Job’s Song


I am reduced to dry tears,
Everything of worth is gone,
Should I curse Almighty God,
And dread the day of my birth?

For God is not like a man,
How can I contend with Him?
And what of these friends I have,
Am I already condemned?

Is there not an Arbiter,
Who knows my sorrow and pain,
A Savior who goes between,
The Holy One and my woes?

For God is not like a man,
How can I contend with Him?
And what of this Friend I have,
Whose grace I can’t comprehend?

Creative God of Wonders,
Commander of the Morning,
The Redeemer of lost men,
You are Perfect in Power.

Behind the lines

Even now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and he who testifies for me is on high.

My friends scorn me; my eye pours out tears to God, that he would argue the case of a man with God, as a son of man does with his neighbor.

For when a few years have come I shall go the way from which I shall not return. (Job 16:19-22 ESV)

For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. 

And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.

My heart faints within me!  (Job 19:25-27 ESV)


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