The land of Uz was, to put it mildly, having a bit of a moment. And at the center of it all was Job, a man so patient he could watch a pot never boil and still compliment the water on its commitment to staying liquid.

It started, as these things often do, on a Tuesday. Job’s entire portfolio of sheep, camels, and oxen was wiped out by a series of increasingly specific and bizarre disasters—a sort of divine, targeted strike. Then his house collapsed on his children during a surprisingly aggressive HOA meeting.

Through it all, Job sighed, stroked his magnificent beard, and said, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

His wife, Zara, stared at him. “Are you kidding me? The ‘Lord’ just repossessed our entire lives. Curse him and let’s go get a latte or something!”

“Now, now, my dear,” Job said calmly. “Let’s not be hasty. I’m sure there’s a divine plan here. Perhaps our camels were part of a celestial pyramid scheme we didn’t understand.”

Then he broke out in oozing, painful boils from head to toe. He looked less like a man and more like a poorly made Rice Krispies treat.

He took a seat on a nearby ash heap, scratching himself with a piece of broken pottery. “A bit itchy,” he admitted. “But I remain a steadfast customer in the Lord’s mysterious customer service department.”

This is when his three friends showed up: Eliphaz the Theological, Bildad the Traditional, and Zophar the Zealous. They wept, tore their robes, and sat with him in silence for seven days.

Job was touched. “Such good friends,” he whispered.

On the eighth day, Eliphaz cleared his throat. “Okay, time’s up. Job, buddy, you must have done something terrible. Hidden sin? Thought crime? Did you forget to tithe your mint and cumin?”

“Yeah,” Bildad chimed in. “God doesn’t just smite the innocent. This is a classic cause-and-effect smiting. Repent of… whatever it is.”

Zophar, not to be outdone, added, “Frankly, you’re probably getting off easy. You should be more afflicted for your secret, unspecified crimes.”

For weeks, this was the routine. Job would scratch a boil, defend his basic decency, and his friends would respond with theological jargon that essentially boiled down to: “Skill issue.”

At first, Job was patient. “I appreciate your perspective, Eliphaz, but I really don’t think I worshipped any golden calves this year.”

But the patience began to wear thin. It started with the little things.

“Could you pass the ash?” Bildad asked one afternoon.

“Get your own ash,” Job muttered under his breath.

“What was that, brother?”

“I said, ‘The Lord provides the ash!’” Job said through a strained smile.

The final straw came during a particularly heated debate. Zophar was droning on about the inscrutable wisdom of divine wrath when a fly, attracted to the general aura of misery and open sores, buzzed directly into Job’s ear.

It was the wrong fly, in the wrong ear, at the wrong time.

Something in Job snapped. He’d lost his wealth, his health, and his children. He could tolerate that. But he could not tolerate one more minute of terrible advice and this fly.

He stood up, his boils pulsating with newfound rage. He waved his piece of pottery wildly in the air.

“ENOUGH!” he bellowed, startling his three friends into silence. “Just… enough! Screw it! I’m done!”

Eliphaz gasped. “Job! Such language!”

“You want to know my sin?” Job yelled, pointing the shard at them. “My sin is not telling you three to shut up seven days ago! You’re the worst comforters in the history of suffering! Your counsel is about as useful as a screen door on a chariot!”

He turned his face to the heavens. “And YOU! A little warning next time? A text? A prophetic DM? ‘Hey Job, gonna test you today, maybe pack a lunch.’ Was the boils-and-ooze aesthetic really necessary? I look like I lost a fight with a beehive and a glue factory! I’ve been patient! I’ve been faithful! And for what? So I can be the main character in a celestial bet between you and the Accuser? This is a terrible business model!”

A stunned silence fell over the ash heap. His friends were aghast. His wife, from a distance, gave him a slow clap.

Suddenly, the sky darkened. A whirlwind appeared, and a Voice, deep and resonant, echoed across the land.

“WHO IS THIS THAT DARKENS COUNSEL WITH WORDS WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE?”

Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar immediately dove behind the ash heap, leaving Job alone.

Job gulped. “Oh, crap.”

For the next several chapters, God proceeded to list His divine credentials. Had Job laid the foundations of the earth? Could he tell the morning sun where to rise? Did he know the way to the dwelling of light? Could he hook a leash on Leviathan and take it for a walk?

Job, feeling very small, finally whispered, “I have uttered what I did not understand. My ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you. And also, my eyes have seen that I should probably put a sock in it.”

God, mercifully, seemed more amused than angry. He turned to the three friends cowering behind the pile of ash. “You three. Your advice was terrible. I am not angry with Job for his honest, if slightly dramatic, feedback. I am angry with you. Now go get seven bulls and seven rams and have Job pray for you, because you are in big trouble.”

And so, Job’s fortunes were restored twofold. He got new sheep, new camels, new oxen, and new, slightly less-annoying children.

But he was never quite the same. Years later, at a family barbecue, his wife would ask him to pass the hummus.

He’d look at the sky, then back at her. “You know, I could,” he’d say. “But have you considered the cosmic implications of such an act? Where does the chickpea end and the divine will begin?”

Then he’d pass the hummus. But he’d do it with a new, healthy dose of sass. His patience, it turned out, wasn’t gone. It had just finally learned to talk back.

And, you know, I mustn’t neglect the obligatory shameless self-promotion. New Yesterdays is available through the following links: Books-A-Million, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon as well as your favorite bookshops. The Audiobook is available from Libro.fm, as well as Amazon.