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Graceless Words for a Grieving Man
All the passages below are taken from Charles R Swindoll’s book “Job” published in 2004.
If you're like me, there are mornings you get a song on your mind and it keeps returning through the day. It happened to me last Thursday. It went into the afternoon, and on into Friday morning. While sitting in my study I kept going over the same old spiritual that used to be sung by choirs in the Deep South:
Ev'rybody talkin' 'bout Heav'n ain't goin' there.
Goin' to shout all over God's Heaven.1
Well, the more I ran those words through my head, the more unusual they seemed to be. As I remembered the smiling faces of former choir members singing about not going to heaven, I wondered why they were smiling. And, frankly, it reminded me of how we talk about grace. Everybody's talkin' about grace, ain't goin' there either! Funny, isn't it? Everywhere we turn we hear about grace, but most folks wouldn't know grace if they met it face to face. Most people aren't ready to accept it even when it's presented to them.
Not long ago a student from a college in Missouri wrote this in an e-mail:
I left work early so I could have some uninterrupted study time right before the final in my class. When I got to class, everybody was doing their last minute studying. The teacher came in and said he would review with us for just a little bit before the test. We went through the review, most of it right on the study guide, but there were some things he was reviewing that I had never heard of. When questioned about it, he said that they were in the book and we were responsible for everything in the book. We couldn't really argue with that.
Finally, it was time to take the test.
"Leave them face down on the desk until everyone has one and I'll tell you to start," our prof instructed.
When we turned them over, every answer on the test was filled in! The bottom of the last page said the following:
"This is the end of the Final Exam. All the answers on your test are correct. You will receive an A' on the final exam. The reason you passed the test is because the creator of the test took it for you. All the work you did in preparation for this test did not help you get the ‘A’ You have just experienced... grace."
He then went around the room and asked each student individually, "What is your grade? Do you deserve the grade you are receiving? How much did all your studying for this exam help you achieve your final grade?"
Now I am not a crier by any stretch of the imagination, but I had to fight back tears when answering those questions and thinking about how the Creator had passed the test for me.
Discussion afterward went like this: "I have tried to teach you all semester that you are a recipient of grace. I've tried to communicate to you that you need to demonstrate this gift as you work with young people. Don't hammer them; they are not the enemy. Help them, for they will carry on your ministry if it is full of grace!"
Talking about how some of us had probably studied hours and some just a few minutes but had all received the same grade, he pointed to a story Jesus told in Matthew 20. The owner of a vineyard hired people to work in his field and agreed to pay them a certain amount. Several different times during the day, he hired more workers. When it was time to pay them, they all received the same amount. When the ones who had been hired first thing in the morning began complaining, the boss said, "Should you be angry because I am kind?" (Matthew 20:15).
The teacher said he had never done this kind of final before and probably would never do it again, but because of the content of many of our class discussions, he felt like we needed to experience grace.2
After reading of that true event, I thought: "Why didn't I have a teacher like than when I was taking all of my final exams?"
These days, seems like everybody's talking about grace, but we ain't goin' there. Not on your life! We love it coming from God, but just don't expect it from fallen folks like us. And even when it does, we're shocked. Too bad!
Of all the things Job had to endure, the ultimate test was enduring the graceless words and responses from his alleged friends.
We have just completed the first cycle of insults which came from Eliphaz, then Bildad, and finally, Zophar. As we saw, Job answered each man, no doubt hoping that would put a stop to all their heartless accusations. Not a chance.
ONE CRUEL STATEMENT FOLLOWS ANOTHER
In the second cycle, which starts in chapter 15 of the Book of Job, Eliphaz takes off the gloves and starts swinging barefisted, thinking it's time to really get down to business. Hard as it is to imagine, there is not a hint of grace. It's now "same song, fourth verse ... could be better ... but it's going to be worse." Much worse.
A Litany of Rebukes
Eliphaz throws more verbal punches in the first round of this second cycle. They are nothing more than graceless words for a grieving man. In case you wonder what those kind of words sound like, they begin with pride.
Should a wise man answer with windy knowledge
And fill himself with the east wind? (Job 15:2 NASB)
The word himself is really "belly" in the Hebrew. Should a wise man (Eliphaz, of course) fill his belly with a lot of wind? Eliphaz's pride is followed by insult. Still referring to himself, he says,
Should he argue with useless talk,
Or with words which are not profitable?
