08/30/2026
Sometimes I think we, as the Bride, need a good Job 38 reminder.
We spend hours worshiping the Lord for His goodness, His mercy, His kindness and His love—and beloved, He is absolutely ALL of those things. But He is also the God whom the wind obeys. The God who tells the sea where to stop. The God who opened the earth in judgment. He is HOLY. He is righteous. He is sovereign. He holds all authority, all power and all judgment.
To see Him rightly, we have to be willing to see Him fully. And when we begin to see Him fully...there is AWE.
Put yourself in Job's shoes for a minute. You are at the absolute end of yourself. You have experienced loss, suffering and tragedy beyond what most of us could imagine. And the crazy part? Heaven had spoken WELL of Job.
Then God shows up—in a storm.
“Who is this that obscures my plans with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me. Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand.” — Job 38:2–4
Whew.
And God just keeps going. Can you command the morning? Can you tell the oceans where to stop? Can you bind the stars? Does the lightning answer to you? Does creation move because YOU told it to?
Job wanted answers. Instead, God gave Job a revelation of WHO HE IS.
And beloved...THIS is the God who loves you. Sit with that for a minute.
The God whose voice creation obeys hears you when you cry out to Him. The God who needs absolutely NOTHING from you has chosen to draw you near. The God who has every right to correct you is also the God whose mercy has covered you.
This is where I think we've lost some of our awe. Because awe requires us to hold BOTH.
His goodness AND His severity. His mercy AND His righteousness. His tenderness AND His terrifying majesty. His nearness AND His holiness.
We don't have a loving God over here and a holy God over there. God is not divided.
The God who answered Job from the whirlwind is the same God who has revealed Himself to us in Christ. The eternal Son, through whom ALL things were made, took on flesh and stepped into His creation. The Holy One touched lepers. The King washed feet. The righteous One carried our sin to the cross.
Do you see the tension?
Isaiah sees the Lord and cries, “WOE IS ME!”...and the Lord provides cleansing. John was close enough to Jesus to lean against Him at supper, yet when he sees the glorified Christ in Revelation, he falls at His feet as though DEAD.
And Jesus reaches down, puts His hand on him and says, “Do not be afraid.”
THAT is awe.
I tremble...and I come closer.
Because the fear of the Lord isn't the absence of intimacy with Him. I think sometimes it is the RESULT of intimacy that has refused to make Him small. The closer I get, the more I realize WHO I have been invited near to.
Suddenly His tenderness becomes even more astonishing because I understand the majesty of the One being tender with me. His mercy becomes more overwhelming because I understand His righteousness. His invitation to come boldly becomes almost unbelievable because I understand WHOSE throne I have been invited to approach.
Hold both, beloved.
We LOVE to sing, “Hail, hail Lion of Judah...let the Lion roar.” And YES. LET THE LION ROAR.
But here's the uncomfortable question: What happens when the roar is pointed at us?
What happens when His holiness confronts something I've excused? When His Word contradicts something I've decided? When I desperately want an explanation and instead God reminds me that HE is God and I am not? What happens when the Lion I've been asking to roar looks directly at ME in correction?
Do I still call Him good? Do I bow? Do I repent? Do I worship? Or did I only want the Lion to roar at everybody else?
Whew.
Maybe maturity in Christ isn't finding the version of God that makes us most comfortable. Maybe it's learning to behold Him as He actually IS.
And when we do, His power becomes terrifying AND comforting. Because the One who commands creation is my Father. The One before whom nations are nothing has invited me near. The One who owes me absolutely nothing has lavished mercy upon me through Christ. The One whose holiness should bring me to my knees has made a way for me to come near.
And worship changes. It isn't only, “God, You have been so good to me.”
It becomes:
“My God...WHO ARE YOU that You would be this good to me?”
That's awe. Small before Him, yet loved by Him. Fearful of Him, yet running toward Him. Completely dependent. Completely overwhelmed. And somehow completely safe in the hands of the One I am trembling before.
Lord, give Your Bride eyes to see You as You are. Not merely the parts of You that comfort us. Not merely the parts that fit neatly into our worship songs.
Teach us to hold both. Restore the fear of the Lord to Your Bride.
And when the Lion roars—even when that roar is correcting US—may we still fall on our faces and worship.
