The Feeling of Affliction

In the mind of most Christians, the book of Job goes something like this: God allowed Satan to do really bad things to Job. Then, things got better again and Job ended up with twice as much stuff as he had in the beginning.

This is the setting and context of the book, but it accounts for only about 5 percent of the total narrative. The main message is found in the other 95 percent of the book that lies between those two bookends beneath the discourses of Job and his friends as they struggle to make sense of the intense suffering of an apparently good man.

These men make a lot of long speeches about God and try to relate what they know about God to the troubles of Job. Their theology is basically sound but they still get everything all wrong. They reach faulty conclusions, not because their theology is inaccurate, but because it is inadequate. The message of Job is this: God is inscrutable. He is too big to fit into any of our theological boxes. No matter how well-constructed, they cannot prevent God from stepping outside their framework to surprise us.

Job and his friends gather to speak when God surprises them with Job’s terrible affliction. They are silenced when God surprises them again, by speaking for himself.

When God speaks, he doesn’t address any of their arguments, because these men were asking all the wrong questions. Instead, God poses a few questions of his own. Who are you and why are you questioning me? Have you given one moment’s thought to what the creator of this universe must be like? Why are you surprised that you don’t understand my actions? Like the audience watching a reporter floating in the flooded streets of Wayne, New Jersey, they’re astounded when God himself comes splashing through the scene.

When God speaks, the truth snaps into focus with stunning clarity. Job felt abandoned and alone, but he was every moment in the care and presence of the infinite and eternal Presence. The men who came to help Job ended up asking for Job’s help. However, many questions appear to remain unanswered for Job and his friends. There is no there is no indication that Job or his friends ever knew why these terrible things happened.

There are two other lessons in this book. The first is this: our affliction can be attributed to the work of both God and Satan. Satan, motivated by cruel hate for God and all that is his, intends to steal, kill, and destroy. But Satan is created by God and subject to God’s authority. He can do nothing except that which God allows, and God allows only that in which he is working for good.

When Joseph’s brothers sold him as a slave into Egypt, they were motivated only by jealousy. Years later, when he and his brothers were reconciled, Joseph told them the truth that although they meant to do harm, God used it to do good. Joseph and his entire family were saved from a terrible famine by the spiteful acts of Joseph’s brothers.

Although all of our affliction can be traced back to Satan and the sin that he introduced into our experience, he uses our affliction as an occasion to accuse us. He points to our misery as evidence that we’re not really loved by God. This lie is addressed by the other lesson in the book of Job: while it is true that “those who sow in tears shall reap in joy,” sowing and reaping are separated by a season of blistering heat, terrifying storms, and lots of waiting. The long, agonizing discourses of Job and his friends tell us about the mindset of men and women living between the sowing and the reaping.

In the long seasons of Christian suffering, men and women who are dearly loved by God feel weak, afraid, sad, depressed, and ashamed. They feel alone and abandoned by God. Sometimes, they just want to hide. Sometimes, they feel like they could die. When they pray, God doesn’t always answer their prayers immediately. They worry that he might not answer at all.

This truth reinforced throughout the Psalms.

The Feeling of Affliction in the Psalms

Weakness
Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak;
O Lord, heal me, for my bones are troubled. [Psalm 6:2]

My knees are weak through fasting, and
my flesh is feeble from lack of fatness. [Psalm 109:24]

Troubles do not create spiritual weakness, but reveal it. Troubles scatter our illusions of strength and reveal our complete dependence upon God. They show us the good sense of praying that God would give us this day our daily bread. We need God moment by moment.

In trials, our spiritual weakness is often compounded by physical weakness. This is certainly true of those whose trials consist of a struggle with disease and injuries. It is also true of those whose grief robs them of their appetite, sucking the health and strength from their very bones. In the worst of my own sorrows, I lost my appetite and lost almost 30 pounds.

The terrible enemy of our souls is at work against us in all of our troubles. We are no match for him. But God is also at work in all of our trials for our good. And if God be for us, who can be against us? Martin Luther said it well:

Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.
And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
One little word shall fell him.