Indeed, you do away with reverence
And hinder meditation before God. (Job 15:3-4 NASB)
Then there's guilt,
For your guilt teaches your mouth,
And you choose the language of the crafty. (Job 15:5 NASB)
(You deceiver, you.)
Your own mouth condemns you, and not I;
And your own lips testify against you. (Job 15:6 NASB)
So there’s condemnation as well.
In the words that follow we find exaggeration and sarcasm, where one humiliating question follows another.
Were you the first man to be born,
Or were you brought forth before the hills?
Do you hear the secret counsel of God,
And limit wisdom to yourself?
What do you know that we do not know?
What do you understand that we do not?
Job 15:7-9 NASB
Can you imagine the unmitigated gall it took to stand before a man shaking and shattered by pain and unloading such a diatribe on him? This is verbal abuse at its lowest level, intensified by the pride in this man's heart who is delivering the blows so relentlessly.
The sarcastic interrogation continues:
Are the consolations of God too small for you?
Even the word spoken gently with you?
Why does your heart carry you away?
And why do your eyes flash,
That you should turn your spirit against God.
And allow such words to go out of your mouth?
What is man, that he should be pure,
Or he who is born of a woman, that he should be righteous? Behold, He puts no trust in His holy ones,
And the heavens are not pure in His sight;
How much less one who is detestable and corrupt,
Man, who drinks iniquity like water!
Job 15:11-16 NASB
He tears Job apart with his sharp teeth, never even pausing to give the grieving man a chance to answer.
Reminders of Wrong
Having rebuked him, he follows up with reminders of the fate of the wicked as he ends his speech. He says, in effect, "Job, because you're wicked, you writhe in pain. Plain and simple, that's why you're in pain. You're only getting what you deserve."
Sounds of terror are in his ears;
While at peace the destroyer comes upon him.
He does not believe that he will return from darkness,
And he is destined for the sword.
Job 15:21-22 NASB
"So, my friends and I are not surprised you're going through such terror, loss, and torment."
He wanders about for food, saying, `Where is it?'
He knows that a day of darkness is at hand.
Distress and anguish terrify him,
They overpower him like a king ready for the attack.
Job 15:23-24 NASB
"Small wonder you're experiencing this overpowering distress and anguish."
Because he has stretched out his hand against God
And conducts himself arrogantly against the Almighty.
Job 15:25 NASB
"That's it, Job! It's your arrogance!" Eliphaz backs away and stares at him with that glare, saying, again, "You are getting exactly what you deserve!"
The style of communication Eliphaz employs is not that unusual to those who lack grace. It may not always be this brutal, but haven't you noticed this tone when you're around people who evidence no grace? When you're down, they kick you. When you're drowning, they pull you under. When you're confused, they complicate your life. And, when you're almost finished, they write you off. Other than that, they're pretty good folks.
It is easy to forget the grief Job was trying to get past---the shocking loss of his adult children. Releasing the vise grip of grief that comes from a sudden death takes an enormous toll.
Dr. Lucy Mabry-Foster, a longtime friend to Cynthia and me, died suddenly back in the spring of 2002. Lucy and her family were not strangers to tragedy. Lucy's first husband, Dr. Trevor Mabry, was killed in an airplane crash while returning from a Focus on the Family retreat in Montana. Trevor was a splendid ear, nose, and throat surgeon, trained at the Mayo Clinic, and practicing in the Dallas area. All four of the fine men of God on that plane died in the crash.
The Mabrys' older son, Dan, was on his honeymoon at the time. Hearing that the plane had not returned as scheduled, Dan immediately returned home and joined in the search, hoping for a sign of survival. Ultimately the family members had to face the tragic reality that their husband and father had perished in that fatal crash.
The city of Dallas mourned as the news of their multiple deaths made the headlines. All of us who knew and loved those men reeled in disbelief, sorrow, and grief.
Lucy determined that she would not give up. The Christian community and her family surrounded her with love and support. All the children put their arms around their mother as they worked their way through the loss. During the next ten years Lucy finished her education, earned her Ph.D., and became the first woman teacher at Dallas Theological Seminary. It's a wonderful story of her strong determination through years of grief.
