Praying with Job

(If this post stops in the middle of a sentence somewhere, I'm pretty sure it will be because I was struck by lightning as I wrote. Editing via biblical smiting. Very old school.)

I'm not sure how many pastors started their prayers today with these three words: "Fuck off, God." I did.

The thing is, I'm pretty sure this is not a trespass of the second commandment. (Pause while awaiting smiting. Nothing yet.) The way I read it, the second commandment is intended to protect God's name from abuse or misuse. So you're not supposed to use God's name to hurt other people, or use it like it doesn't matter ("like, oh my God, that is just the weirdest thing ever. Jesus."). For me, the second commandment is a reminder not to cheapen God's name or use it as a weapon. But it sure doesn't preclude total, base, even profane honesty to God in the midst of prayer. I sure hope it doesn't, anyway, because that kind of prayer is really, really necessary every once in awhile. As it was this morning.

Beloved did not get the job he interviewed for last week. This is, of course, not the end of the world. It wasn't a perfect dream job; he was definitely interested but not radically passionate about it. But you know, that doesn't really matter. All the stuff you tell yourself about how the job wasn't perfect, it had some problems, it wasn't exactly what you wanted...all you hear in your head is the fact that you've been rejected. In person. They met you, they listened to you, and they didn't choose you. Whether or not you really wanted the job does not matter, at least at first. Rejection sucks.

This on top of the anxiety issues he's been dealing with (which have been much better but had already flared up again this morning before the phone call about the job) is discouraging. He left his family. He left his friends. He left his job (technically, not yet, but that's the goal). He left his house. He left the place he's lived in for twenty years. He did all of this to follow me because I felt like this was the right place for me, this congregation, and for us - he left because I thought God had called us here. And you know what? I don't care if this is shitty theology or not: I think God owes him something for that. He pulled up stakes and came over here for me and frankly, I am a little pissed off at God for leaving him hanging like this. What more do you want, Ha Shem? Huh? TELL ME, you fickle, frustrating, silent being. I want to know exactly what more you want from him than you haven't taken already, because I have about had it with you. He deserves better than this. You are the one who brought us over here and you had DAMN WELL better do something about it because you CANNOT KEEP DOING THIS TO HIM.

That was my morning prayer. After the opening shot across the bow. I am taking Job as my inspiration today, and if God eventually tells me that I just have to look around and the world and suck it up and realize that I am not in charge, then fine. But I get to say these things out loud. I get to say them to God, who apparently is listening although there seems to be no indication of that at the moment, and the reason I believe I can do this (besides the fact that I have not yet been smited as I write) is because Job said so. Job said everything he could possibly say, and in the end, it was his complete honesty, not the pithy cliches of his friends, which God commends. So there.

I talked to Beloved after our staff meeting was done this morning, and he was already doing much better. The anxiety comes and goes, and at least for awhile, Xanax is a very good thing. He's figured out that exercise is a huge help in dealing with the anxiety when it starts rising, so he had gone on an hour-long walk after I left.

I am not quite as angry at the good Lord as I was this morning. I've never been terribly good at waiting for things, and I never seem to learn any better. I know there will be a day when we will look back and see how it all worked out as it should, but that doesn't really matter on days when it's not working out at all. I also realize that we made the decision to come here together, and it's not my fault for dragging us here - but again, that sort of logic doesn't mean much more than ashes when disappointment keeps finding you at every turn.

Still not smited. Or smote? So that's good. So we'll keep waiting, I suppose, and hope that the Job moments get further and further apart as time goes on. But every once in awhile, that's about all the kind of prayer you can summon up. And today is one of those days.