The Personal Nature of Grief

Grief is such a tricky subject. Everyone seems to have opinions on how it should be handled, but I think it’s one of the most personal experiences we go through. It strips you down to your most vulnerable self, leaving you exposed in ways that can feel almost impossible to put into words. And then there’s the idea of death—the end, the finality. It’s so hard to truly comprehend, and maybe that’s what makes it so difficult to talk about. Perhaps it’s also one of the reasons many people turn to faith, searching for something larger to help make sense of it all.

Frustration with Job’s Friends

As I read through Job 21-23, I found myself growing frustrated. Job’s friends didn’t seem to truly listen to him. Instead of trying to understand what he was saying, they responded with what they wanted to believe—or perhaps what they thought he needed to hear. It felt less like a conversation and more like cross-talking. Their words seemed to miss the mark, not because they weren’t well-meaning, but because they weren’t meeting Job where he was.

Maybe Job Didn’t Want Answers

It made me wonder: maybe Job didn’t want answers. Maybe he didn’t need his friends to fix the situation or solve the riddle of his suffering. I know I can fall into that same trap myself. When my husband shares something he’s struggling with, my instinct is to jump into problem-solving mode. But so often, that’s not what he needs. Sometimes he just needs space to think out loud, to feel heard without being offered a solution.

Are We Truly Listening?

Reading this passage made me reflect on how we show up for others in their moments of vulnerability. Are we truly listening, or are we rushing to fill the silence with answers that might not even be necessary? It’s a question I don’t have a clear answer to, but it’s one I’ll be carrying with me as I continue through Job’s story.