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āāJob⬠ā13:1ā-ā¬28⬠āMSGā¬ā¬
[1-5] āYes, Iāve seen all this with my own eyes, heard and understood it with my very own ears. Everything you know, I know, so Iām not taking a backseat to any of you. Iām taking my case straight to God Almighty; Iāve had it with youāIām going directly to God. You graffiti my life with lies. Youāre a bunch of pompous quacks! I wish youād shut your mouthsā silence is your only claim to wisdom. [6-12] āListen now while I make my case, consider my side of things for a change. Or are you going to keep on lying āto do God a serviceā? to make up stories āto get him off the hookā? Why do you always take his side? Do you think he needs a lawyer to defend himself? How would you fare if you were in the witness stand? Your lies might convince a juryābut would they convince God? Heād reprimand you on the spot if he detected a bias in your witness. Doesnāt his splendor put you in awe? Arenāt you afraid to speak cheap lies before him? Your wise sayings are knickknack wisdom, good for nothing but gathering dust. [13-19] āSo hold your tongue while I have my say, then Iāll take whatever I have coming to me. Why do I go out on a limb like this and take my life in my hands? Because even if he killed me, Iād keep on hoping. Iād defend my innocence to the very end. Just wait, this is going to work out for the bestāmy salvation! If I were guilt-stricken do you think Iād be doing thisā laying myself on the line before God? Youād better pay attention to what Iām telling you, listen carefully with both ears. Now that Iāve laid out my defense, Iām sure that Iāll be acquitted. Can anyone prove charges against me? Iāve said my piece. I rest my case. [20-27] āPlease, God, I have two requests; grant them so Iāll know I count with you: First, lay off the afflictions; the terror is too much for me. Second, address me directly so I can answer you, or let me speak and then you answer me. How many sins have been charged against me? Show me the listāhow bad is it? Why do you stay hidden and silent? Why treat me like Iām your enemy? Why kick me around like an old tin can? Why beat a dead horse? You compile a long list of mean things about me, even hold me accountable for the sins of my youth. You hobble me so I canāt move about. You watch every move I make, and brand me as a dangerous character. [28] āLike something rotten, human life fast decomposes, like a moth-eaten shirt or a mildewed blouse.ā