Ultimately, the Lord brought to her side a fine Christian gentleman, C. L. Foster from South Texas. Over the passing of many months, C. L. and Lucy fell in love. And along with many others, Cynthia and I were in the church the day C. L. and Lucy were joined in marriage. It was absolutely charming. All of us were thinking how great of God to do this. Their wedding was a joy to everyone.
Five years later---almost to the day---on a Monday morning, Lucy breathed her last in the arms of her beloved husband. They were in an emergency vehicle racing to the hospital in hopes of saving her life. We buried her the following Thursday. Lucy's sudden demise was almost too surprising to believe.
It was my privilege to sit for more than two hours and talk with the family who had already been through the shocking loss of their dad, and now these same three were having to deal with the sudden loss of their mother. And C. L., who had lost his first wife in a car crash, was quietly sitting beside them. You could see the wheels turning as the tears ran from his eyes. The grief mixed with the shock left them stunned.
C. L. Foster and those adult children didn't need any rebuke or condemnation. They didn't need to be blamed for anything or to be asked any insulting, humiliating questions. They needed reassuring comfort and genuine sympathy. In a word, they needed grace.3
I can't help but think of that when I see Job, as he sits there enduring this, awash in his grief, trying his best to believe his ears---that this man who was once a friend is saying such graceless words. I'm left with one thought: "Lord, if you are teaching us anything through Job's endurance, teach us the value of grace. Teach us about demonstrating grace. Show us again that grace is always appropriate. Always needed. Not just by a student in Missouri taking a final exam. Not only by a grieving family in Dallas. All of us need it! The person sitting near you in church next Sunday, the lady pushing that cart in the grocery store, the one who's putting gas in his car at the next pump, the man behind you at the movies, waiting to buy his ticket, the student across from you at school. You have no idea what that person is going through. If you did, chances are you'd be prompted to show grace or to say a few encouraging words even quicker. Remember this please: Grace is always appropriate, always needed!
JOB'S STRONG RESPONSE
I'm starting to sit back and silently admire Job. Like right now. He has listened and now he responds. He says, in effect, "You want to fight with bare fists? Fine with me. My hands may be covered with sores, but I'll do as you have done and take the gloves off."
I find four responses from Job that are both admirable and realistic. Personally, I do not find them shocking, though you may.
He Is Disgusted
First off, Job is downright disgusted with Eliphaz, and rightly so! He chooses not to sit there and take another punch in the face by this insulting, proud man. Job's self-respect steps up in spades. "Sorry comforters are you all" (Job 16:2). How's that for an opening line of disgust? Choice description: Sorry comforters. Talk about an oxymoron! You may not be familiar with that term. Webster defines an oxymoron as "a combination of contradictory words," like government intelligence. Another comes to mind: teenage submission. Sorry comforters! "You think this is comfort? What a sorry group of comforters you are, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar!"
One man describes the scene like this:
Job complains that often he has heard many such things as the comforters speak. But in his present plight such pious platitudes serve only to increase his sorrow. Therefore, he accuses his friends of being miserable comforters. ... The byword miserable comforters is a pungent oxymoron; i.e., the more words they speak to comfort, the more pain they inflict. This interchange boldly marks the difference between Job's perspective and Eliphaz's. Whereas Eliphaz believes that the speeches of the friends are the very consolations of God (15:11), Job considers them to be harbingers of misery. And whereas Eliphaz concludes his speech with the aphorism "conceiving mischief... bearing iniquity" (15:35a), Job retorts that it is their theologizing that conceives mischief to produce misery in him.
With a biting rhetorical question Job charges Eliphaz with uttering windy words ... i.e., eloquent speech devoid of content. He is directly countering Eliphaz's reproach that his knowledge is empty wind (15:2) and Bildad's retort that his words are a mighty wind (8:z). Next Job asks Eliphaz what irritates ... him so much that he feels compelled to keep answering. Job cannot fathom why Eliphaz is so upset with him.4
No extra charge for this reminder. People who are graceless and insulting don't get a clue unless you are equally strong in return. So, sometimes, like Job, you have to plant a firm verbal blow in their brain. To be sure you are getting through, there are times you must fight fire with fire. You have to be just as blunt or they'll walk all over you and stomp you into the dirt. Which explains why Job calls them "sorry comforters." He doesn't smile and act pious---he responds truthfully. His integrity is revealed in his honesty.
