It’s wisdom literature — sometimes I forget that. That Proverbs is wisdom literature is a gimme. So too with Ecclesiastes and the Psalms. All of these clearly providing divine insight for the meaning and maneuvering of life. That Song of Songs is wisdom literature might be less intuitive because it’s more focused on celebrating one specific facet of life, a facet which foreshadows the greatest love story ever written. But Job? That Job is wisdom literature is sometimes lost when I read it. Maybe because the facet of life it focuses on can hit so close to home and can be so overwhelming. Hard to learn from suffering when you are in the midst of suffering. Hard to understand what God’s purposes are when you’re wondering where God’s presence is.

But wisdom literature it is. And so, amidst the destruction, the depression, and the dialogue that carries Job’s storyline, you shouldn’t be surprised if along the way there’s a gem or two worth taking note of. Something to observe about God. A diamond amidst of all that’s so rough, worthy of being added to wisdom’s treasure chest, kept for future reference, reflection, and rejoicing. Came upon one of those this morning.

After this, Job began to speak and cursed the day he was born.
He said:
May the day I was born perish,
and the night that said, “A boy is conceived.”
If only that day had turned to darkness!
May God above not care about it, or light shine on it.
May darkness and gloom reclaim it, and a cloud settle over it.
May what darkens the day terrify it.
If only darkness had taken that night away!
May it not appear among the days of the year
or be listed in the calendar.

(Job 3:1-6 CSB)

Job’s at the end of his rope. Though he would still bless God after losing fortune and family (ch. 1), and though he would not sin and curse God under the adversity of severe bodily harm (ch 2.), in chapter three, he’s done! Curse the day of my birth. Strike it from the annals of history. Oh, that the day had never been marked on any calendar. If this is what I was born for, then I wish I’d never been born.

Yet in the midst of Job’s lament, a gem. A truth about God to be observed. A divine reality to be pondered. Something worth chewing on. A word of wisdom. Actually, two words of wisdom. God cares.

May God above not care about it . . .

Job’s discourse is calling for things that are true to not be true. That the night he was born, didn’t happen. That the light that was seen by a small baby on that day had never occurred, but had been enveloped with the darkness of a miscarriage or a still birth (3:11, 16). But the night did happen. The light did shine. And so when Job despairingly wishes that God above did not care about the day he was born, it’s because God did care. God cared about the day Job was born.

He who fearfully and wonderfully formed Job in the womb cared when Job emerged from the womb. God who is Sovereign and had determined Jobs days before even one came to pass was deeply, personally invested in that day when Job breathed his first breath. And God would continue to care until Job breathed his last. Did God care amidst Job’s suffering. O yes, He cares.

There’s a hymn that comes to mind as I meditate this morning on these two words of wisdom. A hymn that has come to mind at least 8 times during my morning meals over the past 6+ years, first appearing in one of these musings shortly after my wife went home to be with the Lord. A sacred song able to comfort the storm-tossed soul.

Does Jesus care when my heart is pained
Too deeply for mirth or song;
As the burdens press, and the cares distress,
And the way grows weary and long?

Does Jesus care when my way is dark
With a nameless dread and fear?
As the daylight fades into deep night shades,
Does He care enough to be near?

Does Jesus care when I’ve tried and failed
To resist some temptation strong;
When for my deep grief I find no relief,
Though my tears flow all the night long?

Does Jesus care when I’ve said goodbye
To the dearest on earth to me,
And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks
Is it aught to Him? does He see?

O yes, He cares, I know He cares!
His heart is touched with my grief;
When the days are weary, the long nights dreary,
I know my Savior cares.

(Frank Ellsworth Graeff, 1901)

Job, in His sorrow, wished that the day of his birth had never happened, that God hadn’t cared about that day. But God did.

Does God care? O yes, He cares!

Pouring out His abundant, all-sustaining grace, even as we seek to walk in wisdom for His all-deserving, everlasting glory.

Amen?