If it weren’t for the chapter title, “The Gathering Dark,” you wouldn’t know from chapter 2 of The Shack that anything bad is on the horizon.  The chapter tells the story of Mack’s camping trip with his three children to the Columbia River Gorge in Oregon.

“That evening, as he sat between three laughing children watching one of nature’s greatest shows, Mack’s heart was suddenly penetrated by an unexpected joy.  A sunset of brilliant colors and patterns played off the few clouds that had waited in the wings to become central actors in this unique presentation.  He was a rich man, he thought to himself, in all the ways that mattered.”  (page 29, italics added)

Do you ever feel like that?  Do you find yourself sitting comfortably in a nice home, with those you love gathered around, just soaking in life’s blessings?  Sure, there are some minor inconveniences – and maybe even some major tests from time to time – but mostly the “really bad stuff” seems to happen to someone else, somewhere else.

At such times, is it spiritually and emotionally healthy or unhealthy to ponder what could happen?  If you’re Job at the opening of the book, sitting pretty with your ten children, 10,000 domesticated animals, and “large number of servants,” should you be wondering if a possible disaster is imminent?

It seems to me that living under the assumption, “it can’t happen to me,” is not trust – it’s presumption.  Job’s responses, “The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised” (1:21) and “Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” (2:10) did not emerge in a vacuum.

Job had considered the possibility of catastrophe, as Habakkuk did Habakkuk 3:17-18.  He had already decided, “If the worst happens, I will choose trust.  I will choose hope.”