Job

There is currently a thunderstorm outside my window.

I feel like I am related to Job.

My name is Jobe.

I feel his pain. I love this story. I am this story. I am going to write a book about this story.

But for now, I am going to learn to keep my mouth shut about things that I don't understand, and give you, instead, this picture I took a few hours ago in my front yard, which I just happened to take when I happened to witness a hornet-like-creature snatching a cicada out of mid-air. The hornet then proceeded to eat him. Personally, I have never felt sorry for cicadas before. Today, maybe. Perhaps there are some things that I am not wise enough to understand.

If I were brave enough to ask, I'd ask about grasshoppers. But then again, maybe I wouldn't... because my encounters with grasshoppers have given me stories to tell. Funny stories. Stories that comfort other people in times of trouble... which, maybe, just maybe, is the meaning of many things.

But God is incredible, and his wisdom is infinite. Thank you, God.

And thanks, Job, for being in this story.

p.s. (If I ever have a daughter, I'm naming her Jemimah.)

Job 39:20

I should also add that as I was reading, I noticed a single pencil mark notation I had made in my Bible a long, long time ago. It was just a single pink arrow pointing to this verse: "I myself made her foolish and without common sense." (Job 39:17).