LET THE POOR GUY VENT!

 

My devotional  Bible reading has brought me again to the book of Job. I can’t say I welcomed it. But once I got into it again, I gained even more insight than in previous readings. This time it was not the feelings of my own grief and pain that moved me, but those of a dear friend whose physical suffering is compounded by the stress of trying circumstances. I found myself not in the place of Job, but that of his friends who had the responsibility to comfort him. I had the opportunity to do it right! To avoid the egregious errors of Job’s friends.

During my widowhood, I have been blessed by many friends who were sensitive and frankly admitted that they couldn’t imagine how I felt. Yet a few others (even, surprisingly, some widows) couldn’t resist giving advice, even rebuke, when I vented my honest feelings. That’s what Job experienced after he broke his seven-day silence and vented his emotions (Chapter 3). Eliphaz rebuked him with pious platitudes and unfair innuendos. In Job’s response (Chaps. 6-7), he admits that his words were rash (6:3), but can’t a suffering man vent his emotions? How can he do otherwise?

Then Job answered, "Oh that my grief were actually weighed And laid in the balances together with my calamity! "For then it would be heavier than the sand of the seas; Therefore my words have been rash. (Job 6:1-3)

Does the wild donkey bray over his grass, Or does the ox low over his fodder? Can something tasteless be eaten without salt, Or is there any taste in the white of an egg? (Job 6:5-6)

When all is well, there’s no reason to complain. The wild donkey eating grass is content, as is the ox feeding at the trough. Someone who is still enjoying the companionship of a spouse can’t know what it’s like to be without one, to be alone as only a widowed person is alone. That’s why it is painful to get spiritual advice from a happily married person. The very sight of couples--shopping together, in church together, working in the yard together--is painful to a widower. To then be told how he should handle it is like--pardon the cliché--rubbing salt in the wound.

And speaking of salt, “Can something tasteless be eaten without salt?” Can the grieving person bear to consume his unsavory circumstances without the “salt” of expressing that grief? Doesn’t he need to vent it as forcefully and eloquently as he knows how? 

A year and a half into my widowhood, I still feel the pain of loneliness. Yet God has brought me into the suffering of others, suffering much greater than mine. And now I have to admit, “I don’t know what it feels like, brother! You have my prayers.” And if you need to vent, go right ahead! That I do understand.