Job 17
Job’s hope in God: he expects rest in death.
1My spirit will be wasted, my days will be shortened, and only the grave will be left for me. 2I have not sinned, yet my eye remains in bitterness. ▼ 3Free me, O Lord, and set me beside you, and let the hand of anyone you wish fight against me. 4You have set their heart far from discipline; therefore, they will not be praised. 5He promises prey to his companions, but the eyes of his sons will grow faint. 6He has posted me like a proverb to the people, and I am an example in their presence. 7My eyesight has been clouded by indignation, and my limbs have been reduced, as if to nothing. 8The just will be astounded over this, and the innocent will be stirred up against the hypocrite. 9And the just will cling to his way, and clean hands will increase strength. 10Therefore, be converted, all of you, and approach, for I do not find in you any wisdom. 11My days have passed away; my thoughts have been scattered, tormenting my heart. 12They have turned night into day, and I hope for light again after the darkness. 13If I should wait, the underworld is my house, and in darkness I have spread out my bed. ▼ 14I have said to decay and to worms: “You are my father, my mother, and my sister.” 15Therefore, where is my expectation now, and who is it that considers my patience? 16Everything of mine will descend into the deepest underworld; do you think that, in that place at least, there will be rest for me? ▼
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