Henry: Welcome To Immerse: The Daily Bible Reading Experience.
Day three hundred and eighteen.
Then pha.
The Timon Night replied to Job, will you be patient?
And let me say a word for who could keep from speaking out.
In the past, you have encouraged many people.
You have strengthened those who were weak, your words have
supported those who were falling.
You encourage those with shaky knees.
But now when trouble strikes, You lose heart.
You are terrified when it touches you.
Doesn't your reverence for God give you confidence?
Doesn't your life of integrity give you hope?
Stop and think.
Do the innocent die.
When have the upright been destroyed?
My experience shows that those who plant trouble and cultivate
evil will harvest the same.
A breath from God destroys them.
They vanish in a blast of his anger.
The lion roars and the wildcat snarls, but the teeth of strong lions will be broken.
The fierce lion will starve for lack of prey, and the cubs of
the lioness will be scattered.
This truth was given to me in secret, as though whispered in my ear.
It came to me in a disturbing vision.
At night.
When people are in a deep sleep, fear gripped me and my bones trembled.
A spirit swept past my face and my hair stood on end.
The spirit stopped, but I couldn't see it shape.
There was a form before my eyes in the silence.
I heard a voice say, can immortal be innocent before God?
Can anyone be pure before the creator?
If God does not trust his own angels and has charged his
messengers with foolishness?
How much less will he trust people made of clay?
They are made of dust crushed as easily as a moth.
They are alive in the morning, but dead by evening, gone forever without a trace.
Their tent cords are pulled and the tent collapses and they die in ignorance.
Cry for help, but will anyone answer you, which of the angels will help you?
Surely resentment destroys the fool, and jealousy kills the simple.
I have seen that fools may be successful for the moment, but
then comes sudden disaster.
Their children are abandoned far from help.
They are crushed in court with no one to defend them.
The hungry devour their harvest even when it is guarded by brambles, the
thirsty pant after their wealth.
But evil does not spring from the soil, and trouble does
not sprout from the earth.
People are born for trouble as readily as sparks fly up from a fire.
If I were you, I would go to God and present my case to him.
He does great things, too marvelous to understand.
He performs countless miracles.
He gives rain for the earth and water for the fields.
He gives prosperity to the poor.
And protects those who suffer.
He frustrates the plans of schemers, so the work of their hands will not succeed.
He traps the wise in their own cleverness, so their cunning schemes are thwarted.
They find it is dark in the daytime and they grope at noon as if it were night.
He rescues the poor from the cutting words of the strong and rescues them
from the clutches of the powerful, and so at last, the poor have hope.
And the snapping jaws of the wicked are shut.
But consider the joy of those corrected by God.
Do not despise the discipline of the Almighty when you sin.
For though he wounds.
He also bandages.
He strikes, but his hands also heal from six disasters.
He will rescue you even in the seventh.
He will keep you from evil.
He will save you from death in time of famine.
From the power of the sword, in time of war, you'll be safe
from slander and have no fear.
When destruction comes, you will laugh at destruction and famine.
Wild animals will not terrify you.
You will be at peace with the stones of the field and its wild.
Animals will be at peace with you.
You will know that your home is safe.
When you survey your possessions, nothing will be missing.
You will have many children.
Your descendants will be as plentiful as grass.
You will go to the grave at a ripe old age, like a sheaf of grain
harvested at the proper time.
We have studied life and found all this to be true.
Listen to my counsel and apply it to yourself.
Then job spoke again.
If my misery could be weighed.
My troubles be put on the scales.
They would outweigh all the sands of the sea.
That is why I spoke Impulsively for the Almighty has struck
me down with his arrows.
Their poison infects my spirit.
God's terrors are lined up against me, don't I?
Have a right to complain.
Don't wild donkeys bra when they find no grass and oxen
bellow when they have new food.
Don't people complain about unsalted food?
Does anyone want the tasteless white of an egg?
My appetite disappears when I look at it.
I gag at the thought of eating it.
Oh, that I might have my request, that God would grant my desire.
I wish he would crush me.
I wish he would reach out his hand and kill me.
At least I can take comfort in this despite the pain.
