The Man Who Wished His Words Were in a Book
His words give us hope even when we stand beside the grave of our family member
November was a tough month for me.
I delivered my sermons. Prayers for God’s comfort, I offered. At last, I stood beside the dug graves. When it was over, I fell across my bed and cried.
But then I reread an ancient man’s words, and they reignited the flame of faith within me.
It’s been a month since I did the commitment service for my brother-in-law. He was ninety-four, and his widow, my sister, is ninety-three. A week ago, I did the memorial and commitment services for my brother and his wife. They died over two years ago. Covit-19 demanded we wait till their four adult children could attend. They came from their homes in far-flung locations across our nation.
So, who is this ancient man, and what about his words?
The man is Job.
Job’s book is not about an imaginary character. He was a real person, who breathed the same air we breathe. The prophet Ezekiel listed him with Noah and Daniel as righteous men. Then too, James in the New Testament wrote of the endurance exhibited by the man, Job.
