767 verses about Weakness

Behold, you have instructed many, you have strengthened the weak hands.

Your words have supported him who was falling, You have made firm the feeble knees.

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

The roaring of the lion, and the voice of the fierce lion, the teeth of the young lions, are broken.

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!

But he saves from the sword of their mouth, even the needy from the hand of the mighty.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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?

(For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days on earth are a shadow.)

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

then I would speak, and not fear him, for I am not so in myself.

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

He pours contempt on princes, and loosens the belt of the strong.

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

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

Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? Not one.

What is man, that he should be clean? What is he who is born of a woman, that he should be righteous?

But now, God, you have surely worn me out. You have made desolate all my company.

You have shriveled me up. This is a witness against me. My leanness rises up against me. It testifies to my face.

He breaks me with breach on breach. He runs on me like a giant.

My eye also is dim by reason of sorrow. All my members are as a shadow.

The steps of his strength shall be shortened. His own counsel shall cast him down.

His strength shall be famished. Calamity shall be ready at his side.

If it is true that I have erred, my error remains with myself.

He has stripped me of my glory, and taken the crown from my head.

He has broken me down on every side, and I am gone. My hope he has plucked up like a tree.

My bones stick to my skin and to my flesh. I have escaped by the skin of my teeth.

How much less man, who is a worm, the son of man, who is a worm!”

“How have you helped him who is without power! How have you saved the arm that has no strength!

I was eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame.

Of what use is the strength of their hands to me, men in whom ripe age has perished?

Among the bushes they bray; and under the nettles they are gathered together.

For he has untied his cord, and afflicted me; and they have thrown off restraint before me.

As through a wide breach they come, in the middle of the ruin they roll themselves in.

“Now my soul is poured out within me. Days of affliction have taken hold on me.

He has cast me into the mire. I have become like dust and ashes.

His flesh is so consumed away, that it can’t be seen. His bones that were not seen stick out.

Can you hold the wild ox in the furrow with his harness? Or will he till the valleys after you?

“Behold, I am of small account. What shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth.

Then I will also admit to you that your own right hand can save you.

Will he make many petitions to you, or will he speak soft words to you?

Lay your hand on him. Remember the battle, and do so no more.

Behold, the hope of him is in vain. Won’t one be cast down even at the sight of him?

Have mercy on me, Yahweh, for I am faint. Yahweh, heal me, for my bones are troubled.

I am weary with my groaning. Every night I flood my bed. I drench my couch with my tears.

My eye wastes away because of grief. It grows old because of all my adversaries.

From the lips of babes and infants you have established strength, because of your adversaries, that you might silence the enemy and the avenger.

For the needy shall not always be forgotten, nor the hope of the poor perish forever.

The helpless are crushed. They collapse. They fall under his strength.

Arise, Yahweh! God, lift up your hand! Don’t forget the helpless.

“Because of the oppression of the weak and because of the groaning of the needy, I will now arise,” says Yahweh; “I will set him in safety from those who malign him.”

Lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed against him”; Lest my adversaries rejoice when I fall.

He delivered me from my strong enemy, from those who hated me; for they were too mighty for me.

They came on me in the day of my calamity, but Yahweh was my support.

Many bulls have surrounded me. Strong bulls of Bashan have encircled me.

I am poured out like water. All my bones are out of joint. My heart is like wax; it is melted within me.

My strength is dried up like a potsherd. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You have brought me into the dust of death.

Hear, Yahweh, and have mercy on me. Yahweh, be my helper.”

Have mercy on me, Yahweh, for I am in distress. My eye, my soul, and my body waste away with grief.

For my life is spent with sorrow, my years with sighing. My strength fails because of my iniquity. My bones are wasted away.

When I kept silence, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.

For day and night your hand was heavy on me. My strength was sapped in the heat of summer. Selah.

There is no king saved by the multitude of an army. A mighty man is not delivered by great strength.

A horse is a vain thing for safety, neither does he deliver any by his great power.

All my bones shall say, “Yahweh, who is like you, who delivers the poor from him who is too strong for him; yes, the poor and the needy from him who robs him?”

For the arms of the wicked shall be broken, but Yahweh upholds the righteous.

For my iniquities have gone over my head. As a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me.

My wounds are loathsome and corrupt, because of my foolishness.

I am pained and bowed down greatly. I go mourning all day long.

For my waist is filled with burning. There is no soundness in my flesh.

I am faint and severely bruised. I have groaned by reason of the anguish of my heart.

My heart throbs. My strength fails me. As for the light of my eyes, it has also left me.

But I, as a deaf man, don’t hear. I am as a mute man who doesn’t open his mouth.

Yes, I am as a man who doesn’t hear, in whose mouth are no reproofs.

For I said, “Don’t let them gloat over me, or exalt themselves over me when my foot slips.”

For I am ready to fall. My pain is continually before me.

“Yahweh, show me my end, what is the measure of my days. Let me know how frail I am.

Behold, you have made my days hand widths. My lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely every man stands as a breath.” Selah.

Remove your scourge away from me. I am overcome by the blow of your hand.

Oh spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go away, and exist no more.”

For innumerable evils have surrounded me. My iniquities have overtaken me, so that I am not able to look up. They are more than the hairs of my head. My heart has failed me.

But I am poor and needy. May the Lord think about me. You are my help and my deliverer. Don’t delay, my God.

Yahweh will sustain him on his sickbed, and restore him from his bed of illness.

For they didn’t get the land in possession by their own sword, neither did their own arm save them; but your right hand, and your arm, and the light of your face, because you were favorable to them.

All day long my dishonor is before me, and shame covers my face,

For our soul is bowed down to the dust. Our body clings to the earth.

You have shown your people hard things. You have made us drink the wine that makes us stagger.

Haven’t you, God, rejected us? You don’t go out with our armies, God.

Give us help against the adversary, for the help of man is vain.