The Lord Giveth, and the Lord Taketh Away


Though He is the potter and we are but clay, this does not keep us from complaining about our station. When the God of heaven and earth, the One who made all things, asks if the clay will ask of the Potter, “Why have You made me thus?” the implication is crystal clear—clay is not supposed to do that. Indeed, it is comically out of place. The Apostle Paul takes up this imagery from Isaiah to answer that thorny question at the very heart of God’s sovereignty over men— why does God find fault with us, when He is sovereign over us?

Paul does not so much answer the question as remind us questioners of our utter lack of standing to ask it. But even we who embrace Paul’s answer, who delight in God’s sovereign power over us, still find ourselves grumbling against the Potter.

We are willing, of course, to leave our eternal destiny in His hands, remembering that He will have mercy on whom He will have mercy. We know ourselves well enough to know that if we were left to ourselves, we would speed headlong into the abyss, and so we give thanks that the Potter reshaped us in our regeneration such that we would freely but unalterably embrace the work of Christ on our behalf.

What it means that we are but clay and He is the Potter, however, runs much deeper. Paul is not just affirming that we need to be changed by God, though that is certainly true. He is not just arguing that God has the authority to do so, though that is certainly true as well. Instead, Paul is asserting that God has absolute authority over us, that we are not only under His power but under His ownership. We belong to Him. He may— indeed, He will— do with us exactly as He pleases for precisely His purposes.

In times of hardship I’ve been known to quote Job, “The Lord giveth. The Lord taketh. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” This is not being cavalier, not dismissing appropriate sorrow. Neither is this throwing up our hands as if to say, “Well, He’s God. Sometimes He’s good to us. Sometimes He’s mean. There’s nothing we can do about it.” Instead, this is an attempt to enter into our very purpose.

The Lord does give. He does take away. His name is to be blessed, however, not ultimately because of what He gives or what He takes away but because of who He is. He is worthy to be praised for His being, before He has blessed us or cursed us, before He has done anything at all. He is praiseworthy not because He is the perfect means to our own ends but because He is the end Himself.

That— His glory in who He is— is the ultimate reason why He makes some vessels for mercy and some for judgment. What we have to learn, however, is that— His glory in who He is— is the ultimate reason for our own existence. Our purpose, our telos, our reason for being, is not merely that we would speak words of praise while we live our lives but that our lives and everything in them would manifest His glory. He does not exist for our sake. Rather, we exist for His glory.

Job was, at the beginning of his story, the very picture of what our culture would call success. He was surrounded by family who loved him. He had servants in his employ. He was a man of character, and he was likely one of the wealthiest men in the world. In an escalating series of brief moments, as tragedy followed calamity on the heels of a dark providence, he lost it all. Well, almost all. The character remained.

Near the end, he slipped and brought his accusation against God. This piece of pottery did ask the Potter, “Why have you allowed my life to be smashed to pieces?” Quickly enough, though, he repented, recognizing whose life it actually was. He came to grasp that his calling wasn’t to pursue his wealth or his health, but that he was to pursue first the kingdom of God. His kingdom is that place where our Father’s absolute authority is joyfully recognized, humbly submitted to, and fervently celebrated, in all circumstances.

When we lay down our lives and take up His cross, we put to death our own agenda. His kingdom is our all in all. And this ought to put to death our every fear, for our single end is certain— He has been given all authority in heaven and on earth. He is bringing all things into subjection. He will come again, and every knee will bow, every tongue confess that He is Lord. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

This entry was posted in apologetics, assurance, Biblical Doctrines, Doctrines of Grace, kingdom, Kingdom Notes, RC Sproul JR, sovereignty, theology, wisdom, wonder, worship and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to The Lord Giveth, and the Lord Taketh Away

  1. Michael Earl Riemer says:

    I have a comment, I think would fit here. But its 812 words. Its from the ending of my book “7,000 Miles of Life Perspectives.” I will post it, only with your permission.

  2. Michael Earl Riemer says:

    Part 6 – Life’s Epilogue

    Every day of life leaves us one day closer to the end of our earthly existence, our expiration date, when our entry in God’s Book of Life will be inscribed. For me, each story I’ve included in this compilation has been duly noted in God’s Book. My secret sins, every event both major or minor, each word spoken, my every action and consideration—in sum, the totality of my life—are known to the Creator. This boundless archive exists for all who have ever lived and died.

    Everyone is a part of God’s marvelous master plan: the peculiar timing of weather events; an improbable meeting or miraculous chance encounter; a visit to a place you’d never been before, located in the middle of nowhere with someone you haven’t seen in decades; all contributes to a life of singular experiences. Whatever God orchestrates includes strategies and designs to carry out His purposes.

    Clearly, life presents an inconceivable number of variables. Yet, for those who are called according to His purpose, these unknowns work together for good. We don’t have to understand why evil exists, but must acknowledge God remains in control, no matter what. And remember the words of the prophet Jeremiah—despite a life filled with hardship, could still write: “But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men.” (Lamentations 3:32-33)

    Unbelievers, atheists, and pagans—whether they know it or not, their lives are tapestries, woven together and intertwined in accordance with God’s plan. And though they purpose evil, it hinders not the designs and intentions of God. Even mighty Pharaoh could not hinder God’s plan of deliverance for His people of Israel.
    As I ponder my past, I’ve come to realize the wonder of God’s provision, that out of tragic circumstances beneficial consequences can arise.

    Maribeth was working at a mall in Manila, when two close friends presented a catalog of American men looking to find a bride in the Philippines. She had no boyfriend at the time and wasn’t looking for a husband. Nevertheless, at the urging of her friends, she reluctantly chose just one name, one time. My name was in there, but no picture, just basic information: age, height, and so forth. Maribeth admitted later on, the main reason she wrote to me was she simply liked my name.

    That simple decision caused a felicitous chain of events for her and her family. Within two years of her arrival in the US, and marriage, we found out Maribeth needed heart surgery. Fortunately, I had good health insurance, which covered most of the cost. Back in the Philippines, she had no insurance and the cost for the operation presented an insurmountable expense. Even with the operation her life was short, but a whole lot longer had we never met.

    For those who love and serve the Lord, there will still be many trials and a great deal of pain. The just and unjust are equally susceptible to countless tribulations. I don’t understand how the tragic events I’ve described could possibly promote God’s plans, purposes, and objectives. In this regard, we are no different than Job, who struggled to understand God’s reasonings for the righteous to suffer so egregiously, through no fault of their own. Job lost everything—his health, wealth, his seven sons and three daughters. Only his wife survived, and she brought him no comfort, for when these calamities befell them, she lost her trust in God, and admonished him, “Dost thou still retain thine integrity? Curse God and die” (Job 2:9).

    As I advance in years, the longer the list grows of those I know who became widows and widowers. And some of those who read this book can be counted among that doleful assemblage. Others may be young, with many years of life before their final day. I suspect the majority will be seniors, who have seen the passage of many days and years. No matter your place on the list, you’ll still have gifts to contribute, wisdom to bestow, love to share, and the Lord’s work to complete. And at the end of our life’s journey, be it long or short, we will once again see our loved ones, in a place where death, nor pain, nor sorrow exist, and God wipes away all tears.

    So, this is my life, filled with love, punctuated by loss, conducted with purpose. Perhaps not extraordinary, but to those whose lives I’ve touched in various ways, whose souls I’ve inspired and inspirited, I have loomed large. With God at my side, my life has been—and shall continue to be—a life well led!

    “Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter:
    Fear God, and keep his commandments:
    for this is the whole duty of man.”

    – Ecclesiastes 12:13 –

Comments are closed.