Fear
The pangs of death surrounded me,
And the floods of ungodliness made me afraid. [Psalm 18:4]]

My heart is severely pained within me,
And the terrors of death have fallen upon me. [Psalm 55:4]

Fearfulness and trembling have come upon me,
And horror has overwhelmed me. [Psalm 55:5]

Faith is not an absence of doubt and fear, but a truth-based response to doubt and fear. In times of trouble, good people are afraid. God has provided everything that I need in my current affliction. I wrote some specific concerns in my journal six months ago and prayed that God would meet my need. I asked for a specific answer and did not get it. In fact, I can think of no good thing that happened in response to my prayers—nothing specific, anyway.

But none of the things I worried about happened. I don’t know why they didn’t happen or how God prevented them from happening. But somehow, in ways invisible to me, he took care of me. He takes care of me today. Now, I see him doing for me some of the things I asked. At this point, his response is just cream, or icing on the cake.

And yet, I’m still afraid. Although God provided in mysterious ways without answering my prayers directly and although I now see him at work in my life for my benefit, I find myself afraid that everything will unravel and that nothing will really work out for my good.

A little thing can send me into a deep attack of anxiety and depression. I find myself gripped, not by rational troubles, but irrational fears. It is as if the very demons of hell are suggesting all sorts of unhappy endings, threatening me, accusing me, and mocking me.

“If you were a real Christian, you wouldn’t feel so fearful. Some Christian you are!” Satan says this to discourage us.

“If you were doing what God wants, you wouldn’t feel this way.” Satan says this, trying to use our fears to turn us from the works that God has called us to. “Just give up,” he says.

“You’re just kidding yourself. Everything will come crashing down around your feet.” Satan works to bring a crippling uneasiness and dread.

I’m nearly sure the most commonly repeated commandment in scripture is, “Fear not.” There is much to be afraid of. Although the love of a mighty God means that we should never be afraid, we often are.


Sadness and Depression
How long shall I take counsel in my soul,
Having sorrow in my heart daily?
How long will my enemy be exalted over me? [Psalm 13:2]

For I am ready to fall,
And my sorrow is continually before me.
For I will declare my iniquity;
I will be in anguish over my sin. [Psalm 38:17 – 18]

I am weary with my crying;
My throat is dry;
My eyes fail while I wait for my God [Psalm 69:3]

I am weary with my groaning;
All night I make my bed swim;
I drench my couch with my tears. [Psalm 6:6]

My tears have been my food day and night,
While they continually say to me, "Where is your God?" [Psalm 42:3]

God’s own children will know long periods of great sorrow. Jesus himself was a man of sorrows, well-acquainted with grief. He wept for Lazarus, he mourned for Jerusalem, he was sorrowful and deeply distressed as he faced the penalty for our sins on the cross.

Joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit’s work in us, but sorrow is not a sin. Godly sorrow brings repentance, turning from sin to God. This is a good thing, turning us from death to life, from the source of sorrows to the source of all gladness.

But in the mean time, we cry until our throats and eyes are dry and our couch is drenched in tears. I am writing these words at 3 a.m. It has become a habit, when I find myself too sorrowful to sleep, to write in this book. I’m making a lot of progress on the book these days.


Shame
My dishonor is continually before me,
And the shame of my face has covered me, [Psalm 44:15]

You know my reproach and my shame and my dishonor;
All my adversaries are before you. [Psalm 69:19]

No one is proud of their weakness, fear, sadness, and depression. No one is proud to be floundering in troubles, especially when those troubles are of their own making. We feel ashamed. God’s own dearly loved children feel ashamed in times of trouble.

It’s now April, and I’ve been talking about my own troubles pretty openly about my troubles since last July. One friend, who had known of my own struggles with anxiety and depression, confessed just yesterday of his own struggles in the same arena. Shame silences us in our affliction, creating an isolation that magnifies our fear, sadness, and depression and that leaves us alone in our weakness.

Somehow, we have to find the courage to ignore our shame and speak truthfully about ourselves to those who love us.