I have not denied the words of the holy one, but I don't
have the strength to endure.
I have nothing to live for.
Do I have the strength of a stone?
Is my body made of bronze?
No, I am utterly helpless without any chance of success.
One should be kind to a fainting friend.
But you accuse me without any fear of the almighty.
My brothers.
You have proved as unreliable as a seasonal brook that overflows
its banks in the spring when it is swollen with ice and melting snow.
But when the hot weather arrives, the water disappears.
The brook vanishes in the heat, the caravans turn aside to be refreshed, but
there is nothing to drink so they die.
The caravans from Tema.
Search for this water.
The travelers from Shiba hope to find it.
They count on it, but are disappointed when they arrive, their hopes are dashed.
You too have given no help.
You have seen my calamity and you are afraid.
But why have I ever asked you for a gift?
Have I begged for anything of yours?
For myself?
I.
Have I asked you to rescue me from my enemies or to
save me from ruthless people?
Teach me and I will keep quiet.
Show me what I have done Wrong.
Honest words can be painful, but what do your criticisms amount to, do you
think your words are convincing when you disregard my cry of desperation?
You would even send an orphan into slavery or sell a friend.
Look at me.
Would I lie to your face?
Stop assuming my guilt for I have done no wrong.
Do you think I am lying?
Don't I know the difference between right and wrong is
not all human life a struggle?
Our lives are like that of a hired hand, like a worker who longs for the
shade like a servant waiting to be paid.
I too have been assigned months of futility.
Long and weary nights of misery lying in bed.
I think.
When will it be morning?
But the night drags on and I toss, still gone.
My body is covered with maggots and scabs.
My skin breaks open oozing with pus.
My days fly faster than a weaver shuttle.
They end without hope.
Oh God, remember that.
My life is but a breath.
And I will never again feel happiness.
You see me now, but not for long.
You will look for me, but I will be gone just as a cloud dissipates and vanishes.
Those who die will not come back.
They are gone forever from their home, never to be seen again.
I cannot keep from speaking.
I must express my anguish, my bit.
Her soul must complain.
Am I a sea monster or a dragon that you must place me under guard?
I think my bed will comfort me and sleep will ease my misery.
But then you shatter me with dreams and terrify me with visions.
I would rather be strangled, rather die than suffer like this.
I hate my life and don't want to go on living who leave me
alone for my few remaining days.
What are people that you should make so much of us that you should
think of us so often for you?
Examine us every morning and test us every moment.
Why won't you leave me alone at least long enough for me to swallow if I have sinned?
What have I done to you?
A watcher of all humanity.
Why make me your target?
Am I a burden to you?
Why not just forgive my sin and take away my guilt?
For soon I will lie down in the dust and die.
When you look for me.
I will be gone.
Then build, add the shoe height, replied to job.
How long will you go on like this?
You sound like a blustering wind.
Does God twist justice?
Does the almighty twist what is right?
Your children must have sinned against him, so their
punishment was well-deserved.
But if you pray to God and seek the favor of the Almighty, and if you are pure
and live with integrity, he will surely rise up and restore your happy home.
And though you started with little, you will end with much.
Just ask the previous generation, pay attention to the experience
of our ancestors for we were born, but yesterday and know nothing.
Our days on earth are as fleeting as a shadow, but those who
came before us will teach you.
They will teach you the wisdom of old can papyrus reads, grow tall without a marsh.
Can marsh grass flourish without water?
While they are still flowering, not ready to be cut, they begin
to wither more quickly than grass.
The same happens to all who forget God, the hopes of the godless evaporate.
Their confidence hangs by a thread.
They are leaning on a spider's web.
They clinging to their home for security, but it won't last.
They try to hold it tight, but it will not endure.
The godless seem like a lush plant growing in the sunshine.
Its branches spreading across the garden.
Its roots grow down through a pile of stones.
It takes hold on a bed of rocks, but when it is uprooted, it's
as though it never existed.
That's the end of its life and others spring up from the earth to replace it.
But look, God will not reject a person of integrity.
Nor will he lend a hand to the wicked.
He will once again fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.
