denouement: [French] the solution, unraveling, or clarification of a plot in a drama or story
“I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle,” said Mother Teresa. “I just wish He didn’t trust me so much.”
In Job’s case, God must trust him a lot.
One think this would be a good time for the still, small voice. Instead, massive whirlwind spins up out of the southern desert.
And now, finally, God answered Job out from the eye of a violent storm. He said ‘Why do you confuse the issue? Why do you talk without knowing what you are talking about? Pull yourself together, Job! Up on your feet! Stand tall! I have some questions for you, and I want some straight answers (38:1-3, MSG)!
Pull yourself together! I’m going to give you a detailed verbal tour of the earth and its creatures, and of the panorama of the heavens—with the megaphone of heaven. When I’m done, let me know if you feel like arguing anymore, or accusing Me of lacking compassion.
Jehovah, wise and watchful, knows this terrible trial requires an awe-inspiring response. In four blazing chapters, He does not disappoint. And Job answers for all of us:
I am a lightweight. What shall I answer You? I lay my hand over my mouth.
Indeed. Tribulation has done its hard, exhausting work on the spirit of man. What remains is refined, purified, beautiful. The denouement of God’s purposes after all.
It’s difficult, this account. Some of the tough questions remain just that: tough. But this book requires—what?—a giant leap in spiritual maturity? A radically altered perspective of God Himself? Yes and yes. And in those two things are found degrees of comfort and assurance that untested faith cannot provide. Have you found this to be true? I certainly have.
When He has tried me. . ., not if.