Job 6:9
That God would please -- and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!
That God would please -- and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!
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8 O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!
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?
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.
10 Turn aside from off me Thy stroke, From the striving of Thy hand I have been consumed.
20 Are not my days few? Cease then, and put from me, And I brighten up a little,
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.
13 Keep silent from me, and I speak, And pass over me doth what?
14 Wherefore do I take my flesh in my teeth? And my soul put in my hand?
15 Lo, He doth slay me -- I wait not! Only, my ways unto His face I argue.
2 O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together!
3 For now, than the sands of the sea it is heavier, Therefore my words have been rash.
4 For arrows of the Mighty `are' with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves `for' me!
6 Know now, that God turned me upside down, And His net against me hath set round,
3 And now, O Jehovah, take, I pray Thee, my soul from me, for better `is' my death than my life.'
11 My ways He is turning aside, and He pulleth me in pieces, He hath made me a desolation.
23 Who doth grant now, That my words may be written? Who doth grant that in a book they may be graven?
15 and if thus Thou art doing to me -- slay me, I pray Thee; slay, if I have found grace in thine eyes, and let me not look on mine affliction.'
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.
34 He doth turn aside from off me his rod, And His terror doth not make me afraid,
10 He breaketh me down round about, and I go, And removeth like a tree my hope.
18 And why from the womb Hast Thou brought me forth? I expire, and the eye doth not see me.
31 Then in corruption Thou dost dip me, And my garments have abominated me.
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.
21 Pity me, pity me, ye my friends, For the hand of God hath stricken against me.
3 O that I had known -- and I find Him, I come in unto His seat,
19 Who `is' he that doth strive with me? For now I keep silent and gasp.
23 And, Deliver me from the hand of an adversary? And, From the hand of terrible ones ransom me?
13 Is not my help with me, And substance driven from me?
8 Thy hands have taken pains about me, And they make me together round about, And Thou swallowest me up!
8 Let me sow -- and another eat, And my products let be rooted out.
22 It is the same thing, therefore I said, `The perfect and the wicked He is consuming.'
29 If I rejoice at the ruin of my hater, And stirred up myself when evil found him,
8 Dost thou also make void My judgment? Dost thou condemn Me, That thou mayest be righteous?
6 In the abundance of power doth He strive with me? No! surely He putteth `it' in me.
7 There the upright doth reason with Him, And I escape for ever from my judge.
18 He permitteth me not to refresh my spirit, But filleth me with bitter things.
21 Thy hand put far off from me, And Thy terror let not terrify me.
5 And yet, O that God had spoken! And doth open His lips with thee.
12 My sojourning hath departed, And been removed from me as a shepherd's tent, I have drawn together, as a weaver, my life, By weakness it cutteth me off, From day unto night Thou dost end me.
13 Be pleased, O Jehovah, to deliver me, O Jehovah, for my help make haste.
13 Look from me, and I brighten up before I go and am not!
8 Yet I -- I inquire for God, And for God I give my word,
18 My refreshing for me `is' sorrow, For me my heart `is' sick.
35 Who giveth to me a hearing? lo, my mark. The Mighty One doth answer me, And a bill hath mine adversary written.
22 And it casteth at him, and doth not spare, From its hand he diligently fleeth.
36 My Father! let Job be tried -- unto victory, Because of answers for men of iniquity,
12 For a fire it `is', to destruction it consumeth, And among all mine increase doth take root,