Speaking the truth cuts through the fuzzy, vague, feel-good verbiage that often characterizes a lot of religious cliches. That's why I urge with such passion that we all learn how to speak truth, ideally in love. Let me add here, if I've got to make an either/or choice, I'll take truth. It's better with love, of course, but truth is absolutely essential. "Truth hurts" is a familiar saying. But, I repeat, there are times its unvarnished, direct blows are needed. Sometimes we are the ones in need of hearing them. A good example would be when you lose your job---and you're the reason. The one in authority has the unhappy task of facing you with reality. If there's truth in the communication, the person who is letting you go at that moment is telling you things you should never forget. He or she is cutting through all the nice-sounding veneer and addressing the specific reason you have lost the job. Be sure you are hearing the truth, hard as it may be to take it. It will help you if you accept it and make the necessary changes.
In this case, Job is saying to Eliphaz, "Your words are wrongly stated. You've misjudged me and your reasoning is incorrect. Furthermore, the words you've used are harsh, and therefore I'm telling you, you are a sorry comforter."
Job is not only disgusted with Eliphaz, he is distressed over God's apparent absence and very obvious silence. That may sound shocking to some who read those words, but it happens, especially among those who are hurting. Keep that in mind as you read Job's distressing words.
I feel worn down.
God, you have wasted me totally---me and my family!
You've shriveled me like a dried prune,
showing the world that you're against me.
My gaunt face stares back at me from the mirror,
a mute witness to your treatment of me.
Your anger tears at me,
your teeth rip me to shreds,
your eyes burn holes in me---God my enemy!
People take one look at me and gasp.
Contemptuous, they slap me around and gang up against me.
And God just stands there and lets them do it,
lets wicked people do what they want with me.
I was contentedly minding my business when God beat me up.
He grabbed me by the neck and threw me around.
He set me up as his target,
then rounded up archers to shoot at me.
Merciless, they shot me full of arrows;
bitter bile poured from my gut to the ground.
He burst in on me, onslaught after onslaught,
charging me like a mad bull.
I sewed myself a shroud and wore it like a shirt:
I lay face down in the dirt.
Now my face is blotched red from weeping;
look at the dark shadows under my eyes,
Even though I've never hurt a soul
and my prayers are sincere!
O Earth, don't cover up the wrong done to me!
Don't muffle my cry!
There must be someone in heaven who knows the truth about me,
in highest heaven, some Attorney who can clear my name---
My Champion, my Friend,
while I'm weeping my eyes out before God.
I appeal to the One who represents mortals before God
as a neighbor stands up for a neighbor.
Only a few years are left
before I set out on the road of no return.
My spirit is broken,
my days used up,
my grave dug and waiting. (Job 16:7-17:1 MSG)
Strong, deeply emotional words from a distressed man.
If you'd find fault with Job, it's because you've never been there. There's not a counselor who has been in that kind of work very long before she or he meets up with someone who is distressed over the way God has treated them. Their words are strong, full of anguish, because they don't understand how a loving, gracious, good God could allow such devastating events to happen to one of His own.
Remember, Job still doesn't know the arrangement between Satan and God. We were introduced to it very carefully and clearly before it occurred. But Job was never in on that flow of information. He still doesn't know why one day, completely out of the blue, the bottom drops out, bringing tornadoes and fires, destruction and multiple deaths ... finally ill health with such force. Not once does God give him a word of explanation. Remember, all of his adult life Job has walked intimately with God. He has been obedient and submissive---now this! No wonder he's distressed.
I'll confess to you, I've known that kind of confusion---but certainly not like Job. During such times, I have said in unguarded moments, "God what in the world are You up to? What is this about? To the best of my knowledge, I am not doing anything wrong. And I'm not doing it with the wrong motive. I haven't gone into this to please myself or to impress somebody else. I'm trying to walk in obedience. But everything has backfired! What's going on, Lord?"
