Job 14

If We Die, Will We Live Again?

1-17 "We're all adrift in the same boat: too few days, too many troubles. We spring up like wildflowers in the desert and then wilt, transient as the shadow of a cloud. Do you occupy your time with such fragile wisps? Why even bother hauling me into court? There's nothing much to us to start with; how do you expect us to amount to anything? Mortals have a limited life span. You've already decided how long we'll live— you set the boundary and no one can cross it. So why not give us a break? Ease up! Even ditchdiggers get occasional days off. For a tree there is always hope. Chop it down and it still has a chance— its roots can put out fresh sprouts. Even if its roots are old and gnarled, its stump long dormant, At the first whiff of water it comes to life, buds and grows like a sapling. But men and women? They die and stay dead. They breathe their last, and that's it. Like lakes and rivers that have dried up, parched reminders of what once was, So mortals lie down and never get up, never wake up again—never. Why don't you just bury me alive, get me out of the way until your anger cools? But don't leave me there! Set a date when you'll see me again. If we humans die, will we live again? That's my question. All through these difficult days I keep hoping, waiting for the final change—for resurrection! Homesick with longing for the creature you made, you'll call—and I'll answer! You'll watch over every step I take, but you won't keep track of my missteps. My sins will be stuffed in a sack and thrown into the sea—sunk in deep ocean.
18-22 "Meanwhile, mountains wear down and boulders break up, Stones wear smooth and soil erodes, as you relentlessly grind down our hope. You're too much for us. As always, you get the last word. We don't like it and our faces show it, but you send us off anyway. If our children do well for themselves, we never know it; if they do badly, we're spared the hurt. Body and soul, that's it for us— a lifetime of pain, a lifetime of sorrow."

Job 14

1 Man, that is born of a woman, Is of few days, and full of trouble.

2 He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: He fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.

3 And dost thou open thine eyes upon such a one, And bringest me into judgment with thee?

4 Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? not one.

5 Seeing his days are determined, The number of his months is with thee, And thou hast appointed his bounds that he cannot pass;

6 Look away from him, that he may rest, Till he shall accomplish, as a hireling, his day.

7 For there is hope of a tree, If it be cut down, that it will sprout again, And that the tender branch thereof will not cease.

8 Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, And the stock thereof die in the ground;

9 Yet through the scent of water it will bud, And put forth boughs like a plant.

10 But man dieth, and is laid low: Yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?

11  As the waters fail from the sea, And the river wasteth and drieth up;

12 So man lieth down and riseth not: Till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake, Nor be roused out of their sleep.

13 Oh that thou wouldest hide me in Sheol, That thou wouldest keep me secret, until thy wrath be past, That thou wouldest appoint me a set time, and remember me!

14 If a man die, shall he live again? All the days of my warfare would I wait, Till my release should come.

15 Thou wouldest call, and I would answer thee: Thou wouldest have a desire to the work of thy hands.

16 But now thou numberest my steps: Dost thou not watch over my sin?

17 My transgression is sealed up in a bag, And thou fastenest up mine iniquity.

18 But the mountain falling cometh to nought; And the rock is removed out of its place;

19 The waters wear the stones; The overflowings thereof wash away the dust of the earth: So thou destroyest the hope of man.

20 Thou prevailest for ever against him, and he passeth; Thou changest his countenance, and sendest him away.

21 His sons come to honor, and he knoweth it not; And they are brought low, but he perceiveth it not of them.

22 But his flesh upon him hath pain, And his soul within him mourneth.