Significant

"Convinced of the exception he was (or would be), he moved with lithe assurance through those years, patient with himself, patient with the world, wanting nothing more of God than the bounty of gifts that God had already provided." 

You read this.  Again.  You read, already biased against this "type".  The ease implied for this life in that description causes a rash of frustration, a seething envy.  What begins as a sniffle and a tickle in the throat spreads, consumes the body....

like envy.  There is an itch behind your ears, that spreads, around the wrists and ankles, an itch in the small of the back, unreachable, a ringing phone that can't be answered. 

You have a hunch.  An idea came to you that settled like a raven on your writing desk, another (off-hand) gesture by god, the provider, the sustainer.  The complainer in chief, Job, far fallen face down in the mud, understands the situation.  The emotion is not without contrast or context.  Having had, he has a greater sense of not having.  There is more meat and meaning in dispossession than there is in "simple" poverty...

(dilemma:  for starters, you are given a life that will last only 75 years.  you must choose.  either your life will be fifty years of ease and health and material comfort followed by twenty five years of anguish and suffering or--in reverse--you will experience twenty five years of torment that gives way  to fifty years of wealth and wonder...or...or...or...)

...but remember... In the end, Job's suffering comes with a whole banquet of bennies.  On the other side of the crucible, mango will taste a little sweeter; orgasms will last a little longer.  Like Frankl telegraphing from Auschwitz--the darkest and most petrifying corner of hell--we are still able to access the light and power of life.  If you can connect to that which some would call spirit, you cannot fail to be impressed by the resilience of that fire so much so that, later when you're slightly healed, you are not surprised in the least that those few embers are capable of consuming everything, of permeating the planet, the spaces between people, the words that they work into wrought-iron meaning, a series of signs....

and so it goes

Envy is like a cactus.  The prickly trick of the protective skin, while inside....

There is nectar, sustenance.   Each defensive layer serving to insulate the canteen, but just because one has recognized a handful of assets that may allow you to survive in the desert (or if you prefer, in the belly of a fish) it is no reason to settle there.  There are other latitudes more conducive to the joys of existence, the magic of being.