It's like driving home from work after a terrible day at the office. In bumper-to-bumper traffic, the guy behind you smashes into you. You then hit the car in front of you, and it happens to be a new Porsche. Porsche drivers tend not to like that when you hit them from the rear. You get everything documented by the police. And the Porsche owner is so angry he threatens to sue you. And when you finally do get home, you don't have any milk. Your dog's hungry and he's been gnawing on the cabinet. Your kids are mean, so they're gnawing on each other. And the mail is full of overdue bills, and you're out of money. And your wife tells you she got the results of the biopsy ... and the doc wants both of you to come see him first thing in the morning. That does it! You think, "What is this all about, God? And while I'm at it, where are You?"
And no answer comes ... and tomorrow is worse than today. And next week is intensifying all of it, making last week look like a downhill slide. On top of all of that, you are about to lose your job. And the guy in the Porsche does sue you. And. And. And. And.
In unguarded moments when the lights are out and the doors are closed, and your pastor isn't around to listen, and nobody's going to tell on you, you do slump and start wondering. If you don't you're weird. Don't tell me you're too spiritual to think like that. Like Job, your spirit is broken, your days leave you exhausted and confused, and it's like your grave is dug and awaiting your arrival. The result? Again, he is depressed. And how could anyone be surprised?
What, specifically, brought Job to this point of depression? I believe it's best expressed in the Latin words, Deus absconditus. I came across those words this week.... Deus is the Latin word for God. Absconditus gives us our English word abscond. Webster says it means "to conceal, to depart secretly and hide oneself." God has secretly split the scene. That's it, exactly!
"He's gone. I can't figure Him out. When I pray I don't get answers. When I devote myself even more deeply to doing His will for all the right reasons, I continue to lose. When I pray, zip happens. God has absconded with the blessings."
C. S. Lewis describes the frustration perfectly in A Grief Observed.
Meanwhile, where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms. When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him. .. you will be---or so it feels---welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become.5
Deus absconditus. That expresses the problem without any literary ruffles or lace. He's hit bottom. Disgusted, distressed, depressed, Job finds himself ready to die. So ...
We could call the following words, Job's Requiem.
My life's about over. All my plans are smashed,
all my hopes are snuffed out---
My hope that night would turn into day,
my hope that dawn was about to break.
If all I have to look forward to is a home in the graveyard,
if my only hope for comfort is a well-built coffin,
If a family reunion means going six feet under,
and the only family that shows up is worms,
Do you call that hope?
Who on earth could find any hope in that?
No. If hope and I are to be buried together,
I suppose you'll all come to the double funeral!
Job 17:11-16, MSG
The man has reached absolute rock bottom. Death seems his only recourse, the one refuge of relief. Right now, the grave seems mighty inviting. You know what he's thinking?
Ev'rybody talkin' 'bout Heav'n ain't goin' there
Goin' to shout all over God's Heaven.6
You know what he's missing? He is missing what only grace can bring him. Hope. He has no grace from anybody around him, so he's left with no hope. Nobody there to reassure him. He is totally confused. He can't find his way.
Phillip Yancey in his outstanding book, Disappointment with God, tells this true story.
Once a friend of mine went swimming in a large lake at dusk. As he was paddling at a leisurely pace about a hundred yards offshore, a freak evening fog rolled in across the water. Suddenly he could see nothing: no horizon, no landmarks, no objects or lights on shore. Because the fog diffused all light, he could not even make out the direction of the setting sun.
For thirty minutes he splashed around in panic. He would start off in one direction, lose confidence, and turn ninety degrees to the right. Or left---it made no difference which way he turned. He could feel his heart racing uncontrollably. He would stop and float, trying to conserve energy, and force himself to breathe slower. Then he would blindly strike out again. At last he heard a faint voice calling from shore. He pointed his body toward the sounds and followed them to safety.
Something like that sensation of utter lostness must have settled in on Job as he sat in the rubble and tried to comprehend what had happened. He too had lost all landmarks, all points of orientation. Where should he turn? God, the One who could guide him through the fog, stayed silent.
The whole point of The Wager was to keep Job in the dark. If God had delivered an inspiring pep talk---"Do this for me, Job, as a Knight of Faith, as a martyr"---then Job, ennobled, would have suffered gladly. But Satan had challenged whether Job's faith could survive with no outside help or explanation. When God accepted those terms, the fog rolled in around Job.
