Anyone referring to the “patience of Job” must have skipped some pages while reading the book of Job. Job lost everything—his children, his possessions, and his health. In his great suffering, he questioned God quite sternly.

“Therefore I will not restrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.” (Job 7:11) 

Trials come.

The unthinkable happens. The unbearable lands on our doorstep. We get the news or the call no one ever wants to receive. Tragedy hits with a blow that knocks not only the breath out of us but the life out of us too. Our hearts break so much that they physically hurt.

It is tempting in those times to turn our backs on God, to blame Him, and to be angry. How can a loving God allow such terrible things to happen to good people—people who serve Him, who love Him with their whole hearts?

Let Your Emotions Out.

Scream, jump up and down, gnash your teeth, cry, punch something, throw axes, target practice with an AR. There have been times in these last 10 months since my 21-year-old son, Bradley, died in a freak skateboard accident, that I have wanted to do all that–sometimes all at once.

I have learned that it’s okay to let God know. He can take my anger, my frustration, my hurt, my despair, my brokenness, my sorrow, all of it. In fact, He is the only one who can do anything about it. Though still hard, He can help me bear it.

The Lord Is Faithful.

The Lord shows us patience and love, and brings healing to our bodies and our hearts. His best comfort for Job was His presence, and the Bible says He brought more than total restoration to Job’s life. I still don’t quite understand because Job lost his children. But the Bible says it, so I believe it. Only God.

No matter what His children go through, God is always there for us. If we will trust and lean on Him, we can receive His unimaginable comfort in our worst pain. I have experienced His peaceful presence that is beyond all comprehension in the midst of the greatest storm of my life, losing my child. Truly, peace is not the absence of the storm, but the presence of Jesus in the storm.

Step Out of the Boat.

I’m reminded of Peter, who often gets a bum rap. He is remembered for taking his eyes off Jesus while walking on the water in the storm. Peter took a step of faith that the other disciples were afraid to. He got out of the boat. They missed the blessing of walking on the stormy sea while, eyes locked, Peter felt the presence of the Master and what it meant to be totally held by Him. That has to be one of the most intimate experiences of Jesus with a human during His time on earth.

God’s Got You.

God is sovereign. Words cannot describe His love. He knows about suffering and understands about losing a son. He gave His only Son Jesus to die a painful death in our place.

I know that Bradley was truly always God’s and never ours, and on November 10, 2021, He took Bradley home to live in Paradise with Him in eternal bliss and joy. Scott and I were blessed to be Bradley’s parents for the 21 years that he was on this earth. As his grave marker reads, he is “a wild-at-heart adventurer now home safe in the arms of Jesus.” This truth gives me peace. One fine day I will see my Jesus in Glory and be reunited with Bradley and my parents too.

The Journey Home Continues.

Until then, the storms of life are always raging. As I submerge myself now with life and serving my Lord; in my peripheral vision, I see hideous clouds of a monster storm swirling as the days of Fall come and the anniversary of Bradley’s death approaches. Soon after will come the painful holidays with Brad’s empty chair and without his hugs and laughter and his “helping” me in the kitchen. Then will come year two. Moms who have walked my journey tell me that year two is worse than year one. How can that possibly be?

The Anchor Holds.

I love the old prayer hymn, Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. In a support group meeting last night, I was reminded of this part of the prayer that sings such hope directly into my heart.

“Oh, to grace how great a debtor, Daily I’m constrained to be.
Let Thy goodness like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love.
Here’s my heart, oh take and seal it. Seal it for Thy courts above.”

A fetter is a leg shackle like a prisoner might wear. I fully realize that I desperately need Jesus to hold me fast to Him. My strength alone is not enough to anchor me. The only way I can survive and walk the rest of the stormy journey chosen for me will be in the peaceful presence of my Jesus, eyes locked, being held completely by the One who loves me most. My Jesus.

Hebrews 6:19-20 We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf… 

Are you hurt? Are you angry? Do you feel like having a Job Chapter 7 conversation with God? I promise you He can take it. He loves you like no other. Has He provided you peace that passes all understanding and strength for your journey? Please share your comments, experiences, observations, and encouragement for our readers.

Thank you for reading and sharing my blog post today. May God hold you close through the storms of life, and bless you continually with His love, mercy, and grace. Till Jesus comes to get us or we go to Him, let us cling with all our might to the hope that we profess for He who promised is faithful. (Heb. 10:23)