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Job 30 New Life Version (NLV)

Job Keeps On Talking

30 “But now those who are younger than I make fun of me. I thought so little of their fathers that I did not want them with my sheep dogs. Yes, what good could I get from the strength of their hands? Their strength was gone. Their bodies are thin and in need of food. At night they bite the dry ground in the waste land. They pick plants that taste of salt among the bushes. And they eat the root of the broom bush. They are driven away from people. Men call out against them as if they were robbers. So they live in valleys made by floods, in caves of the earth and of the rocks. Among the bushes they cry out. They gather together under the thistles. They are fools and they have no name. They have been driven out of the land.

“Now they make fun of me in song. They laugh at me. 10 They hate me and keep away from me, but they spit in my face. 11 Because God has made the string of my bow loose and has troubled me, they have thrown off their respect for me. 12 Their bad group comes to my right. They push me away and trip my feet, and make ways to destroy me. 13 They break up my path. They make trouble for me, and no one stops them. 14 They come as if through a wide hole in the wall, and roll on with much noise. 15 Fears come upon me. They go after my honor like the wind. And my well-being has passed away like a cloud.

16 “Now my soul is poured out within me. Days of trouble have taken hold of me. 17 Night cuts into my bones with pain. The pain keeps on and takes no rest. 18 My clothing is torn by a strong power. It pulls against me like the top of my coat. 19 God has thrown me into the mud, and I have become like dust and ashes. 20 I cry out to You for help, but You do not answer me. I stand up, and You turn away from me. 21 You work against me. With the power of Your hand you make it hard for me. 22 You lift me up to the wind and make it carry me. You throw me around in the storm. 23 For I know that You will bring me to death, to the place for all the living.

24 “Yet does not one in a destroyed place put out his hand, and in his trouble cry out for help? 25 Have I not cried for the one whose life is hard? Was not my soul filled with sorrow for the poor? 26 When I expected good, then trouble came. When I waited for light, darkness came. 27 My heart is troubled and does not rest. Days of trouble are before me. 28 I go about full of sorrow without comfort. I stand up where the people are gathered and cry out for help. 29 I have become a brother to wild dogs, and a friend of ostriches. 30 My skin becomes black and falls from me. My bones burn because I am sick. 31 So my harp is turned to sorrow, and my horn to the sound of crying.

New Life Version (NLV)

Copyright © 1969, 2003 by Barbour Publishing, Inc.


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