Job 6:11

Treasury of Scripture Knowledge

What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should prolong my life?

My skin is covered with worms and clods of dirt; my skin becomes rough and then breaks out afresh.

My days are so few, aren't they? So leave me alone, then, so I can smile a little

Are you a god who would make a leaf tremble or who would prosecute a dry straw?

"My spirit is crushed, my days are over; it's the grave for me!

Look, you have made my life span fit in your hand; It is nothing compared to yours. Surely every person at their best is a puff of wind. Interlude

You will sweep them away while they are asleep by morning they are like growing grass.

He has weakened my strength along the way. He has cut short my days.

For he knows how we were formed, aware that we were made from dust.

I said, "Must I leave in the prime of my life? Must I be consigned to the control of Sheol? Bitter are my years!"

So I say, "My strength is gone as is my hope in the LORD."