Job 23:16
And God hath made my heart soft, And the Mighty hath troubled me.
And God hath made my heart soft, And the Mighty hath troubled me.
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14 For He doth complete my portion, And many such things `are' with Him.
15 Therefore, from His presence I am troubled, I consider, and am afraid of Him.
23 For a dread unto me `is' calamity `from' God, And because of His excellency I am not able.
17 For I have not been cut off before darkness, And before me He covered thick darkness.
4 Wandered hath my heart, trembling hath terrified me, The twilight of my desire He hath made a fear to me,
4 My heart is pained within me, And terrors of death have fallen on me.
5 Fear and trembling come in to me, And horror doth cover me.
1 Also, at this my heart trembleth, And it moveth from its place.
4 And my spirit in me is become feeble, Within me is my heart become desolate.
14 Fear hath met me, and trembling, And the multitude of my bones caused to fear.
15 And a spirit before my face doth pass, Stand up doth the hair of my flesh;
6 Yea, if I have remembered, then I have been troubled. And my flesh hath taken fright.
25 For a fear I feared and it meeteth me, And what I was afraid of doth come to me.
26 I was not safe -- nor was I quiet -- Nor was I at rest -- and trouble cometh!
24 Terrify him do adversity and distress, They prevail over him As a king ready for a boaster.
7 Only, now, it hath wearied me; Thou hast desolated all my company,
4 For arrows of the Mighty `are' with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves `for' me!
21 For my heart doth show itself violent, And my reins prick themselves,
11 God shutteth me up unto the perverse, And to the hands of the wicked turneth me over.
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.
14 And thou hast affrighted me with dreams, And from visions thou terrifiest me,
34 He doth turn aside from off me his rod, And His terror doth not make me afraid,
11 My ways He is turning aside, and He pulleth me in pieces, He hath made me a desolation.
18 My refreshing for me `is' sorrow, For me my heart `is' sick.
15 He hath turned against me terrors, It pursueth as the wind mine abundance, And as a thick cloud, Hath my safety passed away.
16 And now, in me my soul poureth itself out, Seize me do days of affliction.
2 God liveth! He turned aside my judgment, And the Mighty -- He made my soul bitter.
3 I remember God, and make a noise, I meditate, and feeble is my spirit. Selah.
4 Thou hast taken hold of the watches of mine eyes, I have been moved, and I speak not.
21 Thy hand put far off from me, And Thy terror let not terrify 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.
6 In the abundance of power doth He strive with me? No! surely He putteth `it' in me.
8 I have been feeble and smitten -- unto excess, I have roared from disquietude of heart.
13 Is not my help with me, And substance driven from me?
21 Pity me, pity me, ye my friends, For the hand of God hath stricken against me.
28 I have been afraid of all my griefs, I have known that Thou dost not acquit me.
20 See, O Jehovah, for distress `is' to me, My bowels have been troubled, Turned hath been my heart in my midst, For I have greatly provoked, From without bereaved hath the sword, In the house `it is' as death.
16 I have heard, and my belly trembleth, At the noise have my lips quivered, Rottenness doth come into my bones, And in my place I do tremble, That I rest for a day of distress, At the coming up of the people, he overcometh it.
7 Lo, my terror doth not frighten thee, And my burden on thee is not heavy.
18 He permitteth me not to refresh my spirit, But filleth me with bitter things.
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.
15 Sackcloth I have sewed on my skin, And have rolled in the dust my horn.
16 My face is foul with weeping, And on mine eyelids `is' death-shade.
23 He hath humbled in the way my power, He hath shortened my days.
4 I -- to man `is' my complaint? and if `so', wherefore May not my temper become short?
8 My way He hedged up, and I pass not over, And on my paths darkness He placeth.
17 The distresses of my heart have enlarged themselves, From my distresses bring me out.
9 He hath hedged my ways with hewn work, My paths He hath made crooked.
27 My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Gone before me have days of affliction.