Immerse: Poets Full Volume - Flipbook - Page 305
19:11-28
Job
He has uprooted my hope like a fallen tree.
His fury burns against me;
he counts me as an enemy.
His troops advance.
They build up roads to attack me.
They camp all around my tent.
“My relatives stay far away,
and my friends have turned against me.
My family is gone,
and my close friends have forgotten me.
My servants and maids consider me a stranger.
I am like a foreigner to them.
When I call my servant, he doesn’t come;
I have to plead with him!
My breath is repulsive to my wife.
I am rejected by my own family.
Even young children despise me.
When I stand to speak, they turn their backs on me.
My close friends detest me.
Those I loved have turned against me.
I have been reduced to skin and bones
and have escaped death by the skin of my teeth.
“Have mercy on me, my friends, have mercy,
for the hand of God has struck me.
Must you also persecute me, like God does?
Haven’t you chewed me up enough?
“Oh, that my words could be recorded.
Oh, that they could be inscribed on a monument,
carved with an iron chisel and filled with lead,
engraved forever in the rock.
“But as for me, I know that my Redeemer lives,
and he will stand upon the earth at last.
And after my body has decayed,
yet in my body I will see God!
I will see him for myself.
Yes, I will see him with my own eyes.
I am overwhelmed at the thought!
“How dare you go on persecuting me,
saying, ‘It’s his own fault’?
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