Susan LaffertyIsaac lay on the altar watching his father prepare to sacrifice. No sacrificial animal in sight. A strange place for a beloved child. It didn’t make sense. His father had said “The Lord will provide, my son,” but time was drawing near and here he was, bound on the altar of sacrifice. Unexpected. Unexplained.
We returned to Delhi the summer of 2012 and all I could see was the dust. It coated every leaf on every tree. It covered all surfaces outside and inside. A thorough cleaning of our apartment yielded little evidence of the hard work. A few hours later I was wiping off another fine layer of the stuff.
In the week before Easter, I’m reading the Book of Job. Plodding through the verbose ponderings of his “friends” as they opine and try to make sense of Job’s suffering and misery.
Job is not impressed.
“You are all miserable comforters. Is there no end to your empty words? …How long will you torment me and crush me with words?” (Job 16:1-2; 19:2).