God ultimately "won" The Wager, of course. Though Job lashed out with a stream of bitter complaints, and though he despaired of life and longed for death, still he defiantly refused to give up on God: "Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him." Job believed when there was no reason to believe. He believed in the midst of the fog.
You could read Job's story, puzzle over The Wager, then breathe a deep sigh of relief: Phew! God settled that problem. After proving his point so decisively, surely he will return to his preferred style of communicating clearly with his followers. You could think so---unless, that is, you read the rest of the Bible. I hesitate to say this, because it is a hard truth and one I do not want to acknowledge, but Job stands as merely the most extreme example of what appears to be a universal law of faith. The kind of faith God values seems to develop best when everything fuzzes over, when God stays silent, when the fog rolls in.7
NEEDED: A LOT OF GRACE
You know why I love the Bible? Because it's so real. There's a lot of fog rolling into Job's life just like in our lives. On this earth nobody "lives happily ever after." That line is a huge fairy tale. You're living in a dream world if you're waiting for things to get "happy ever after." That's why we need grace. Marriage doesn't get easier, it gets harder. So we need grace to keep it together. Work doesn't get easier, it gets more complicated, so we need grace to stay on the job. Childrearing doesn't get easier. You who have babies one, two, three years old---you think you've got it tough. Wait until they're fourteen. Or eighteen. Talk about needing grace!
Everything gets harder. You thought you were fat when you got married. Take a glance in the mirror this evening. That's why I often tell brides and grooms, "Enjoy the wedding pictures; you'll never be thinner." That's tough to face, but it's the truth. So? We need grace as we gain weight! We need grace to go on! Grace and more grace--- God's grace. We need grace to relate to each other. We need grace to drive. We need grace to stay positive. We need grace to keep a church in unity. We need grace to be good neighbors. We really need grace as we get older. Let's never forget what Job's treatment teaches: When folks are out of hope, don't kick 'em, don't hold 'em under. Administer grace! Lots of grace.
I'll be painfully honest here. If I called the shots, I would have relieved Job five minutes after he lost everything. I'd have brought all his kids back to life the very next day. I would have immediately re-created everything he lost, and I would really deal with those sorry comforters! I'd have cut the lips off of Eliphaz after about three sentences. And if that didn't shut him up, I'd take the neck. I mean ... who needs that clod? But you know what? You would never mature under my kind of treatment. You'd just enjoy the comfort. We'd all go to picnics then on a motorcycle ride and have tons of fun. That's my style. Which explains why Cynthia says to me, "Honey, if everybody handled things like you wanted, all we'd bring to the party is balloons. Nobody would think to bring the food." As usual, she's right.
So, the fog's rolled in. As all hell breaks loose, grace takes a hike. Welcome to the human race, Job.
I started this chapter with an old song. I'll end it with an even older one.
Thru many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.8
That's the ticket. Even in the fog, grace will lead us home. Our dear, beat-up friend, Job, thinks he's going to miss heaven. He's so miserable he's not even thinking beyond the grave. We understand. We know there is a tomorrow and by God's grace there is a home beyond. Job can't see it right now. The fog's too thick. Everything has fuzzed over. If you listen closely, you can almost hear him humming that tune. He can't get it off his mind:
Ev'rybody talkin' 'bout Heav'n ain't goin' there
Heav'n, Heav'n ... [127-145]
1. "Going to Shout All Over God's Heaven," Negro spiritual. Public domain.
2. Denise Banderman, "GrAce" (Hannibal, MO: Christianity Today.com, 2002) www.gospelcom.net/peggiesplace/tnt22a.htm. Used by permission.
3. Lucy Mabery-Foster story as related by Chuck Swindoll. Used by permission.
4. John E. Hartley, The Book of Job (NICOT) (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1988) 257. Used by permission.
5. C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York, NY: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1961), 9. C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. Extract reprinted by permission.
6. "Going to Shout All Over God's Heaven," Negro spiritual. Public domain.
7. Philip Yancey, Disappointment with God (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House, 1988) 203-204. Used by permission of The Zondervan Corporation.
8. "Amazing Grace," John Newton. Public domain.
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