Those who hate you will be clothed with shame and the home
of the wicked will be destroyed.
Then Job spoke again.
Yes, I know all this is true in principle, but how can a person be
declared innocent in God's sight?
If someone wanted to take God to court, would it be possible to answer
him even once in a thousand times?
For God is so wise and so mighty, who has ever challenged him successfully
without warning, he moves the mountains, overturning them in his anger.
He shakes the earth from its place and its foundations tremble.
If he commands it, the sun won't rise and the stars won't shine.
He alone has spread out the heavens and marches on the waves of the sea.
He made all the stars, the bear and Orion, the ple and the
constellations of the southern sky.
He does great things to marvelous to understand.
He performs countless miracles, yet when he comes near, I
cannot see him when he moves by.
I do not see him go.
If he snatches someone in death who can stop him, who dares
to ask, what are you doing?
And God does not restrain his anger.
Even the monsters, the sea are crushed beneath his feet.
So who am I that I should try to answer God or even reason with him?
Even if I were right, I would have no defense.
I could only plead for mercy.
And even if I summoned him and he responded.
I'm not sure he would listen to me for.
He attacks me with a storm and repeatedly wounds me without cause.
He will not let me catch my breath, but fills me instead with bitter sorrows.
If it's a question of strength, he's the strong one.
If it's a matter of justice, who dares to summon him to court, though I am innocent,
my own mouth would pronounce me guilty.
Though I am blameless, it would prove me wicked.
I am innocent, but it makes no difference to me.
I despise my life.
Innocent or wicked.
It is all the same to God.
That's why I say he destroys both the blameless and the wicked.
When a plague sweeps through, he laughs at the death of the innocent.
The whole earth is in the hands of the wicked, and God
blinds the eyes of the judges.
If he's not the one who does it, who is?
My life passes more swiftly than a runner.
It flees away without a glimpse of happiness.
It disappears like a swift papyrus boat, like an eagle swooping down on its prey.
If I decided to forget my complaints to put away my sad face and be cheerful,
I would still dread all the pain.
For, I know you will not find me innocent.
Oh God.
Whatever happens, I will be found guilty.
So what's the use of trying?
Even if I were to wash myself with soap and clean my hands with lie, you
would plunge me into a muddy ditch and my own filthy clothing would hate me.
God is not immortal like me, so I cannot argue with him or take him to trial.
If only there were a mediator between us, someone who could bring us
together, the mediator could make God stop beating me, and I would no longer
live in terror of his punishment.
Then I could speak to him without fear, but I cannot do that in my own strength.
I'm disgusted with my life.
Let me complain freely.
My bitter soul must complain.
I.
I will say to God, don't simply condemn me.
Tell me the charge you are bringing against me.
What do you gain by oppressing me?
Why do you reject me?
The work of your own hands while smiling on the schemes of the wicked?
Are your eyes like those of a human?
Do you see things only as people see them is your lifetime only as long as hours?
Is your life so short that you must quickly probe for my
guilt and search for my sin.
Although you know I am not guilty, no one can rescue me from your hands.
You formed me with your hands.
You made me you.
Now you completely destroy me.
Remember that you made me from dust.
Will you turn me back to dust so soon?
You guided my conception and formed me in the womb.
You clothed me with skin and flesh, and you knit my bones and sinews together.
You gave me life and showed me your unfailing love.
My life was preserved by your care, yet your real motive, your true intent
was to watch me and if I sinned, you would not forgive my guilt.
If I am guilty, too bad for me, and even if I'm innocent, I can't hold my head high
because I'm filled with shame and misery.
And if I hold my head high, you hunt me like a lion and display your awesome
power against me again and again.
You witness against me.
You pour out your growing anger on me and bring fresh armies against me.
Why then did you deliver me from my mother's womb?
Why didn't you let me die at birth?
It would be as though I had never existed.
Going directly from the womb to the grave, I have only a few days left,
so leave me alone that I may have a moment of comfort before I leave.
Never to return.
For the land of darkness and utter gloom, it is a land as dark as midnight.
A land of gloom and confusion where even the light is as dark as midnight.
This concludes today's Immer reading experience.
Thank you for joining us.