I have been “leaning into” the book called The Gospel According to Job lately…the subject of suffering is a hot bed of emotions in the human realm. The one million light bulbs that go off in my head like some crazy paparazzi event when I contemplate truly suffering usually sends me into an endorphin crisis. Some have said to me “well, if you had more faith…blah blah blah…” ( God is the one who gives faith and I Love that. He will measure out to me the Faith and Grace and Mercy I need from his very own hand he gives it to me).
I am seeing more clearly what is the heart of Job. He has become a friend to me. He is what is called a “type” of Jesus (foretold in the Ancient Testament). Job had unmerited suffering put upon him. It was allowed by God. (This right here will upset many of you but I believe God can allow whatever he sees best to befall anyone. I believe this because I know that God is more Good and more wild and transcendent and more terrifyingly wonderful than I have ever even begun to know!!!) Job was a man who pleased God yet lost all his family and home. All of his children in one day…cannot even go there!
Anyway I am saying all of that to say the story of Job is not about suffering in the way I always use to think, even though suffering is well displayed in its pages. The story of Job is that for him the worst thing that could ever happen was that he might lose his Peace with God…think about that.

More than children, health, wealth, reputation, marriage, friends…more than any of those glorious wonderful things what Job feared and cried and anguished over was losing his relationship with his creator. He knew that no matter what things appear to be that God is good and that God is Peace…hmmmm a lot for this woman to ponder…just saying… #keeplearning

As I reflect on the beginning of my sixty- second year on earth I find my self thinking abstract thoughts. One in particular keeps surfacing…I am a loyal person. If I have become a friend, mentor, or professional colleague the odds are that I am loyal to that role. I am loyal to the name my Dad and Mom gave me, Shauna Jill Autrey. I am proud to carry the name of my father and his father before me. I am loyal to the name my husband Bob gave me, Dorman. With that name I was bestowed upon the honorable name Wife and Mother and now grandmother…Dodi. I am loyal to the name sister as well. Only two men in the whole world can call me sister.
In these names I find my role, my purpose, my dignity as well as my failures, successes, joys, grief, and even disappointment because after all, the One common denominator is me. My self and my human destiny. This loyalty to these names have produced a great story. Not one as noble as I wished perhaps but nevertheless it is my story. I am loyal to that story…I remain and will remain loyal to the good times and difficulties of childhood. The good certainly far outweighs the bad…college was a little rough though and my loyalty to my self slipped a bit. Overall, it’s the simple story of Redemption…the reality that I am part of The Fall…finding that all my loyalty to a name, a family, a faith in God could not give me the merit and absolution that lies between my creator and myself. In other words I was in darkness and separated from God…well the rest of the story is long but is turning out well…I have Jesus to thank for it all. I am to be given a new name in due time. I  not know what it is yet…it is a name given to me by the One who is called Faithful and True! Now THAT is a name I can be loyal to and real with…so I continue on and head gladly into my sixth decade. I loyally carry my earthly names and give them without fear or regret to The Holy One and with incredible longing I look forward to the new name that Jesus himself has promised me on that Day…
“I will also give them a white stone, and on the stone a New name is inscribed that no one knows except the one who receives it…”

…I could see a long white road coming from the gatehouse in the East. A long bailey stretched out both to the east and west, enclosed by a strong stone wall. A rose-gold sun was setting as the last of day was dying but all I could feel pumping in my veins was a pulsating voice that sang, “Life, life, life!”
The closer I approached the higher the walls beyond the gate appeared to be. I knew there would be no chance of my acceptance in such a grand place. It took all my nerve to continue walking. In a lifetime before this moment, which now seemed merely a few days total I had been crushed by the pain and joy of life yet something inside my heart kept me on the journey…as I stood trembling unable to proceed a man I thought to be a beggar on the road spoke to me, “Why do you linger daughter?” His tabard, though of fine wool, was tattered and worn and soiled. Upon it was a coat of arms that I knew not what it meant. The coat, I could see, had once been a rich majestic purple in color but now was faded I supposed by sun, rain, and travel. Upon the coat of arms in fine gold embroidery stood twelve golden crowns upon the head of a magnificent lion standing on its hind…
I fell to my knees and begin to weep. I did not know why. The tears were a mixture of relief, grief, joy, and blood with the salty taste of the human mixed within. They were my tears…they were peaceful, restful, relieving tears.
This man must surely be noble I thought as my tears subsided yet my mind raced. He did not look handsome like I always thought a royal would look nor was he tall in statue. This must not be a princely man I thought, perhaps he stole the tabard. I began to panic a little but as the beggar prince approached me I felt more and more peace within and I simply whispered are you He? A scarred and rough worn hand reached toward me and lifted my face up and the man gently said, “I, AM.”