In Job's uttermost extremity--he cried after the Lord. Just so, the longing desire of an afflicted child of God--is once more to see his Father's face! His first prayer is not, "O that I might be healed of the disease which now festers in every part of my body!" Nor even, "O that I might see my children restored from the jaws of the grave, and my property once more brought from the hand of the spoiler!" But the first and uppermost cry is, "O that I knew where I might find HIM who is my God! O that I might come even to His presence!"
God's children run home when the storm comes on! It is the heaven-born instinct of a gracious soul--to seek shelter from all troubles, beneath the wings of Jehovah. "He who has made God his refuge," might serve as the title of a true believer.
A hypocrite, when afflicted by God, resents the infliction and, like a slave, would run from the Master who has scourged him! But not so with the true heir of heaven--he kisses the hand which smote him--and seeks shelter from the rod, in the bosom of the God who frowned upon him!
Job's desire to commune with God was intensified, by the failure of all other sources of consolation. The patriarch turned away from his sorry friends, and looked up to the celestial throne--just as a traveler turns from his empty water bottle, and betakes himself with all speed to the well. He bids farewell to earth-born hopes, and cries, "O that I knew where I might find my God!"
Nothing teaches us so much the preciousness of the Creator--as when we learn the emptiness of all created things. Turning away with bitter scorn from earth's hives, where we find no honey--but many sharp stings; we rejoice to turn to Him whose faithful Word is sweeter than honey from the honeycomb.
In every trouble, we should first seek God's presence with us. Only let us enjoy His smile--and we can bear our daily cross with a willing heart, for His dear sake!
Spurgeon
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