“Is not life on earth a drudgery? I have been assigned months of misery. I am filled with restlessness.” So declares Job in our first reading. It might describe some of us in February, the shortest and the longest month of the year. Job talks of wanting to sleep but tossing and turning all night. I had a couple nights like that just this past week.
Job had reason to be down and wonder if he would see happiness again. Without apparent reason he had suffered loss of all his possessions, the sudden death of his children, and physical afflictions. Our restlessness comes from pressures at work or home, dealing with injustice, economic uncertainty and terror. It can also come from sickness, aging, loneliness and fear of the unknown future.
Sometimes our response to such restlessness is anger at God. Why did God send me this burden? How can a God of love do this, allow this? In faith we know that God does not impose hurt or harm. He has however given us freedom that can lead to choices by ourselves or others that can complicate or burden. The Church teaches that such moments of doubt or challenge can be graced opportunities for spiritual healing and deepening of faith if we allow it.
How do you suppose Peter’s mother in law felt when on her sick bed Peter showed up with his friends including the revered Jesus? “Peter, why now when I don’t feel well?” Ever felt that way yourself? There is something instructive in how Jesus dealt with the situation. He went over to her; he did not keep his distance even though she had a fever. He grasped her hand; he was not afraid to touch her. He healed her and helped her up. She responded to his healing presence by serving others. That is how he can help us and we as lights of Christ can help others whatever makes us or them restless. The fact is that life contains some drudgery; we cannot escape from human frailty. Yet we are never alone. Christ is with us.
Suffering and sickness are facts of life. Jesus’ humanity allows us to know that God understands: “my God, my God, why have you abandoned me”, he agonized in his suffering. Jesus’ divinity allows us to see how we can cope with it all: “Father, not my will but yours be done”, he humbly proclaimed in the garden.
A woman was napping on the beach and was awakened by the sound of crying. Standing before her was a little girl around 5. The woman went to her: “are you lost? Here take my hand, we’ll find the lifeguard.” “No”, the little girl cried out backing away. The woman tried again. “Just walk beside me; we’ll find the lifeguard and your family.” They walked along with the girl keeping her distance. The lifeguard was happy to see them because a search for her had been underway. “Her name is Elizabeth”, he said. A man came running down the beach. “Is that your father”, the woman asked? “No,” shouted the little girl. The young man bent down and put his arm around her. “Elizabeth, are you all right?” She threw sand in his face. He brushed it aside, continuing to caress her. He lifted her up and carried her away. They stopped briefly as he washed the sand from his face. She splashed him, he splashed her. They both laughed. She found happiness again and felt safe in the company of her father.
We can become like Elizabeth on occasion, lost, frightened and angry. God loves us through it all. God is patient with us, waits for us, forgives us, comforts us and help us to laugh and feel safe again. But we must allow him to come close to us, to in a way put his arm around us through prayer, the sacraments and the instruments of his love, one another.
We can handle the drudgeries of earth when we in our hearts accept that God the Father loves us, God the Son died and rose for us and is present to us in the Holy Eucharist, and God the Holy Spirit is ever with us as guide and comforter. With such faith, despite our restless moments, we can confidently declare as did Job eventually that we will see happiness again, especially in the life to come.