Alone and Abandoned
Reproach has broken my heart and I am so sick.
And I looked for sympathy, but there was none,
And for comforters, but I found none. [Psalm 69:20]

And do not hide your face from Your servant,
For I am in distress; answer me quickly. [Psalm 69:17]

Be not far from me,
For trouble is near;
For there is none to help. [Psalm 22:11]

In times of trouble, I feel alone even in a crowd. I smile in response to the smiles of others, respond appropriately to their conversation, but there is no communion, no human connection. I am alone in my sorrows, no matter who is nearby.

God himself is nearby. His Spirit is in me. But I feel far from God. I’m haunted by fears that he has forgotten me or ceased doing good for me. I know these fears are from Satan, but that makes them no less fearful.

I speak the truth in faith: God is good. He that began a good work in me will see it through to completion. God is faithful. God does not change. He loves with an everlasting love. He who gave his son for me will not withhold any good thing from me.

On some occasions, the Holy Spirit surprises me with refreshing and reassuring affirmations of God’s unchanged affection for me. But much of the time, I feel alone and lonely.

Wanting a Place to Hide
In You, O LORD, I have taken refuge;
Let me never be ashamed;
In Your righteousness deliver me. [Psalm 31:1]

For in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion;
In the secret place of His tabernacle He shall hide me;
He shall set me high upon a rock. [Psalm 27:5]

Be my strong refuge,
To which I may resort continually;
You have given the commandment to save me,
For You are my rock and my fortress. [Psalm 71:3]

You are my hiding place;
You shall preserve me from trouble;
You shall surround me with songs of deliverance. [Psalm 32:7]

The strength and beauty of this poetry makes it easy to overlook the tragic and plain meaning of the words—there are times so bad that God’s dearly loved children just want a safe place to hide. The thought of God’s people looking for a place to hide might shock me if the feeling were not so familiar to me.

Some mornings, I wake up feeling ok. Then, as the reality of my circumstances and the familiar sorrow begins to settle on me, I can barely force myself to get ought of bed to face another day. I catch myself scowling and sighing. I think it was in response to this frame of mind that Augustus Toplady wrote the words,

Rock of Ages, cleft for me
Let me hide myself in thee

Waiting
Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am in distress;
My eye is wasted away from grief, my soul and my body. [Psalm 31:9]

Answer me speedily, O Lord;
My spirit fails! Do not hide Your face from me,
Lest I be like those who go down into the pit. [Psalm 143:7]

For my life is spent with grief,
And my years with sighing;
My strength fails because of my iniquity,
And my bones waste away. [Psalm 31:10]

“Waiting, I wait.” This is the literal translation of Psalm 40:1. Matthew Henry wrote that those who expect to find help from God should be fully confident of finding it. He is powerful enough to help the weakest and gracious enough to help the most unworthy. But they must add patience to their confidence because the relief that always comes does not always come quickly.

When God’s children face affliction, they sometimes face hours of tears and long days of waiting when our body, soul, and spirit waste away. For some of his dearly loved children, the affliction spans years or even a lifetime—those, for example, who are given the special task of raising a child with special needs or those with permanent problems with physical or mental health. Although God’s love is certain, his blessing is ours, his provision is adequate, and his grace is sufficient, there is plenty of trouble for each day of our lives.

Worried That God May Not Answer
Let me not be put to shame, O LORD,
For I call upon you; [Psalm 31:17]

O my God, in You I trust,
Do not let me be ashamed;
Do not let my enemies exult over me. [Psalm 25:2]

No matter how consistently God provides, no matter how many times the Holy Spirit comforts me with supernatural tokens of God’s affection for me, I still find myself tortured, at times, with the haunting fear that things won’t end well for me. Maybe it’s my own sin, maybe the work of Satan, or maybe both, but I worry that God won’t help me.

This completely unbiblical and therefore untrue thought leaves me worried that I’ll be put to shame. Everyone who knows me knows of my trust in God. If he doesn’t come through, I reason, they’ll wag their heads and say “Aha! Aha!” [Psalm 40:15]

I’m not saying it’s right to feel this way. I’m just saying that, in my worst moments, I do.