3748 verses about Suffering

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.

Is it good to you that you should oppress, that you should despise the work of your hands, and smile on the counsel of the wicked?

that you inquire after my iniquity, and search after my sin?

Although you know that I am not wicked, there is no one who can deliver out of your hand.

“‘Your hands have framed me and fashioned me altogether, yet you destroy me.

Yet you hid these things in your heart. I know that this is with you:

If I am wicked, woe to me. If I am righteous, I still shall not lift up my head, being filled with disgrace, and conscious of my affliction.

If my head is held high, you hunt me like a lion. Again you show yourself powerful to me.

You renew your witnesses against me, and increase your indignation on me. Changes and warfare are with me.

“‘Why, then, have you brought me out of the womb? I wish I had given up the spirit, and no eye had seen me.

I should have been as though I had not been. I should have been carried from the womb to the grave.

Aren’t my days few? Cease then. Leave me alone, that I may find a little comfort,

before I go where I shall not return from, to the land of darkness and of the shadow of death;

the land dark as midnight, of the shadow of death, without any order, where the light is as midnight.’”

Then Zophar, the Naamathite, answered,

for you shall forget your misery. You shall remember it like waters that have passed away.

But the eyes of the wicked shall fail. They shall have no way to flee. Their hope shall be the giving up of the spirit.”

I am like one who is a joke to his neighbor, I, who called on God, and he answered. The just, the blameless man is a joke.

In the thought of him who is at ease there is contempt for misfortune. It is ready for them whose foot slips.

Behold, he breaks down, and it can’t be built again. He imprisons a man, and there can be no release.

He takes away understanding from the chiefs of the people of the earth, and causes them to wander in a wilderness where there is no way.

They grope in the dark without light. He makes them stagger like a drunken man.

But you are forgers of lies. You are all physicians of no value.

Your memorable sayings are proverbs of ashes, Your defenses are defenses of clay.

“Be silent, leave me alone, that I may speak. Let come on me what will.

Why should I take my flesh in my teeth, and put my life in my hand?

Behold, he will kill me. I have no hope. Nevertheless, I will maintain my ways before him.

Who is he who will contend with me? For then would I hold my peace and give up the spirit.

“Only don’t do two things to me; then I will not hide myself from your face:

withdraw your hand far from me; and don’t let your terror make me afraid.

Why hide you your face, and hold me for your enemy?

Will you harass a driven leaf? Will you pursue the dry stubble?

For you write bitter things against me, and make me inherit the iniquities of my youth:

You also put my feet in the stocks, and mark all my paths. You set a bound to the soles of my feet,

though I am decaying like a rotten thing, like a garment that is moth-eaten.

“Man, who is born of a woman, is of few days, and full of trouble.

He grows up like a flower, and is cut down. He also flees like a shadow, and doesn’t continue.

Do you open your eyes on such a one, and bring me into judgment with you?

Seeing his days are determined, the number of his months is with you, and you have appointed his bounds that he can’t pass;

Look away from him, that he may rest, until he shall accomplish, as a hireling, his day.

As the waters fail from the sea, and the river wastes and dries up,

“Oh that you would hide me in Sheol, that you would keep me secret, until your wrath is past, that you would appoint me a set time, and remember me!

If a man dies, shall he live again? All the days of my warfare would I wait, until my release should come.

But now you count my steps. Don’t you watch over my sin?