But Job answered and said….
If my grief and calamity were thoroughly weighed,
It would be beyond belief.
They would weigh more than the sand of the sea
And words could not express my grief.
The arrows of the Almighty are within me.
My spirit drinketh in the poison thereof.
The terror of God are against me
This all comes from God up above.
Does the wild donkey bray when he has grass?
Or does the ox low over its fodder?
Can tasteless food be eaten without salt?
Or does the white of an egg have flavor to savor?
My soul refuses to touch them;
They are loathsome food to me!
Oh, that I might have my request,
That God would grant me the things I desire.
Even that it would please God to crush me
That He would loose His hand and let me expire!
What strength do I have that I should hope?
Or why should I prolong my life, making it last?
Is my strength the strength of stones?
Or is my flesh composed of brass?
Is my help not within me?
Is my wisdom a thing of the past?
A friend should show pity for the one afflicted.
Even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.
My brethren have dealt deceitfully as a brook,
As the streams of a brook they pass away,
Which are dark because of the ice and in which the snow is hid.
When it is warm, they cease to flow,
When it is hot, they are consumed out of their place.
The paths of their way turn aside,
They go to nothing and vanish away.
The caravans of Tema looked,
The travelers of Sheba waited for them.
They were disappointed because they had hoped,
They came thither, and were ashamed.
For now you are nothing, you see my condition and are afraid.
Did I ask you to bring something unto me,
Or offer a bribe for me from your wealth?
Or deliver me from the enemy’s hand?
Or redeem me from the hand of the mighty?
Teach me, and I will shut my mouth;
Cause me to understand wherein I have erred!
Use sound words that have meaning,
Your arguing proved nothing nor showed you cared!
Do you intend to rebuke my words?
And your speeches are as desperate as wind.
Yes, you overwhelm the fatherless
And you dig a pit for your friend.
Now be content, look upon me,
For you can discern if I lie.
Yield now, let there be no injustice!
Yes, concede that my righteous still stands!
Is there injustice on my tongue?
Cannot my taste discern the unsavory things?
D. Arbaugh