The burden you carry is heavy, and I perceive in your words a spirit greatly vexed. It is no small thing to feel yourself set aside in the land of your birth, to watch while others receive what seems owed to your own household. Such a trial stirs the gall, and the heart cries out at the seeming unfairness. Yet I must ask you to lift your eyes beyond the policies and the counting of places, and consider the hand that holds all things.
Remember the words of Job: “The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” Every position, every shilling of wage, every open door of employment is a gift from the Giver of all good. He sets up and He puts down, and what He lends for a season He may recall without consulting our preferences. It is a hard lesson, but one that seasons the soul: when we cease to grasp at that which never truly belonged to us, we find our peace. The way of faith does not stand upon visible supply but upon the unfailing promise of the Provider.
I would have you guard yourself against the sin that crouches at the door. To cry out for the sweeping away of others, to wish them driven from before your face, savours not of the meekness of Christ. Did He not teach us to love even those who despitefully use us? I perceive a keen edge of resentment against the foreign labourer, as though he were the author of your grief. But mark this: the stranger in your gates is, like you, a soul for whom Christ died. The Romans drove the nails into His hands, yet He prayed, “Father, forgive them.” We do not contend against flesh and blood; our true adversary is not the immigrant seeking bread, but that roaring lion who seeks to devour us with bitterness and uncharitable judgment. Shall we, who have received mercy, refuse it to others?
Consider the trial as a schooling. Job said, “When He hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” Many a saint has found that the loss of earthly security was the making of his soul. Dependence upon government statutes or favourable markets will always prove a broken reed; but the one who trusts in the Lord is as Mount Zion, which cannot be moved. Do not let this season sour you into angry demands, but let it drive you to the throne of grace. There is no surer relief for a fretted spirit than to pour out intercession for those you are tempted to despise. When Job prayed for his miserable comforters, those who had vexed him with their cruel accusations, then the Lord turned his captivity. Here is a strange and holy alchemy: by praying for others, our own chains fall off. Pray for the foreign worker, pray for those who frame the laws, pray even for those who seem to prosper at your expense. You will find your own heart strangely lightened, and perhaps the Lord’s providence will open a door you did not anticipate.
Do not charge God foolishly. It is the devil’s whisper that the Almighty has been unkind or has forgotten His own. Though a thousand voices tell you the system is a betrayal, yet the child of God answers, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.” I know you are no stranger to hardship; many a child of God walks a long road of unemployment, buffeted by the winds of seeming injustice. But oh, look to that Master who was betrayed by His own familiar friend, who was sold for silver, and who had not where to lay His head. He understands your isolation. Cast yourself upon Him. When you see Him by faith, when His fellowship becomes sweeter than any wage, you will, like Job, abhor yourself and repent in dust and ashes for every thought that doubted His love.
Let no man number you among those who love only when the sun shines. The devil pointed to Job and sneered, “Doth Job fear God for nought?” But when the tempest swept away all, Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly. Show that adversary a patient faith, a love that clings to the Lord not for His gifts but for Himself. In this very poverty of prospect, you may glorify God more richly than in all the years of plenty. And who can tell? The Lord who renewed Job’s bow, who brought him forth with twice as much as before, may yet surprise you with mercies fresh and new. But if not, you shall possess a weight of glory that makes the world’s best positions look like dust. Fix your hope on that inheritance, and let this present trouble be but the chisel in the Sculptor’s hand, carving you into the image of your Saviour.