Job's Wife

The air was cold, logically, as it was the middle of winter. But this cold was different. It was like the chill of a morgue. Her son, her beloved son, had died ten days ago, and the cold together with his absence penetrated her bones, making her shiver. Her husband kept silent. He got up every morning, made coffee, and sat down to read the newspaper. Sometimes she would see him with his eyes closed, presumably in prayer. He seemed impenetrable. Did he even have feelings?

Sorrow had built a wall between them, and they did not know how to tear it down or climb over it to reach each other. She felt the weight of grief crushing her, suffocating her. For her, tears flowed without warning, as they were doing at this very moment. His eyes remained dry. What did he really feel? She broke the silence.

“Why do you insist on pretending you are fine with it? I don’t believe that for a second!”

“God’s timing and plans are perfect, Rachel. We had already discussed this.”

“Really? Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that a three-year-old boy deserves to get cancer and die slowly and painfully? What kind of god is this God of yours?

“Rachel! His thoughts are not our thoughts...”

She looked at him baffled, put aside the breakfast she had barely touched, and left the table. She was furious.

“Rachel don’t be foolish! How come you behave like this? Wait! Don’t go. Tom is coming to finalize the program...”

“I don’t want to see anyone from church! I don’t want to talk to anyone! The next time somebody dares to tell me that this is the way God wanted it, that his plans are perfect, like you just said, or that he will never give us more than we can bear, I will explode!

“Like it or not, it is true! And for some reason, God in his wisdom sent us this trial.”

“If you want to cling to that belief, be my guest. You are the pastor, not me! I don’t want to see anyone at all. You decide what to include in the program. All I ask is that you leave out the tired old clichés.

Rachel went to her bedroom and locked the door. Job would have to sleep somewhere else. She did not want him near her. His presence was no comfort; quite the opposite: it drove her mad. She didn’t share his beliefs. She had begun questioning his theology a while back. She did not believe, in fact, she refused to believe, that everything happened according to a divine plan, that God caused suffering. But now, after her son’s death, she even doubted God was real. Believing that God did not exist was preferable to believing in an indifferent God who didn’t give a damn about us.

An endless stream of friends, relatives, and acquaintances came to offer their condolences after the so-called Celebration of Life. Why couldn't people call a spade a spade? She was not celebrating her son’s short life. She was grieving his death. Still, she limited herself to smiling and saying, “thank you.” She didn’t want to make a scene; that would require strength she didn’t have.

Darkness fell early in the wintery North, but her darkness was different, it was inside her, it was deeper than a black hole, than the nothingness that sweeps everything away...Night crushed her and left her struggling for air. Sometimes she wanted to call for Job to come and hold her, but she could only manage a whisper, and it was impossible for Job to hear her from the library. Besides, why call him if she knew what he would say? It was always the same! He would not allow her to get everything, all her nonsense and despair, off her chest. He would find it unseemly.

She went back to work. She only had enough time off for a month’s leave. What would her co-workers say? Could she hold back the tears? How was it even possible that life could go on? “Listen, my son died! My son died! She wanted to roll down the windows and scream for everyone to hear, “My son died!” She wanted to say it to their faces — to the carefree people waiting at the bus stop, crossing the street, driving next to her. “Don’t you know my son died?”

One of these days she might get into an accident. The windshield wipers could not wipe her tears. The sudden deluge prevented her from seeing past her eyelashes. But she was not afraid to die anymore. It might be better. She slammed the dashboard with her fist and heard a cracking sound. She had broken something.

“Don’t lose sight of the truth that life is beautiful,” somebody said after reading her post on Facebook. “The sun will shine again,” wrote somebody else. “Stupid people! If your son were dead, you would see that no sunshine can overcome the darkness brought by their absence!” She wished they would keep their mouths shut or keep their comments to themselves. But, no, they were like Job’s friends, Job from the Bible and her husband Job —there had to be a reason, there had to be a lesson, everything worked for good, that’s what they kept telling her. Who was she to question God?

She started making excuses to skip church: she got a headache, a cold, an upset stomach, whatever. Job’s verses and prayers could not reach her. Her heart had turned to stone.

December 24, 2009

Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Luke 2:34, 35

“A sword will pierce your own soul...” I can imagine your pain, Maria. That’s how it feels.

January 3, 2010

I want to know you, the real you. You don’t seem to care!

January 5, 2010

I dreamed about him. He told me he wanted to live forever with us. My baby, how I long for you! What if heaven is not real? The only thing that seems real to me is your ashes!

February 10, 2010

Today Katelyn had the guts to tell me that I should be happy because he is no longer suffering. She was lucky I was in a good mood, or I would have asked her how come she didn’t die then.

February 15, 2010

I heard that the son of an acquaintance is very ill. God, I don’t want to pray for him. 1. I doubt you’ll do something about it. 2. I fear you will do something and heal him, and you did not heal my son.

March 1, 2010

Either God does not exist, or he is being very patient with me. I called him a “loser” and lightning did not strike me!

March 3^rd, 2010

I don’t want to go to church. Everything sounds fake, particularly my husband’s sermons.

March 17, 2010

Seeing the psychologist has been helpful. I can be open and say whatever I want. She is not appalled if I swear at God.

March 25, 2010

“…how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.” Luke 13:34

Could God be telling me this? Am I not willing? Please draw me near to you, Lord!

