When Job first heard the news that day

I’ve been a little neglectful in posting any poetry lately because I’ve been lacking the mental energy for creativity. The reason is a happy one though: we’re anticipating the arrival of a new baby in the next month or so— (a sixth son, for those who like to be astounded by the amount of boys we are raising!). Turns out I’d rather nap than write these days! New poems may be rather sparse over the next few months, but I plan to be back again when I’m able.

Late last September one of the little boys discovered this enormous caterpillar near our front door. It hung around and finally made a cocoon, which seemed completely lifeless all winter and spring. (Next pic below!)

I found this poem which I wrote some months ago after reading the book of Job. It’s meant to have an anticlimactic sort of feeling—Job’s troubles are mounting, and Satan is hoping for an explosive rebellion against the Lord’s hard providence, but it never happens. Instead, Job bows under the sovereign hand of God.

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When Job first heard the news that day
(While Satan held his breath) —
Your donkeys stolen, oxen too,
Your servants killed, except for one
With panic in his eyes—

When Job first heard the news that day—
Consuming fire falling,
Your sheep were burned, yes, all of them,
Your servants too, except for one
With smoking clothes and skin—

When Job first heard the news that day—
Chaldeans, bands of them,
Your camels have been led away,
Your servants slain, except for one
Who hardly has escaped—

When Job first heard the news that day—
Your children all were feasting,
A whirlwind struck the house with force,
They all are dead, except for me
I’ve come alone to tell—

When finally the bad news ceased
(And Satan held his breath) —
Job tore his robe and shaved his beard.
Pressing his face into the ground
He worshipped and he said:

(As Satan clenched his fist) —
Naked I have come and
Naked I will go —
God has given, God has taken.
Blessed be his name. 

All those months nothing seemed to change. When warmer weather arrived and nothing changed, we wondered if something had gone wrong and it had died. Then, one morning in late June, we walked out the front door to see this— an enormous Crecopia moth, North America’s largest native moth. I’m no moth fan, but it’s hard to deny the beauty of this creature! (Lots of lessons to be found here as well, and I’m sure inspiration for a poem…someday.)