When bad things occur, they frequently happen to the incorrect person. And when that happens, we are always left with that haunting query, “Why?” Somewhere in all this, there’s room for the tale of Job.

For, as we have learned, a better man never lived in his day. He wasn’t only a good man, he used to be a godly man. He wasn’t only a unswerving hubby, he used to be a loving and devoted pa.

With lots of land, a surplus of food, and acceptable stock and camels to back Job’s dreams, it looked as if his whole future would be a downward slide. I imagine that in the fight of that first fitful night, making an attempt to sleep after burying all 10 kids with his very own hands, laying alongside his mourning better half who had also endured the loss, much of what had occurred was still a blur. I have talked to a few of those officials who were in the building at that point.

One admitted to his very own humiliation, “It never dawned on many of us the Pentagon was next.” We may never know for sure if the 3rd plane was looking to find the government and, thanks to the foliage of mid-September, could not do so. The pilot, in his exasperating plan to collapse the plane, spotted this five-sided building and tore a hole two hundred feet wide because of a double explosion—first from the plane itself crashing into the building and then the igniting of the fuel that sent fire down the wide corridor. At least it was not fair from our point of view. He had blest his Pa ; in reality, he had worshiped Him, and Devil could not stand it.