A Paradox to Cling To: God’s Sovereignty and Goodness
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I must let you know that the Sabeans attacked and stole all your oxen and female donkeys. Also, all your servants except for me were killed.”
The Sabeans’ trouble turned out to be just the beginning of the bad news. My first response would have been, “Why, Lord?”
Not only did the Sabeans kill the animals, but fire straight from above burned Job's sheep and more servants into oblivion. The Chaldeans raided all 3,000 of his camels (what do you even do with that many camels?) and murdered other servants. The final calamity swept up from the wilderness, a great wind sent to collapse the house holding a sibling feast. It would be their last, as Job’s ten children perished in the rubble.
“Job woke the greatest man in the east at sunrise and had lost everything by nightfall.”
Job woke the greatest man in the east at sunrise and had lost everything by nightfall. And yet he didn’t blame the Lord. Instead, he worshipped amidst what appeared to be pointless pain. He knew the dealings were permitted by God’s own hand.
A Heavenly Conversation
Job didn’t know, however, the details of the conversation behind the curtains of the heavenlies. An agreement had been made between the Lord of Hosts and Satan. God gave permission for these travesties toward his servant. Job couldn’t see the hedge of protection built around him, intentionally lifted by the Sovereign Creator.
This man showed the precious proof of his faith in chapter one, but more was coming, including boils all over his skin, unhelpful friends, and a wife who would demand he, “curse God and die.”
So Much Power
The layers of Job’s story have fascinated me since I first read the dozens of questions God asked Job in the last few chapters. The rhetorical drilling gives me chills. God answers in the whirlwind with a whirlwind of questions:
“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding.
Who determined its measurements—surely you know!
Or who stretched the line upon it?
On what were its bases sunk,
or who laid its cornerstone,
when the morning stars sang together
and all the sons of God shouted for joy?
“Or who shut in the sea with doors
when it burst out from the womb,
when I made clouds its garment
and thick darkness its swaddling band,
and prescribed limits for it
and set bars and doors,
and said, ‘Thus far shall you come, and no farther,
and here shall your proud waves be stayed’? (Job 38:4-11)
Job, who feeds the lions? Who strikes lightening? Who can walk in the recesses of the deep? Who commands the mornings?
Only the all-powerful God can.
Even though I’ve never had a child die or Sabeans steal my livestock, I know Job-ish hardships occur for all believers. Jesus said, “In the world you will have tribulation” (John 16:33). Cancer, strained relationships, house fires, miscarriage—we only see the shape of these trials from our earthside point of view. My baby nephew is suffering through an ongoing series of brain seizures. We don’t know what his future will look like. We don’t know why God allowed this to happen.
When you hold your own trial up to this list of questions, do you find comfort in the sovereignty of God? We might not be able to articulate God’s why, but we can trust his character.
I’m thankful for the stunning strength of the Lord in the book of Job. The words are dramatic and gut-punching. Since creation sings of his power and his sovereign hand—from the morning dewdrops to the Behemoth’s cedar tail—we can conclude that he was sovereign too over Job's suffering. He didn’t suffer in vain. There was a mighty purpose.
But there’s something else buried in Job’s testimony, which I didn’t see until I studied the book of James.
So Much Mercy
“As an example of suffering and patience, brothers, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. Behold, we consider those blessed who remained steadfast. You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful.” (James 5:10–11)
Compassionate and merciful? Of all the words to put in inspired Scripture, those are the chosen themes here in relation to the Lord’s purpose.
Think back on all of Job’s story. God allowed Satan to move the Chaldeans and Sabeans to cruelty toward Job, and he is merciful. The Lord said it was okay if the Devil burned up Job’s sheep, and he is compassionate. Our blessed Lord who gave seven sons and three daughters to Job took away those lives, and he had a purpose. God gave permission to Satan to hurt Job’s body, and God is gracious. His power is clear, but his mercy, too, is somehow hidden in these wondrous works.
At such a paradox I find I must, like Job, put my hand over my mouth in stunned worship and submission. I have nothing to say.
Trusting Both
Oh, suffering brother and sister, do you question God’s purposes?
Hear his questions displaying his perspective: Do you command the eagle’s flight pattern? Have you seen the storehouses of hail? Do you coordinate the constellations? Can you see the compassion flowing from your Father's heart?
“At such a paradox I find I must, like Job, put my hand over my mouth in stunned worship and submission. I have nothing to say.”
Though God restored Job’s fortunes and family size, there was irreplaceable earthly loss. His camels were replaced twofold, but he lost those specific sons and daughters. Yet still he worshipped the Lord. May we too be steadfast, patient, and blessed in our suffering. The only way we can hold steady is to be sure of both God’s power and his compassion. All his works are good, and the intention of his will is always kind (Eph. 1).
O God, insolent men have risen up against me;
a band of ruthless men seeks my life,
and they do not set you before them.
But you, O LORD, are a God merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. (Ps. 86:14–15)
Our precious people and possessions could be snatched away between now and sundown, but we can say but you, O Lord. Not only are you a God of power, but your mercy and compassion are inseparable from your un-thwarted plans.
Soon enough, we’ll be in the presence of Christ. Then we’ll know with full assurance—along with Job—that in all things God is sovereign and good. What a glorious day it will be when our faith is made sight.
Until then, may we bless the name of the Lord who gives and takes away.
Abigail Rehmert writes to “ponder anew what the Almighty can do.” She is a pastor’s wife, blessed to serve alongside her husband in Idaho. Her newest role involves nurturing their sweet son, Judah. Abigail enjoys opportunities to host, teach, and savor audiobooks (and espresso). You can find more of her word collection at abigailrehmert.com and on Instagram @atime2write.