Introduction
It’s been a hard ten days. My dad passed away a week and a half ago, and while I know he is at peace now and no longer suffering, the ache of his absence is still fresh.
And a short time ago—while I was writing this blog—I got a phone call informing me that my son was in a car accident. Thankfully, everyone involved walked away uninjured, but now he’ll have to deal with the emotional and physical fallout that comes with it. Right now, he’s worried that he’s ruined his life. I pray in time he’ll see that God can redeem even this.
Grief, worry, stress—it’s all been heavy.
This week, in the Daily Audio Bible, we began reading the book of Job. As much as I’ve felt the weight of these past days, Job’s terrible day near the beginning of the book was unimaginably worse. In a span of hours, he lost his livelihood and all of his children. One messenger after another brought devastating news until his entire world collapsed around him.
And yet, Job’s response was not despair or bitterness, but worship:
“…The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away;
Job 1:21 (NKJV)
Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
It is certainly much easier to bless the Lord when He gives than when He takes away. Honestly, that’s something I’ve been struggling with over the past 10 days. It’s hard to say “blessed be the name of the Lord” when I feel the sting of losing my dad and when my family faces unexpected challenges.
What Do We Take Away from Job’s Response?
For one thing, Job’s words remind us not to cling to any earthly thing more tightly than we cling to God. There is nothing wrong with loving others—especially our family and friends. In fact, when Jesus was asked what mattered most, He gave us two commands:
“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
Matthew 22:37–39 (NIV)
Loving God comes first. Loving others comes second. Both matter deeply. But if we hold onto people, possessions, or even our own health more tightly than we hold onto God, we set ourselves up for heartbreak—because those things can be taken away in an instant.
At the same time, Job’s story also reminds me of something else I’ve been writing about recently: the importance of cherishing the time we do have with those we love. Life is fragile. It can all change in a moment.
So while I must guard my heart against making idols of family, friends, or even health, I must also refuse to take those gifts for granted.
Living in the Tension
That’s the tension I feel right now: grieving the loss of my dad, worrying about my son, and yet still hearing Job’s voice across the centuries saying, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
I can’t say I’ve fully arrived there yet. But I want to. And maybe that’s the point. Faith isn’t about pretending loss doesn’t hurt—it’s about choosing, even in the pain, to trust the One who gives and takes away.
I think that’s a key lesson we should all learn from the book of Job.
Final Thoughts
So what does all this mean for us?
- It means hold fast to God above all else.
- It means love your family and friends deeply—but never forget they’re gifts, not gods.
- It means don’t take for granted the time you have with those you love.
And in the end, it means joining Job in the hard but holy confession:
“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Even in the loss. Even in the unknown. Even when it’s hard to say it like you mean it. Even in the pain.
Blessed be His name.