The story of Jabez is contained in just two verses of Scripture, 1 Chronicles 4:9, 10, which appear in the middle of a chronology. An interruption? An interjection? Why? The truth about these two verses is worthy of a closer look.
Cause for Celebration Denied
The birth of a male child was cause for celebration. Instead, his mother seems to have spoken negativity into his life on arrival. She named him Jabez, a name that meant “pain,” a label of sorts given to him by the most significant of family members, his mother. She then appears to rationalize, to justify the unflattering label by pointing to her own experience: “I gave birth to him in pain” (1 Chron. 4:9).*
Did she not get the memo? Did she not get the “thus saith the Lord”? God had said in Genesis 3:16, “I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor you will give birth to children.” Why would she think that she was the exception, that she would somehow be exempt?
Usually, and I have lived it, when that beautiful bundle of joy is placed in our arms as mothers, it is the ultimate distraction. The travail, the labor, is soon forgotten.
The Bible concurs: “A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world” (John 16:21).
Unfortunately, in this instance that is not the case. Instead, it seems Jabez’s mother was so fixated on the negative aspects of the birthing process that she gave her child a name that kept the negative memory going. “Pain” will always be his name, a name predicated on her experience.
A Man Called Pain
Truth be told, a name can be the most powerful of labels, limiting, affecting the way a person feels about themselves and how others perceive them. Jabez’s life may have seemed to him a fateful fulfillment of his name.
Think about it for a minute. Who wants to be friends with, married to, or do business with a man called pain? Society seeks cures for pain, striving to eradicate it. Might parents not have wanted their children to play with a boy named pain? In this and other ways, might his name have affected his self-esteem and compromised his ability to build relationships?
Whatever the case, the man called pain cried out to the God of Israel.
Forget the labels and dare to run against the world that has said you do not and will not amount to anything.
The Cry
His cry to God is his search for deliverance from a seemingly inescapable fate: “Keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” But his plea is more than mere escapism: “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain” (1 Chron. 4:10). “And God granted his request” (verse 10).
Jabez asked for a blessing that would free him from a curse. He prayed for more territory because he felt boxed in from opportunities and growth. He requested the Lord’s hand of protection because he at times felt lost and vulnerable. He sought the Lord’s hand in guidance so he could find his way in life. His prayer was honest, specific, and to a God acquainted with griefs, who carries our sorrows (see Isa. 53:4).
And God answered his prayer.
Notice the intensity of Jabez’s passion. This was no simple prayer. The text says that he “cried out.”
We cry out in pain. We cry out when we are in agony. We cry out when we’re crushed, afraid, and alone, whether our pain is emotional, physical, or situational.
Israel, under Pharaoh’s tyranny, “cried out” to the Lord (Ex. 14:10). Christ’s disciples “cried out in fear” when they saw what they thought was a ghost coming toward them on the water (Matt. 14:26). Peter cried out when he thought he was about to be swallowed up by an angry sea (Matt. 14:30). Blind Bartimaeus, who had sat in darkness for years, cried out to God for sight (Mark 10:46-48). Jonah cried unto the Lord from the belly of a great fish (Jonah 2:2-9).
Most, if not all, of us have been caught in the storms of life or trapped in its low places, unable to see a way up and out. And if you haven’t been, your turn may not be far distant. Still, we all may be assured that things change when we cry out to God.
Jabez and Us, the Rebrand
When God rewrote Jabez’s story, his latter days followed paths of inspiration unknown in his former days. He became a man “more honorable than his brothers” (1 Chron. 4:9). His mother had named him for the pain and suffering she endured, but God, the Omnipotent One who is able to speak light to darkness, order to chaos, and fill void with plenty, renamed him for honor without even tampering with his birth certificate. Oh, what a blessing! Jabez, who believed by faith and God answered, stepped into an improved spiritual and social status, a better brand, a fresh and fantastic future.
Jabez’s God made a striking statement regarding His people. “I know the plans I have for you,” He declares, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jer. 29:11). God’s declaration is no simple say-so. His word never returns empty. It will certainly accomplish exactly what He says (Isa. 55:11). With Jabez’s prayer and Jabez’s Lord we may wait in faith for heaven to grant us as well an answer of blessing, prosperity, and protection from harm such as came to Jabez in response to his requests—whether or not such blessings from God come in this life, they are assured to all believers in the life to come.
Voices of negativity and debilitating criticism may at times speak under the label of “constructive criticism.” Nevertheless, even when they rise from ostensibly friendly sources (as with Jabez’s own mother), they may strike their victim as barbs delivered from the weaponry of one whose name and job description involves accusing God’s children (see Rev. 12:10).
But inspired by the Jabez story, we may celebrate with the loud voice from heaven that cries out, not in desperate pain, but with fervent joy, “The accuser of our brothers and sisters, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down” (Rev. 12:10).
So forget the labels and dare to run against the world that has said you do not and will not amount to anything. Maybe they say you’re the family’s sore thumb, the community’s embarrassment, the society’s misfit. But whether the barbs come at you from outside or simply churn inside your own head, the story of Jabez offers an alternative for your story.
Jabez reached beyond the painful legacy of his own mother’s inability to rise above the pain, to reach the ear of a God who listens, hears, and answers because He cares. Words from the psalmist correspond to Jabez’s final contentment: “I love the Lord, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy.Because he turned his ear to me, I will call on him as long as I live” (Ps. 116:1, 2).
Dear God, we all need You without exception. We really need You. We need You to move in our situations and transform our lives. Many of us have been labeled. We feel unloved and unwanted. In short, we have been led to believe that we are not good enough. Sometimes these feelings of inadequacy prevent us from coming before You to ask for help. May we believe that You truly love us and that we are what You say we are, fearfully and wonderfully made. May we accept and believe the declaration You have made on our lives and that all will be well in the end.
Jabez, two verses, in the middle of a chronology, but what a lesson they teach about the transformative power of the God who cares for us.
* All biblical quotations are from the New International Version.
