Job 13

1Lo, mine eye hath seen all this, Mine ear hath heard and understood it.

2What ye know, do I know also; I am not inferior unto you.

3Notwithstanding I would speak to the Almighty, And I desire to reason with God.

4But ye are plasterers of lies, Ye are all physicians of no value.

5Oh that ye would altogether hold your peace! And it would be your wisdom.

6Hear now my reasoning, And hearken to the pleadings of my lips.

7Will ye speak unrighteously for God, And talk deceitfully for Him?

8Will ye show Him favour? Will ye contend for God?

9Would it be good that He should search you out? Or as one mocketh a man, will ye mock Him?

10He will surely reprove you, If ye do secretly show favour.

11Shall not His majesty terrify you, And His dread fall upon you?

12Your memorials shall be like unto ashes, Your eminences to eminences of clay.

13Hold your peace, let me alone, that I may speak, And let come on me what will.

14Wherefore? I will take my flesh in my teeth, And put my life in my hand.

15Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him; But I will argue my ways before Him.

16This also shall be my salvation, That a hypocrite cannot come before Him.

17Hear diligently my speech, And let my declaration be in your ears.

18Behold now, I have ordered my cause; I know that I shall be justified.

19Who is he that will contend with me? For then would I hold my peace and die.

20Only do not two things unto me, Then will I not hide myself from Thee:

21Withdraw Thy hand far from me; And let not Thy terror make me afraid.

22Then call Thou, and I will answer; Or let me speak, and answer Thou me.

23How many are mine iniquities and sins? Make me to know my transgression and my sin.

24Wherefore hidest Thou Thy face, And holdest me for Thine enemy?

25Wilt Thou harass a driven leaf? And wilt Thou pursue the dry stubble?

26That Thou shouldest write bitter things against me, And make me to inherit the iniquities of my youth.

27Thou puttest my feet also in the stocks, And lookest narrowly unto all my paths; Thou drawest Thee a line about the soles of my feet;

28Though I am like a wine-skin that consumeth, Like a garment that is moth-eaten.