This is another past blog post, originally posted in May of this year. Oops, I mean last year!
I have been reading the book of Job this last week or so. What struck me first, and this is really just a side note, was that even when God Himself is impressed by your righteousness, it’s still not enough. You still need a Redeemer.
However, what has really rung true for me is that even in the midst of Job’s pain, his sorrow, his suffering– both physical and mental (his friends didn’t really help), and his discouragement, he still knew that God was there and that He would deliver Job from his torment.
Some of us can relate. Man, I know I can. For several years I went through a period that I now call The Dark Times. Seriously, if you were given a chance to compare me now to me then, you just might not see much similarity.
I was depressed, yes. There were times I was even in despair. I lost nearly everything, eventually living in a motel, trying to make ends meet from week to week. There were nights that, if it hadn’t been for the kindness of friends, I would have had to sleep in my car.
It wasn’t because Satan wanted to test my righteousness. No. God was refining me. And it hurt.
I blamed Him, of course, along with my parents (my mother in particular), my jobs, my living situations, my landlords, roommates…you name it, I blamed it. Except myself.
In all this time, God was working me, shaping me. I railed at Him. I’d shake my fist at Him, telling Him that since He obviously didn’t care for me, then I’d forget about Him. Yet, I knew deep inside, where Truth doesn’t hide, that He did love me, and that no matter what I said or did to Him, He had a tight hold and He wasn’t going to let me go no matter how much I hurt Him. And, believe it or not, even in the midst of my anger at Him, it still comforted me.
When God finally revealed who He was in my life, I was at the end of my rope. Maybe I was just too tired to fight Him anymore. Maybe He had me right where He wanted me, right where I’d listen.
He used my mother, of all people. The one person I fought just as hard as I’d fought Him. This time, there was no fight. I didn’t go down swinging. This time I allowed myself to really examine my life and I knew that something had to change.
Long and short: I chose God.
So much power in those three words! I chose God. You know why? Because He chose me. Little me, yet He knew, through the blood of His Son, that I was worth it. He wouldn’t let me go, and I can’t think of a better end than to love and serve Him for eternity.