Today’s reading in Job really fits with yesterday’s post about watching the animals–rabbits, squirrels & birds. Because God goes into quite a lot of detail talking about various animals, it lets you know that it’s a very good thing to just spend some time noting such things. Even better, take one particular animal (like God does the sea monster), and note all the intricate details of it.
I picture God smiling as He’s talking about all this stuff… “Even angels run for cover when he surfaces, cowering before his tail-thrashing turbulence.” Just look at the quote in yesterday’s post. Peterson does make it poetic, but Job’s language was likely more poetic to him, than it would sound to us when it’s literally translated word-for-word.
We like the little note that goes with today’s Job: “God often deals with our problems and difficulties, not by removing them, but by giving us a greater vision of Himself. This may not remove the irritating circumstances, but it deepens our conviction that God knows what He is doing.”
Finally, while we’re on the subject of beautiful poetry, we must share this poem with you. It’s from our friend
, and we know she won’t mind us sharing it, because we both did the very same last year at this time–it’s one of those things that need repeating!
It hurts when the buds burst
Of course it hurts when buds burst.
Otherwise why would spring hesitate?
Why would all our fervent longing
be bound in the frozen bitter haze?
The bud was the casing all winter.
What is this new thing, which consumes and bursts?
Of course it hurts when buds burst,
pain for that which grows
and for that which envelops.
Of course it is hard when drops fall.
Trembling with fear they hang heavy,
clammer on the branch, swell and slide –
the weight pulls them down, how they cling.
Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided,
hard to feel the deep pulling and calling,
yet sit there and just quiver –
hard to want to stay
and to want to fall.
Then, at the point of agony and when all is beyond help,
the tree’s buds burst as if in jubilation,
then, when fear no longer exists,
the branch’s drops tumble in a shimmer,
forgetting that they were afraid of the new,
forgetting that they were fearful of the journey –
feeling for a second their greatest security,
resting in the trust
that creates the world.
(And she says it’s even more beautiful in Swedish, can you imagine?)