Wrestling with that Man may leave us limping, but it’s also how we become princes with God.
Job isn’t finished. In Job 9, he talks about God; in chapter 10, he talks to God. He first
declares he is justified in complaining (v 1). “I will say to God, ‘Do not condemn me; show me
why You contend with me” (v 2). To condemn means “to declare wrong.” Job doesn’t think he’s
perfect, but he also doesn’t think whatever wrong he’s done deserves the horrors he’s passing
through. To contend means “to wrestle with,” and Job is in the match of his life. Here are
some of his moves. First, in bringing these calamities on Job, God seems to be despising His
own creation. Is that a good thing? In addition, God seems to be taking advice from “the
wicked” (v 3). That surely isn’t a good thing. (And Job doesn’t even know that “the wicked” is
no one less than the devil himself!) Job notes the contest is lopsided in the extreme. Is he
wrestling with a man whose eyes can only see so far? A man whose searchings are limited by
mortal life? No! God can probe his inner recesses, and has eternity on His side (vv 4-6). In
fact, Job’s efforts were doomed from the start: “there is no one who can deliver from Your hand”
(v 7). In verses 8-12, he returns to the situation where God seems to be damaging His
creation. “Your hands have made me…yet You would destroy me” (v 8). He turned dust into
clay to mold me; now He’s smashing me back into dust? (v 9). I feel like spilled milk and
curdled cheese—separated and soured (v 10). Clothed “with skin…and knit…together” (v
11), Your masterpiece is now a mess. True, “You have granted me life and favor, and Your care
has preserved my spirit” (v 12). But now what’s going on? In the end, Job (and we) do well to
follow the axiom, “When you cannot trace God’s hand, we must keep on trusting His heart.”