Stop punishing me, God! Keep your terrors away!

I am not afraid. I am going to talk because I know my own heart.

But my dispute is with God, not you; I want to argue my case with him.

Speak first, O God, and I will answer. Or let me speak, and you answer me.

How I wish I knew where to find him, and knew how to go where he is.

I want to know what he would say and how he would answer me.

I am honest; I could reason with God; he would declare me innocent once and for all.

Will no one listen to what I am saying? I swear that every word is true. Let Almighty God answer me. If the charges my opponent brings against me were written down so that I could see them,

Job, you challenged Almighty God; will you give up now, or will you answer?

I spoke foolishly, LORD. What can I answer? I will not try to say anything else.

I have already said more than I should.

Everything that happens was already determined long ago, and we all know that you cannot argue with someone who is stronger than you.

Does a clay pot dare argue with its maker, a pot that is like all the others? Does the clay ask the potter what he is doing? Does the pot complain that its maker has no skill?

But who are you, my friend, to talk back to God? A clay pot does not ask the man who made it, "Why did you make me like this?"