April 7, 2010

You would have turned four today.

May 4, 2010

I haven’t written in my journal in a long time, but I’ve been reading the Bible. I miss you, my baby.

May 5, 2010

Mother's Day is coming. I hope nobody wishes me a great day.

On Mother’s Day she pretended to get one of her regular headaches, so she skipped church. Alone at home, she sat down in the corner by the window that had become her special place to look at the night and the dawn. There was life out there, but not inside her home, not inside her heart. A few squirrels kept busy cracking and eating seeds or chasing each other in a game that started at the base of the apple tree, continued up the trunk, over to the branches, and back down. Her son loved playing tag... She remembered those Saturday mornings when, while she made breakfast, Job and Caleb chased each other down the hallway into the living room and the dining room, until Job would let himself be caught and drop to the floor defeated while Caleb hopped around him in a joyful dance of victory. “I caught him! I caught him!” he would shout in his child’s voice tripping over the words. When he suddenly started losing strength in the left side of his body and began dragging his leg and hanging his arm, they knew something was wrong. Damn cancer! It had taken away her son’s ability to run, swallow, and eventually breathe. It had left her arms empty and left Job without a playmate. No, this had not been God’s idea. Jesus had not gone around Palestine making people sick. He had healed them, he had raised the son of a widow from the dead, he had raised Lazarus... But had miracles now ceased?

May 18, 2010

I finally decided to take an antidepressant. I hope it helps.

June 16, 2010

Our wedding anniversary is coming up. Is there still love between us?

On their anniversary, they did not even acknowledge the day. What for? They were not happy. Why pretend? There was no point in giving or receiving chocolates and flowers. At first, Job had tried to persuade her, he had tried to make her come to her senses. He tried to convince her of the strength of his theological stance, but it was precisely that, his theological stance, which was pushing her farther and farther away. Rachel hoped Job was wrong, but what if he wasn’t? When doubt reared its ugly head, she feared it was Job and God against her, against this foolish woman married to a man who, as a pastor, was under the scrutiny of a whole congregation and who must have all the answers, otherwise... Otherwise, what?

July 1, 2010

I met another woman whose son died. Her presence comforted me so much. Thank you, God, for this blessing. We will get together again.

July 7, 2010

I find it so hard to have faith! I want to trust you, but I am filled with doubt. I hope you are like they say, well, like some people say. I guess I hope you are indeed like Jesus. “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” Please help my unbelief!

July 10, 2010

My name should be “Rachel Thomas” I want to see to believe, but I neither see you nor feel you.

July 18, 2010

It’s hot. You would have loved to go to the lake and play in the sand and get your feet wet.

August 5, 2010

The back-to-school sales are on. You never got to go to school.

…..

Summer was coming to an end. In a few weeks fall would be here, and with it arrive beautiful things which had been a source of joy in the past. Caleb loved collecting orange, red, and yellow leaves from the neighborhood trees. Rachel still had the ones he had picked up so full of excitement. In that same box she had placed the hair lock she had cut the day they said goodbye.

August 20, 2010

You are in error because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God. Matthew 22:29

I feel this applies to me as well: “You do not know the Scriptures nor do you know the power of God, Rachel, that’s why you don’t believe.”

August 23, 2010

I find psalms helpful and irritating. I don’t believe in “God’s promises.” It’s just hyperbole.

September 30, 2010

Time flies but also crawls. It seems the medicine is working. I hope it helps me deal with winter’s darkness and cold better. More than anything I need you, God. Please forgive my lack of faith.

October 30, 2010

Tomorrow is Halloween. I will turn off the lights. I don’t want kids to come trick-or-treating to our house. Seeing so many happy little faces would break my heart because you are not here. You enjoyed your last Halloween, even though you were not feeling well. The hospital did its best to bring some normalcy to your life and to the lives of the other kids. I thank God for the hospital staff, even if they couldn't save your life. I love you, Caleb. I miss you so so much.

November 4, 2010

The anniversary of your death is approaching. It’s hard to believe it’s been almost a year. I can’t understand why I am still alive. It’s not fair. A mother should die with her child. Your dad? I still love him, but we have gone our separate ways. We miss you so much!

November 10, 2010

Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”

If you really knew who I am, Rachel... I want to know you. Help me!

November 16, 2010

Never again will there be in it an infant who lives but a few days, or an old man who does not live out his years… Isaiah 65:20

How I long for that day!

....

Her son’s death anniversary arrived. That morning, Rachel woke up and looked around a bit disoriented. The day had come, and she felt calm. This confused her. The emptiness was there, as usual, but that was it. Was she getting used to his absence? She did not like not feeling much. Sometimes pain was the only thing that made her feel close to her son. Nonetheless, she had to acknowledge that, at least right now, the pain was not all consuming. She got up and walked to the window. There was fresh snow on the ground and the trees, and the sun was bright. It was a beautiful day.

“Rachel, may I come in?” asked Job peeking through the door. His voice sounded strange, coarse. “May I come in?” he asked again.

“Of course...”

Rachel walked back to her bed and sat down on the edge. Job came in, hesitated for a second and then sat down next to her. For a few brief moments, they were silent. Suddenly, as if from deep down a cavern, Job let out a cry and bent over weeping violently. It was as if the floodgates of heaven had been thrown open, and they could not be shut. Rachel held him against her breast and let him cry until he ran out of tears.