When God finally does speak, He answers Job out of a whirlwind. Suddenly, there He is! Wouldn’t it have been great for us to have been there? Whoosh! Lightning, loud thunder, mighty winds blowing dark clouds across the heavens, and out of nowhere God bursts on the scene. It must have taken Job’s breath away when the Lord “answered Job out of the whirlwind” (Job 38:1).
Many years ago (I was no more than ten years old) on a still and silent morning, long before dawn, I was fishing with my father. Our little fourteen-foot fishing boat was sitting on a slick, in a small body of water just this side of Matagorda Bay. We both had our lines in the water, and neither of us was saying a word. My dad was at the stern by the old twenty-five-horsepower Evinrude, and I was up near the bow of the boat. It was one of those mornings you could flip a penny onto the surface of the water and then count the ripples. It was silent as a tomb—almost eerie.
Suddenly, from the depths of the bay near the hull of our boat, comes this huge tarpon in full strength, bursting out of the water. He does a big-time flip in the air, then plunges with an enormous crash back into the bay. I must have jumped a foot off my wooden seat, shaking with fear. My dad didn’t even turn around. Still watching his line, he said quietly, “I told you the big ones were down there.”
That’s Elihu’s message. He is here, Job! Our awesome God—all glorious above. “Job, listen. He’s here. He isn’t always silent. When He speaks there is no voice like His.” Job’s view of God may have been enlarged, thanks to his friend’s final remarks.
When your God is too small, your problems are too big and you retreat in fear and insecurity. But when your God is great, your problems pale into insignificance and you stand in awe as you worship the King.
How big is your God? Big enough to intervene? Big enough to be trusted? Big enough to be held in awe and ultimate respect? Big enough to erase your worries and replace them with peace?
Remember: the more you know God, the bigger He becomes.
by Chuck Swindoll