The storm was over. The throbbing pain of sore infested limbs had ended. The pounding sorrow of having lost family, fortune, and his fair name had subsided. The relentless waves of accusation after accusation by his miserable comforters had ceased. The whirlwind of God’s face to face correction had calmed. Certainly there had been weeping for a night, but joy was to come in the morning–the latter days of Job blessed by the LORD more than his beginning (Job 42:12).
And as I hover over the closing chapter of Job this morning what strikes me is that, when all was said and done . . . and done and said . . . Job had never ceased being the LORD’s.
After the LORD had spoken these words to Job, the Lord said to Eliphaz the Temanite: “My anger burns against you and against your two friends, for you have not spoken of me what is right, as My servant Job has. Now therefore take seven bulls and seven rams and go to My servant Job and offer up a burnt offering for yourselves. And My servant Job shall pray for you, for I will accept his prayer not to deal with you according to your folly. For you have not spoken of me what is right, as My servant Job has.”
(Job 42:7-8 ESV)
My servant Job. Repeated four times. The awesome God of creation making it clear for all who have ears to hear that, though Job’s frustration and vexation spilled over into arrogant demands for arbitration and, as such, required a much needed confrontation, Job was still God’s guy.
Though the clay had raised his voice to the Potter, he never stopped being a vessel molded in order to show the riches of the glory of the Molder (Rom.9:19-24). Though the crucible of suffering had revealed dross in his heart, it was so that the faithful Refiner might present Job “without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation”, shining as light in the world (Php. 2:14-15). Through it all, Job never stopped being God’s servant.
Even as I chew on that relationship, that of a servant, I’m reminded of what privilege it is to be a servant of God.
For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.
(Psalm 84:10 ESV)
But then, I remember too that we have been counted as so much more than servants.
“No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from My Father I have made known to you.” ~ Jesus
(John 15:15 ESV)
Not just servants, friends.
And not even just friends but so much more. Redeemed that we might receive adoption as His children. God having sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying “Abba Father!” Thus, no longer slaves–through we gladly submit and serve as such–but instead a son, a daughter, and, as such, an heir through God (Galatians 4:6-7)
Always His servant. Forever friended by Jesus. Never not being owned as a child of God. Even through the storm. Even when we go where we shouldn’t. Even when we cross the line.
Our God promising to complete the work He has begun in us (Php. 1:6).
Our God determined to raise up people purchased by the blood Jesus, and fashioned into the likeness of Jesus, so that He might proclaim, “Have you consider My servant!”
Only by His grace. Always for His glory.