Whether together in the home or busy with their separate duties, at some point in the narrative of Job his wife also receives the horrific news of each disaster. The book of Job gives us very little in regards to Job's wife, so I will take some liberties in possible scenarios regarding the worst day of her life. I imagine her capable of holding things together -perhaps it's pure shock- as she bears the news of the loss of livelihood and servants. Then, in one devastating moment she receives news ALL TEN of her children have perished in one fell swoop. Did she and Job see the natural disaster far off in the distance near home of one of children? Were they wringing their hands in worry? Did she normally join them in their festivities but found herself detained on this day? Is she racked with the guilt of "I should've been there!"?
I imagine she hears of their demise and from within her comes the most guttural and heartbreaking scream. I picture her running to the ruins to see for herself and collapsing in anguish as physical shock and exhaustion take over. I imagine her desperately clawing through the rubble with nails ripping from her fingers as she hopes beyond hope the messenger was mistaken. Perhaps there are survivors buried beneath. Is she screaming for help to lift rock and beam to find her children? Did she find them? Any of them? With each piece of rubble grasped is she crying out to God to let just one of her children be found alive? Who wouldn't? Their bodies pinned, pale, and perhaps beyond recognition, I imagine she could not care less about cultural norms and cradles their heads in her lap with tears pouring down her now dirt and ash streaked face. The sound of her weeping is heard in contrast to the silence of a party gone wrong. There are no servants left to help recover their bodies (many have been killed) nor prepare them for burial: these ten children in addition to numerous servants. How harrowing! Can you imagine a worse day as a wife? as a parent?
In Chapter Two we find Job sitting among the ashes scraping oozing sores with broken bits of pottery. Were these the ashes and rubble of his child's home? Somewhere on his own property or perhaps the local trash heap? This woman having just lost all her children, livelihood and servants, is most likely traumatized in DEEP grief and now looks upon her husband in such a state. Two people, both in immense pain, cannot now physically console one another due to his illness. They, like most couples, likely grieve very differently and up to this point have not had reason to understand these nuances about each other.
She's likely juggling all the practical responsibilities in the burial of her ten children and who knows how many servants. I can tell you from experience, it's horrific enough when it is one child. Maybe she is in need a shoulder to cry on, the arms of her husband to enfold her. Yet, he cannot help: neither with matters of burial or comfort due to his now painfully pervasive medical condition. She wasn't privy to the conversation between Satan and God where Job's life itself was still guarded. (Think about that: Satan allowed to converse with and in the presence of God about his people. That's a discussion for another day.) With the way things have been going and judging by her husband's condition she's likely bracing herself for widowhood.
She's shattered over the loss of ALL those precious babies she had carried in her womb, watched take their first steps, and grow into adulthood.
She's now poverty stricken and facing the likelihood of becoming a widow with a bleak future.
What fears are there simmering beneath the surface surrounding the marauders who had stolen their livestock and murdered their servants?
Would she consider her own death a relief at this point?
I don't think it would be far fetched to assume a righteous man like Job had wisely chosen a wife of similar character. He didn't seem too concerned about sacrificing for her unintentional sins in Chapter One. If ten children and the way he speaks to her later are any indication, they seemingly have a healthy marriage. Yet, it's likely they've never seen one another suffer so deeply, have never traversed the valley of death together. So here she is amid all of that now watching a man she most likely cares deeply for(at minimum relies upon) suffer intensely. She's still in shock from all the recent loss and tragedy, likely sleep deprived.
How my heart aches for this woman! What a life she's lived and we don't even have her name! She's bearing unimaginable pain and her reaction (two sentences)- her brokenness in such horrific pain- is all we see. How tragic. She's possibly angry with God, as is Job we see a few chapters later. She has likely never been more aware of her lack of control in any area of her life. (Holding your dying child obliterates any fantasies of control one has over their life.) I suppose she feeling helpless, hopeless even, and physically, emotionally, and even spiritually exhausted. Perhaps she's hurt the God Job (and likely she) have faithfully served did not, has not intervened nor given relief. Let's be real. God could have saved her children, their livelihood, even cured her husband, yet He's silent. I imagine she's desperate for relief and has cried, "Where are you God?".
One does not have to condone her words in verse nine to understand where they came from. How many of us have sinfully spoken in an outburst of hurt or anger? Even Job says, "you're talking LIKE a foolish woman." He doesn't call her foolish or question her character or faith. Could he not have been gently correcting a woman he loved while understanding she had endured unimaginable suffering? "Dear, now you're starting to sound like so and so." I imagine in a soft, yet firm and agony filled voice, "shall we not accept the bad along with the good from God?" Job very well could have had this same battle in his own mind. We are told in Verse 10 "In all this Job did not sin in what he said." Neither what he said to and while correcting his wife, nor about God in his suffering was considered sinful. Alas, we do not know the battle of his mind as he sits there covered in ash while scraping sores, physically unable to participate or help his wife in all the practical matters, and unable to hold, comfort, or seek the comfort of his wife. Job is indeed noble and righteous. Yet, why do we assume from one brief conversation his wife, his shattered wife was not?
We know Job was human, therefore was not without sins of some sort. Why expect otherwise from his wife? Why assume she's an agent of Satan (as some commentary authors and pastors suggest)? One's sin in grief is not beyond restoration anymore than sins outside of grief. As in most healthy marriages, especially so during trauma and grief, one partner is often clinging to faith when the other questions. They are complimentary in that when one is having a harder day the other is equipped with strength. Other days the tables are turned. I can speak personally to this. Some days we both sit in the rubble, cry, and lament. Thank God Job was equipped in this moment, but we must remember his faith is a grace of God.
His wife-to our knowledge- is still a recipient along with Job of God's restoration in later chapters. Some people suggest she left and he remarried. But that's also taking a lot of liberty. Scripture doesn't say one way or the other. Is it not possible it is she who shares in his final blessings? Job doesn't birth more children alone, nor does he end up dining in or managing a new home and livelihood alone. I speculate if their marriage weathered this trauma (and I'm a hopeful optimist) it was stronger and healthier, as was their faith. They most likely grieved the rest of their lives for the children lost to them. For children cannot be restored this side of heaven once dead. Did they lay their at night in the quiet intimately talking of those ten dear ones they long to hold again? What parent wouldn't carry that grief with them for the rest of their life? They likely never had all their "why" questions answered. They likely also realized and held a much more sober fear of God unlike most; completely aware all of it could once more be taken from them. It's not as though they could be assured their suffering quota had been met and God wouldn't allow more.
I want to sit down with Job's wife for a lengthy heart to heart. She's one of the people I am most looking forward to meeting when I get Home. Scripture does not guarantee she's there, yet neither does it suggest she is not. I'm going to choose to give this shattered mama a little grace, because God knows how my heart has struggled in grief. No, I've not been tempted to curse God, but perhaps she wasn't tempted in the ways I have been.
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