3748 verses about Suffering

After this Job opened his mouth, and cursed the day of his birth.

Job answered:

“Let the day perish in which I was born, the night which said, ‘There is a boy conceived.’

Let that day be darkness. Don’t let God from above seek for it, neither let the light shine on it.

Let darkness and the shadow of death claim it for their own. Let a cloud dwell on it. Let all that makes black the day terrify it.

As for that night, let thick darkness seize on it. Let it not rejoice among the days of the year. Let it not come into the number of the months.

Behold, let that night be barren. Let no joyful voice come therein.

Let them curse it who curse the day, who are ready to rouse up leviathan.

Let the stars of its twilight be dark. Let it look for light, but have none, neither let it see the eyelids of the morning,

because it didn’t shut up the doors of my mother’s womb, nor did it hide trouble from my eyes.

“Why didn’t I die from the womb? Why didn’t I give up the spirit when my mother bore me?

Why did the knees receive me? Or why the breast, that I should nurse?

For now should I have lain down and been quiet. I should have slept, then I would have been at rest,

There the wicked cease from troubling. There the weary are at rest.

There the prisoners are at ease together. They don’t hear the voice of the taskmaster.

“Why is light given to him who is in misery, life to the bitter in soul,

Who long for death, but it doesn’t come; and dig for it more than for hidden treasures,

who rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave?

Why is light given to a man whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in?

For my sighing comes before I eat. My groanings are poured out like water.

I am not at ease, neither am I quiet, neither have I rest; but trouble comes.”

But now it has come to you, and you faint. It touches you, and you are troubled.

“Remember, now, whoever perished, being innocent? Or where were the upright cut off?

The old lion perishes for lack of prey. The cubs of the lioness are scattered abroad.

fear came on me, and trembling, which made all my bones shake.

How much more, those who dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust, who are crushed before the moth!

Between morning and evening they are destroyed. They perish forever without any regarding it.

Isn’t their tent cord plucked up within them? They die, and that without wisdom.’

“Call now; is there any who will answer you? To which of the holy ones will you turn?

His children are far from safety. They are crushed in the gate. Neither is there any to deliver them,

whose harvest the hungry eats up, and take it even out of the thorns. The snare gapes for their substance.

For affliction doesn’t come out of the dust, neither does trouble spring out of the ground;

but man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward.

so that he sets up on high those who are low, those who mourn are exalted to safety.

They meet with darkness in the day time, and grope at noonday as in the night.

“Behold, happy is the man whom God corrects. Therefore do not despise the chastening of the Almighty.

For he wounds, and binds up. He injures, and his hands make whole.

Then Job answered,

“Oh that my anguish were weighed, and all my calamity laid in the balances!

For now it would be heavier than the sand of the seas, therefore have my words been rash.

For the arrows of the Almighty are within me. My spirit drinks up their poison. The terrors of God set themselves in array against me.

Can that which has no flavor be eaten without salt? Or is there any taste in the white of an egg?

My soul refuses to touch them. They are as loathsome food to me.

even that it would please God to crush me; that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off!

Be it still my consolation, yes, let me exult in pain that doesn’t spare, that I have not denied the words of the Holy One.

What is my strength, that I should wait? What is my end, that I should be patient?

Is my strength the strength of stones? Or is my flesh of brass?

Isn’t it that I have no help in me, That wisdom is driven quite from me?

“To him who is ready to faint, kindness should be shown from his friend; even to him who forsakes the fear of the Almighty.

My brothers have dealt deceitfully as a brook, as the channel of brooks that pass away;

In the dry season, they vanish. When it is hot, they are consumed out of their place.

The caravans that travel beside them turn away. They go up into the waste, and perish.

The caravans of Tema looked. The companies of Sheba waited for them.

They were distressed because they were confident. They came there, and were confounded.

For now you are nothing. You see a terror, and are afraid.

or, ‘Deliver me from the adversary’s hand?’ or, ‘Redeem me from the hand of the oppressors?’

“Teach me, and I will hold my peace. Cause me to understand wherein I have erred.

How forcible are words of uprightness! But your reproof, what does it reprove?

Do you intend to reprove words, since the speeches of one who is desperate are as wind?

“Isn’t a man forced to labor on earth? Aren’t his days like the days of a hired hand?

As a servant who earnestly desires the shadow, as a hireling who looks for his wages,

so am I made to possess months of misery, wearisome nights are appointed to me.

When I lie down, I say, ‘When shall I arise, and the night be gone?’ I toss and turn until the dawning of the day.

My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.

My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope.

Oh remember that my life is a breath. My eye shall no more see good.

The eye of him who sees me shall see me no more. Your eyes shall be on me, but I shall not be.

“Therefore I will not keep silent. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit. I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.

Am I a sea, or a sea monster, that you put a guard over me?

When I say, ‘My bed shall comfort me. My couch shall ease my complaint;’

then you scare me with dreams, and terrify me through visions:

so that my soul chooses strangling, death rather than my bones.

I loathe my life. I don’t want to live forever. Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.

that you should visit him every morning, and test him every moment?

How long will you not look away from me, nor leave me alone until I swallow down my spittle?

If I have sinned, what do I do to you, you watcher of men? Why have you set me as a mark for you, so that I am a burden to myself?

Why do you not pardon my disobedience, and take away my iniquity? For now shall I lie down in the dust. You will seek me diligently, but I shall not be.”

Then Bildad the Shuhite answered,

While it is yet in its greenness, not cut down, it withers before any other reed.

Then Job answered,

If he is pleased to contend with him, he can’t answer him one time in a thousand.

Behold, he snatches away. Who can hinder him? Who will ask him, ‘What are you doing?’

“God will not withdraw his anger. The helpers of Rahab stoop under him.

How much less shall I answer him, And choose my words to argue with him?

Though I were righteous, yet I wouldn’t answer him. I would make supplication to my judge.

If I had called, and he had answered me, yet I wouldn’t believe that he listened to my voice.

For he breaks me with a storm, and multiplies my wounds without cause.

He will not allow me to catch my breath, but fills me with bitterness.

I am blameless. I don’t respect myself. I despise my life.

“It is all the same. Therefore I say he destroys the blameless and the wicked.

If the scourge kills suddenly, he will mock at the trial of the innocent.

The earth is given into the hand of the wicked. He covers the faces of its judges. If not he, then who is it?

“Now my days are swifter than a runner. They flee away, they see no good.

If I say, ‘I will forget my complaint, I will put off my sad face, and cheer up;’

I am afraid of all my sorrows, I know that you will not hold me innocent.

I shall be condemned. Why then do I labor in vain?

yet you will plunge me in the ditch. My own clothes shall abhor me.

Let him take his rod away from me. Let his terror not make me afraid;

“My soul is weary of my life. I will give free course to my complaint. I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.

I will tell God, ‘Do not condemn me. Show me why you contend with me.