Job 13:14
Wherefore do I take my flesh in my teeth? And my soul put in my hand?
Wherefore do I take my flesh in my teeth? And my soul put in my hand?
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15 Lo, He doth slay me -- I wait not! Only, my ways unto His face I argue.
13 Keep silent from me, and I speak, And pass over me doth what?
19 Who `is' he that doth strive with me? For now I keep silent and gasp.
20 Only two things, O God, do with me: Then from Thy face I am not hidden.
21 Thy hand put far off from me, And Thy terror let not terrify me.
22 And call Thou, and I -- I answer, Or -- I speak, and answer Thou me.
9 That God would please -- and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!
10 And yet it is my comfort, (And I exult in pain -- He doth not spare,) That I have not hidden The sayings of the Holy One.
11 What `is' my power that I should hope? And what mine end That I should prolong my life?
15 And my soul chooseth strangling, Death rather than my bones.
16 I have wasted away -- not to the age do I live. Cease from me, for my days `are' vanity.
20 To my skin and to my flesh Cleaved hath my bone, And I deliver myself with the skin of my teeth.
21 Pity me, pity me, ye my friends, For the hand of God hath stricken against me.
4 I -- to man `is' my complaint? and if `so', wherefore May not my temper become short?
20 Are not my days few? Cease then, and put from me, And I brighten up a little,
22 My shoulder from its blade let fall, And mine arm from the bone be broken.
23 For a dread unto me `is' calamity `from' God, And because of His excellency I am not able.
11 Also I -- I withhold not my mouth -- I speak in the distress of my spirit, I talk in the bitterness of my soul.
13 O that in Sheol Thou wouldst conceal me, Hide me till the turning of Thine anger, Set for me a limit, and remember me.
14 If a man dieth -- doth he revive? All days of my warfare I wait, till my change come.
13 Is not my help with me, And substance driven from me?
34 He doth turn aside from off me his rod, And His terror doth not make me afraid,
35 I speak, and do not fear Him, But I am not right with myself.
26 And after my skin hath compassed this `body', Then from my flesh I see God:
27 Whom I -- I see on my side, And mine eyes have beheld, and not a stranger, Consumed have been my reins in my bosom.
1 My soul hath been weary of my life, I leave off my talking to myself, I speak in the bitterness of my soul.
2 I say unto God, `Do not condemn me, Let me know why Thou dost strive `with' me.
5 Pollution to me -- if I justify you, Till I expire I turn not aside mine integrity from me.
6 On my righteousness I have laid hold, And I do not let it go, My heart doth not reproach me while I live.
13 For thou turnest against God thy spirit? And hast brought out words from thy mouth:
24 Why dost Thou hide Thy face? And reckonest me for an enemy to Thee?
3 Yet I for the Mighty One do speak, And to argue for God I delight.
10 Turn aside from off me Thy stroke, From the striving of Thy hand I have been consumed.
3 And now, O Jehovah, take, I pray Thee, my soul from me, for better `is' my death than my life.'
15 -- What do I say? seeing He said to me, And He Himself hath wrought, I go softly all my years for the bitterness of my soul.
9 `And he saith unto me, Stand, I pray thee, over me, and put me to death, for seized me hath the arrow, for all my soul `is' still in me.
5 Or -- he doth take hold on My strength, He doth make peace with Me, Peace he doth make with Me.
5 Yet, put forth, I pray Thee, Thy hand, and strike unto his bone and unto his flesh -- if not: unto Thy face he doth bless Thee!'
9 His anger hath torn, and he hateth me, He hath gnashed at me with his teeth, My adversary sharpeneth his eyes for me.
7 There the upright doth reason with Him, And I escape for ever from my judge.
13 I have set `Him' till morning as a lion, So doth He break all my bones, From day unto night Thou dost end me.
40 For I lift up unto the heavens My hand, And have said, I live -- to the age!
4 He hath worn out my flesh and my skin. He hath broken my bones.
4 For arrows of the Mighty `are' with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves `for' me!
12 At ease I have been, and he breaketh me, And he hath laid hold on my neck, And he breaketh me in pieces, And he raiseth me to him for a mark.
15 Sackcloth I have sewed on my skin, And have rolled in the dust my horn.
2 God liveth! He turned aside my judgment, And the Mighty -- He made my soul bitter.
3 For all the while my breath `is' in me, And the spirit of God in my nostrils.
14 How much less do I -- I answer Him? Choose out my words with Him?
25 For he stretched out against God his hand, And against the Mighty he maketh himself mighty.