Job 6:11

Whereas you don’t know what your life will be like tomorrow. For what is your life? For you are a vapor that appears for a little time, and then vanishes away.

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

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

The womb will forget him. The worm will feed sweetly on him. He will be no more remembered. Unrighteousness will be broken as a tree.

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

Your riches are corrupted and your garments are moth-eaten.

Jacob said to Pharaoh, “The years of my pilgrimage are one hundred thirty years. The days of the years of my life have been few and evil. They have not attained to the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.”

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

“For there is hope for a tree if it is cut down, that it will sprout again, that the tender branch of it will not cease.

I laid myself down and slept. I awakened; for Yahweh sustains me.

In peace I will both lay myself down and sleep, for you, Yahweh alone, make me live in safety.

Surely men of low degree are just a breath, and men of high degree are a lie. In the balances they will go up. They are together lighter than a breath.

Remember how short my time is, for what vanity you have created all the children of men!

For a thousand years in your sight are just like yesterday when it is past, like a watch in the night.

Behold, the Lord Yahweh will help me! Who is he who will condemn me? Behold, they will all grow old like a garment. The moths will eat them up.

Yes, we ourselves have had the sentence of death within ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead,

“ ‘As for those of you who are left, I will send a faintness into their hearts in the lands of their enemies. The sound of a driven leaf will put them to flight; and they shall flee, as one flees from the sword. They will fall when no one pursues.

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

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

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

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

He will not depart out of darkness. The flame will dry up his branches. He will go away by the breath of God’s mouth.

“My spirit is consumed. My days are extinct, and the grave is ready for me.

My days are past. My plans are broken off, as are the thoughts of my heart.

How often is it that they are as stubble before the wind, as chaff that the storm carries away?

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

When you rebuke and correct man for iniquity, you consume his wealth like a moth. Surely every man is but a breath.”

But man, despite his riches, doesn’t endure. He is like the animals that perish.

My God, make them like tumbleweed, like chaff before the wind.

He weakened my strength along the course. He shortened my days.

I said, “My God, don’t take me away in the middle of my days. Your years are throughout all generations.

Man is like a breath. His days are like a shadow that passes away.

His spirit departs, and he returns to the earth. In that very day, his thoughts perish.

in the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those who look out of the windows are darkened,

Then he said to me, “Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. Behold, they say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost. We are completely cut off.’

I also tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my assembly, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.

For, “All flesh is like grass, and all of man’s glory like the flower in the grass. The grass withers, and its flower falls;

Moses spoke so to the children of Israel, but they didn’t listen to Moses for anguish of spirit, and for cruel bondage.

Let her not, I pray, be as one dead, of whom the flesh is half consumed when he comes out of his mother’s womb.”

They took it on that day, and struck it with the edge of the sword. He utterly destroyed all the souls who were in it that day, according to all that he had done to Lachish.

When she pressed him daily with her words and urged him, his soul was troubled to death.

Don’t consider your servant a wicked woman; for I have been speaking out of the abundance of my complaint and my provocation.”

While he was still talking with them, behold, the messenger came down to him. Then he said, “Behold, this evil is from Yahweh. Why should I wait for Yahweh any longer?”

So Satan went out from the presence of Yahweh, and struck Job with painful sores from the sole of his foot to his head.

Isn’t your piety your confidence? Isn’t the integrity of your ways your hope?

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

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

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

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

Aren’t my days few? Stop! Leave me alone, that I may find a little comfort,

You will be secure, because there is hope. Yes, you will search, and will take your rest in safety.

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.

The waters wear the stones. The torrents of it wash away the dust of the earth. So you destroy the hope of man.

He doesn’t believe that he will return out of darkness. He is waited for by the sword.

where then is my hope? as for my hope, who will see it?

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

My breath is offensive to my wife. I am loathsome to the children of my own mother.

be afraid of the sword, for wrath brings the punishments of the sword, that you may know there is a judgment.”

In the fullness of his sufficiency, distress will overtake him. The hand of everyone who is in misery will come on him.

As for me, is my complaint to man? Why shouldn’t I be impatient?

If his children are multiplied, it is for the sword. His offspring will not be satisfied with bread.

After this Job lived one hundred forty years, and saw his sons, and his sons’ sons, to four generations.

Why are you in despair, my soul? Why are you disturbed within me? Hope in God! For I shall still praise him, the saving help of my countenance, and my God.

But as for me, my feet were almost gone. My steps had nearly slipped.

You have shortened the days of his youth. You have covered him with shame.

For all our days have passed away in your wrath. We bring our years to an end as a sigh.

Hear my prayer, Yahweh! Let my cry come to you.

My days are like a long shadow. I have withered like grass.

But it shall not be well with the wicked, neither shall he lengthen days like a shadow, because he doesn’t fear God.

Live joyfully with the wife whom you love all the days of your life of vanity, which he has given you under the sun, all your days of vanity, for that is your portion in life, and in your labor in which you labor under the sun.

Therefore remove sorrow from your heart, and put away evil from your flesh; for youth and the dawn of life are vanity.

The nations will rush like the rushing of many waters: but he will rebuke them, and they will flee far off, and will be chased like the chaff of the mountains before the wind, and like the whirling dust before the storm.

I said, “In the middle of my life I go into the gates of Sheol. I am deprived of the residue of my years.”

My dwelling is removed, and is carried away from me like a shepherd’s tent. I have rolled up my life like a weaver. He will cut me off from the loom. From day even to night you will make an end of me.

For I will not contend forever, neither will I always be angry; for the spirit would faint before me, and the souls whom I have made.

I said, “My strength has perished, along with my expectation from Yahweh.”

Therefore I am to Ephraim like a moth, and to the house of Judah like rottenness.

Then he said to them, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here, and watch with me.”

He threw down the pieces of silver in the sanctuary, and departed. He went away and hanged himself.