The Lantern

Job10

Job’s Plea to God

My soul loathes my life. I will let loose my complaint upon me; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.

I will say to God: Do not condemn me. Let me know why you contend with me.

Is it good to you that you should oppress, that you should reject the labor of your hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked?

Do you have eyes of flesh? Or do you see as a mortal sees?

Are your days like the days of a mortal? Are your years like the days of a man,

that you seek out my iniquity and search after my sin —

though you know that I am not guilty, and there is no deliverer from your hand?

Your hands shaped me and made me, all around together — and you swallow me up.

Remember, please, that you made me like clay; and to the dust you will return me.

Did you not pour me out like milk, and curdle me like cheese?

With skin and flesh you clothed me, and with bones and sinews you wove me.

Life and loyal love you did with me, and your visitation kept my spirit.

And these things you hid in your heart; I know that this was with you:

if I sinned, then you would watch me, and you would not acquit me of my iniquity.

If I were guilty — woe to me. And if I were righteous, I could not lift my head; I am full of shame, and look upon my affliction.

And if it lifts itself up, you hunt me like a lion; and you turn back and show yourself wonderful against me.

You renew your witnesses against me, and increase your vexation with me — changes and a host are with me.

And why did you bring me out from the womb? I would have expired, and no eye would have seen me.

I would be as though I had not been; I would have been carried from the belly to the grave.

Are not my days few? Let him cease, and set himself away from me, that I may be cheerful a little,

before I go — and I shall not return — to the land of darkness and the shadow of death;

a land of gloom, like darkness itself; of the shadow of death, and without order; and it shines like darkness.