Hallmark | Wayfarer

But now trouble comes to you, and you are discouraged;
it strikes you, and you are dismayed.
Should not your piety be your confidence
and your blameless ways your hope?
Job 4:5-6 (NIV)

Along my life journey, I have noticed that humanity has a certain base belief that is woven into the fabric of our DNA. We inherently believe that doing good is a good thing and doing bad is a bad thing. Pardon me for borrowing from a Hollywood movie title, but I often think of this as “The Santa Clause” because in Santa we boil it down to its pure form and feed it to our children. If you’re naughty you get coal in your stocking. If you’re good you get presents, or as comedian David Sedaris puts it, “if you’re good and live in America, you pretty much get whatever it is you want.”

As an adult, I’ve observed that the Santa Clause often gets hard-wired within us. If we live right and do good things then life should be filled with goodness and blessing. If we are selfish and a bad person then certainly we will reap the consequences of our self-centeredness and bad actions.

In today’s chapter, we hear from Eli, the first of Job’s three friends who have been sitting with him and contemplating the terrible suffering Job is experiencing. Eli begins and jumps right into Santa Clause world view. He recounts how Job, in his goodness, has encouraged and counseled others in their troubles, so Job should take a bit of his own advice not that he’s on the other side of the troubles. Cheer up!

Eli then recounts his observations of the Santa Clause principle at work. God blesses the upright and doesn’t kill them, while evil doers reap trouble and God wipes them out. As I read, I couldn’t help but wonder if Eli is trying to say: “You’re a good guy. God won’t let you die” while the subtext of his words is: “People don’t suffer like this unless they brought it on themselves.“

After this, Eli goes into the classic “I had a dream about you,” which I consider a variation of “God told me to tell you.” Dreams, visions, and words from the Spirit-realm carry an air of authority from beyond. The messenger isn’t responsible. Eli isn’t source. He is simply retelling what the “hushed voice” in his dream told him. I have written before about my thoughts on dealing with “God told me to tell you” statements. It’s not that I don’t believe in the prophetic, because I certainly do. I have a number of experiences with the prophetic that have been mind-blowing. I have also had experiences with those playing fast and loose with the “God told me” card. I have always found that a certain wisdom, discernment, and openness is required.

Today’s chapter are just the first half of Eli’s words for Job. Tomorrow’s chapter will contain the second half. Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel that he’s wading in the shallow end. Along my own life journey there have been stretches and experiences in which a Hallmark card poetry and “buck up li’l camper” platitudes feel like salt being rubbed into my wounds. While there is truth in the Santa Clause view of life (that’s why we use it with children), it certainly falls far short of addressing the messy circumstances we experience along this life journey.

In the quiet this morning, I can’t point the finger at Eli without three fingers pointing back at me. I am mindful of my own terrible Eli-like attempts at encouragement to others over the years. I’m embarrassed by some of the silly, shallow, and unhelpful things I know that I’ve said to people in the worst moments of their lives. The Sage of Ecclesiastes wrote that there is a time to speak and a time to be silent. The further I get in on this earthly journey, the more I embrace the latter. I wonder sometimes if simple, loving presence with open ears, an open heart, and a willing spirit aren’t the best thing for those suffering like Job. There are moments when keeping my mouth shut might just be the most gracious thing I do for others.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

“Why are you crying, Hannah?” Elkanah would ask. “Why aren’t you eating? Why be downhearted just because you have no children? You have me—isn’t that better than having ten sons?” 1 Samuel 1:8 (NLT)

Trust me when I say that this was NOT the right thing for Elkanah to say to his wife as she struggled with infertility.

In my experience, men have a traditionally difficult time understanding women in general. When it comes to the depth of pain women experience when trying, and not succeeding, to conceive or bear children the complexity of thoughts and emotions becomes almost unfathomable for a man to understand or appreciate. Elkanah’s attempt at encouraging his wife, while I’m sure delivered from the best of intentions, only served to make Hannah feel more isolated and alone. His question convinced her that he did not have a clue what she was going through. As I read Elkanah’s question a second time, I imagined that I heard Hannah’s unspoken thought as it poured out of the anger and rage of her emotional pain: “No, Elkanah, at this moment I believe ONE son would be better than TEN of you!”

Walking with a spouse through the dark valley of something as emotionally wounding as infertility requires a tremendous amount of patience, compassion, courage, and perseverance. This is why many marriages to not survive the journey. I believe that no man is truly prepared for this journey and task. A pre-game pep talk doesn’t help. A pat on the back or a Hallmark card doesn’t help. Weak attempts at cheering her up doesn’t help.

Be present in the pain. Share the pain. Step into the pain with her. It is not easy. It is not comfortable. It is fraught with confusing moments. Even this will not help take the pain away and may not even make things better. She will, however, not be alone in the valley. There is hope in that.