JOB A man stood blameless in the land of Uz Pure of heart and fearing God Until the sky cracked open without warning And hell came pouring on his blood He lost his sons and daughters in one day His wealth burned, his body broke Sat in ashes scraping open sores While his own wife said “Curse God and die” — he spoke Friends came with polished speeches “You must have sinned, this is your due” They sat for seven days in silence Then blamed the man who once they knew He cursed the night that he was born Wished he’d never drawn first breath Questioned every righteous tear he’d shed While heaven stayed silent as death He poured out pain like rivers Begged for answers in the dark “Why do the innocent suffer?” “Why does the wicked keep his spark?” Then from the whirlwind came the Answer Not the why he begged to know But the voice of the Creator “Who are you to question what I sew?” Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? When the morning stars sang loud? Can you bind the chains of Pleiades Or loose Orion’s mighty shroud? We journey deep into the pain Where no easy answer lies Where faith is forged in silent fire And trust is born when hope has died We suffer too in those same shadows When the heavens give no reply Yet we stand before the whirlwind Learning who God is — and who am I Let Your glory roll like thunder Let Your wonder shake the night Restore the broken, prove Your wisdom In the furnace of our fight Let Your glory roll like thunder Let Your wonder shake the night Restore the broken, prove Your wisdom In the furnace of our fight
