\u00a0in\u00a0<\/em>the rocks.\u00a0\u00a07<\/sup>\u00a0Among the bushes they brayed; under the nettles they were gathered together.\u00a08<\/sup>\u00a0They were<\/em>children of fools, yea, children of base men: they were viler than the earth.\u00a0\u00a09<\/sup>\u00a0And now am I their song, yea, I am their byword.\u00a010<\/sup>\u00a0They abhor me, they flee far from me, and spare not to spit in my face.\u00a0\u00a011<\/sup>\u00a0Because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me, they have also let loose the bridle before me.\u00a012<\/sup>\u00a0Upon\u00a0my\u00a0<\/em>right\u00a0hand\u00a0<\/em>rise the youth; they push away my feet, and they raise up against me the ways of their destruction.\u00a013<\/sup>\u00a0They mar my path, they set forward my calamity, they have no helper.\u00a014<\/sup>\u00a0They came\u00a0upon me\u00a0<\/em>as a wide breaking in\u00a0of waters:\u00a0<\/em>in the desolation they rolled themselves\u00a0upon me\u00a0<\/em>. 15<\/sup>\u00a0Terrors are turned upon me: they pursue my soul as the wind: and my welfare passeth away as a cloud.\u00a0\u00a016<\/sup>\u00a0And now my soul is poured out upon me; the days of affliction have taken hold upon me.\u00a017<\/sup>\u00a0My bones are pierced in me in the night season: and my sinews take no rest.\u00a018<\/sup>\u00a0By the great force\u00a0of my disease\u00a0<\/em>is my garment changed: it bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.\u00a019<\/sup>\u00a0He hath cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes.\u00a020<\/sup>\u00a0I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me: I stand up, and thou regardest me\u00a0not\u00a0<\/em>.\u00a021<\/sup>\u00a0Thou art become cruel to me: with thy strong hand thou opposest thyself against me.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a022<\/sup>\u00a0Thou liftest me up to the wind; thou causest me to ride\u00a0upon it\u00a0<\/em>, and dissolvest my substance.\u00a0\u00a023<\/sup>\u00a0For I know\u00a0that\u00a0<\/em>thou wilt bring me\u00a0to\u00a0<\/em>death, and\u00a0to\u00a0<\/em>the house appointed for all living.\u00a024<\/sup>\u00a0Howbeit he will not stretch out\u00a0his\u00a0<\/em>hand to the grave, though they cry in his destruction.\u00a0\u00a025<\/sup>Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was\u00a0not\u00a0<\/em>my soul grieved for the poor?\u00a026<\/sup>\u00a0When I looked for good, then evil came\u00a0unto me:\u00a0<\/em>and when I waited for light, there came darkness.\u00a027<\/sup>\u00a0My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me.\u00a028<\/sup>\u00a0I went mourning without the sun: I stood up,\u00a0and\u00a0<\/em>I cried in the congregation.\u00a029<\/sup>\u00a0I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.\u00a0\u00a030<\/sup>\u00a0My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat.\u00a031<\/sup>\u00a0My harp also is\u00a0turned\u00a0<\/em>to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Job had lost everything and all he could do was weep and sing the blues. He had a constant catch in his voice. He asked his friends for sympathy and for God to give Him a chance to catch his breath, neither of which he ever seemed to get. He was desperately waiting for something […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7649"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7649"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7649\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":16470,"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7649\/revisions\/16470"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7649"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7649"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/packinghouseredlands.org\/devotional\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7649"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}