Job.
Chapter 9.
Job replied, 
“Yes, I know all that! But how can anyone be right before God? 
If you wanted to argue with God, God could ask a thousand questions that no one could answer. 
God is so wise and so powerful that no one could challenge him and win. 
God moves the mountains suddenly; he overturns them in his anger. 
He shakes the earth, making its foundations quake. 
He is the one who can command the sun not to rise and the stars not to shine. 
He alone is the one who stretches out the heavens and walks on the waves of the sea. 
He made the constellations of the Bear, Orion, the Pleiades, and the stars of the southern sky. 
He is the one who does incredible things that are beyond our understanding, marvelous things that are uncountable. 
But when he passes by me, I don't see him; when he moves on, he is invisible to me. 
If he takes away, who can prevent him? Who is going to ask him, ‘What are you doing?’ 
God does not restrain his anger; he crushes Rahab's helpers underfoot. 
So how much less could I answer God, or choose my words to argue with him! 
Even though I'm right, I can't answer him. I must plead for mercy from my judge. 
Even if I called him to come and he responded, I don't believe he would listen to me. 
He pounds me with the winds of a storm; he wounds me time and again, without giving a reason. 
He doesn't give me a chance even to catch my breath; instead he fills my life with bitter suffering. 
If it's a question of strength, then God is the strongest. If it's a question of justice, then who will set a time for my case? 
Even though I am right, my own mouth would condemn me; even though I am innocent, he would prove me wrong. 
I am innocent! I don't care what happens to me. I hate my life! 
That's why I say, ‘It makes no difference to God. He destroys both the innocent and the wicked.’ 
When disaster strikes suddenly he mocks the despair of the innocent. 
The earth has been handed over to the wicked; he blinds the eyes of the judges—if it's not him who does this, then who is it? 
The days of my life race by like a runner, rushing past without me seeing any happiness. 
They pass by like fast sailing ships, like an eagle swooping down on its prey. 
If I said to myself, ‘I will forget my complaints; I will stop crying and be happy,’ 
I would still be terrified at all my suffering because you, God, will not say I'm innocent. 
Since I'm condemned, what's the point in arguing? 
Even if I wash myself with pure mountain water and clean my hands with soap, 
you would toss me into a slime pit so that even my own clothes would hate me! 
For God is not a mortal being like me, I can't defend myself or take him to court. 
If only there was an arbitrator who could bring us both together! 
I wish God would stop beating me with his rod and terrifying me! 
Then I could speak up without being afraid—but since I am, I can't!” 
