A Chair is a Chair

When I was in college, one of my education professors cautioned us not to jump too quickly to a diagnosis of dyslexia in young readers. He went on to explain that up until a child learns to read, position doesn’t matter. For example, a chair is a chair, whether it is facing right or left or if it is upside down. One of my very first memories of reading was that I had written my name on the inside of the lid of my pencil box. It was a light blue cardboard box and I had taken the entire width to write “J o b I e”. (I think the “e” was backwards too.)
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So years later, when I read the book of Job, I felt a special connection, not only because I was a teenager when I read it (and I suspect every teenager thinks his/her life is the hardest, meanest, most stressful life ever lived), but also because I had this memory of my name being written “Jobie”. As an adult, after I had my first miscarriage, I again could relate to Job, only this time taking away the quote, “Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him.” (Job 13:15).

Recently, a friend of mine brought up Job. She said that she felt more like his friends than she would like. This year, through the course of our difficulties, I thought about Job again, but I realize my life does not even hold a candle to his. But after my friend’s comment, I got to thinking. It’s actually true that I have acted more like Job’s friends this year than Job. Early in the year, when I broke my leg and we lost our granddaughter, I was inwardly angry. And I spoke very arrogantly to a friend. And later in the summer, I apparently made a remark (or two) that another friend considered condescending.


My father-in-law is an alcoholic and he has been through many cycles of recovery and relapse. Often, during his recovery, he is arrogant and uncompassionate, as if to say, “If I can get my life right, so can everyone else”, and there is no grace in him. I’m guessing that’s pretty much how I have come off to people. I never meant it that way, but I think it’s been interpreted that way.

Nevertheless, that’s definitely NOT a god-like attitude. And if it takes hard times to produce the fruit of compassion in me, then let them come. I would much rather have hard things in my life, if that’s what it takes for me to reflect God’s heart, than to have everything come easy but be arrogant and condescending.