Braggarts are brought low. Recently, I boasted to my students, many of whom had missed class several days due to illness, that I’d made it through winter without even so much as a head cold. Bam! The next morning I awoke feeling terrible.
My sickness worsened, forcing me to do what I rarely do: See a doctor. He examined me and said, “You are suffering from a virus with flu-like symptoms — chills and fever, scratchy throat, incessant coughing, clogged sinus cavities, watery eyes, and nausea. I’ll prescribe antibiotics. Take them, drink plenty of fluids, and rest.”
As I lay in bed, absolutely miserable, I developed another illness: the woe-is-me syndrome. I pondered the fact that, in my daily morning prayers, I ask God to let me make it through the ongoing semester without illness, and here I was, sick. In the depths of self-pity — viewing myself as an object of unjust suffering, in a roundabout way I was blaming God because He didn’t answer my prayers.
I thought about one of my favorite biblical characters, Job, who proved that real faith doesn’t allow self-pity. As the Old Testament story goes, God pointed out to Satan that Job was a just, upright man of faith and would never allow the devil’s evil machinations to shake his trust in the Almighty.
Satan argued that Job merely appeared faithful because he had a large family and much wealth, and that if these blessings were taken from him, Job would reject his faith. Seeing an opportunity to teach all mankind about the evils of self-pity, God allowed Satan to strip Job of everything he held dear. His children died suddenly, and he lost all of his herds and land.
In the face of such calamity, many people would resort to begging forgiveness for past evils, hoping that their suffering might end. Not Job. Because of his faith in God’s workings — mysterious and unfathomable to humans — he knew that he had committed no sins worthy of such suffering, and that confessing uncommitted sins in hopes of bringing an end to his adversity would be an act of faithlessness, just as much as being unwilling to confess committed sins when all is going well and great suffering is not a factor.
That old cliché, “the patience of Job,” isn’t accurate. What Job demonstrated was not patience, but tenacity and endurance — virtues that paid off. The story ends happily: God rewarded Job with a new family, huge herds of camels and sheep, and twice as much land as he’d owned before.
Job had a job to do: Remain faithful to God, despite all. His faith was tested mightily, but not broken.
Reflecting on how Job did his job, I realized that sickness, like health, is a natural part of human existence, and is an annealing experience, testing one’s tenacity and endurance, thereby making those virtues stronger. Aware that one of my most destructive weaknesses is self-pity, I resolved to do what should be done instead: Job’s job.
Jimmy Reed is an Oxford, Mississippi resident, Ole Miss and Delta State University alumnus, Vietnam Era Army Veteran, former Mississippi Delta cotton farmer and ginner, author, and retired college teacher.
This story is a selection from Jimmy Reed’s latest book, entitled The Jaybird Tales.
Copies, including personalized autographs, can be reserved by notifying the author via email (.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)).
