Throughout the Bible, many significant relationships usher in the next stage of God’s plan to redeem the world.

John the Baptist and Jesus epitomize a dynamic biblical relationship, leaving a historical and eternal mark.

John’s life and ministry are an opening act to Jesus’s.

As emails arrived in my inbox at the start of this new year, it was amusing and a bit overwhelming that one after the other, they asked to steal the sacred time my family enjoys on Saturday mornings.

Four sacred Sabbath Saturday mornings in a row could be gone just like that!

I was relieved when I brought this concern to my husband, and we narrowed it down to one meeting that was mandatory and released the others from our calendar, typing “skip” beside each one in our Google calendar.

This past Saturday, we enjoyed our usual slow, extra special Saturday breakfast where Benj and the kids make some kind of delicious baking, usually topped with berries, syrup and whipped cream, and then piled into our minivan for one of our “experience” Christmas gifts.

We cross-country skid in the beautiful winter snow for the rest of the day.

Like never before, I am reminded that the Holy Spirit is drawing us into sacred rhythms of life if only we would listen.

A mantra or word to frame the next season or year is sometimes chosen haphazardly and other times with great intention.

After significant stress from a season of two parents battling and one dying from cancer in 2022, I thoughtfully chose resilient to depict my posture in 2023.

The demands of this modern world leave little opportunity to be still, let alone quiet.

It is comforting to know that throughout biblical and church history, in what may have been simpler times, practices of silence and solitude were as necessary as they are for busy individuals, especially Christian leaders, today.

Jesus pursued these spaces for himself and his disciples, leaving no question that Christ-followers must execute them.

I interacted with the story of Job throughout my life as a faithful Sunday school student and church attendee; however, my first encounter with death and grief twelve years ago, when I had an early miscarriage, made it more personal.

The Sunday after my miscarriage, my tears fell in the hiddenness of this loss as I tried to sing along with words that echoed Job’s:

“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised" (Job 1:21b).

But walking through cancer journeys with both of my parents in the same season trumped any heartache I have experienced.

The first half of this blog post examines Job exegetically, while the second half offers personal reflections.

Suffering and loss are inevitable life experiences for individuals and communities.

While grief is reflected in a myriad of postures and expressions, a sense of longing is usually present).

Suffering, “a feeling of more than one can bear,” involves a longing that can translate to hope in the right environment.

But today’s drugs of choice, including common coping mechanisms of denial and illusions of control, only exacerbate pain.

The Bible provides a down-to-earth model to process difficult emotions and lift one out of the “pit of despair” (Psalm 40:2).

Before examining a familiar passage of lament and the impact these expressions have on our spiritual lives, ministries, and the modern world, a broad biblical survey reveals God’s heart in suffering.