Job: I want to ask God for forgiveness
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“My soul is weary of my life. I will give free course to my complaint. I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
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I will tell God, ‘Do not condemn me. Show me why you contend with me.
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Is it good to you that you should oppress, that you should despise the work of your hands, and smile on the counsel of the wicked?
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Do you have eyes of flesh? Or do you see as man sees?
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Are your days as the days of mortals, or your years as man’s years,
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that you inquire after my iniquity, and search after my sin?
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Although you know that I am not wicked, there is no one who can deliver out of your hand.
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“‘Your hands have framed me and fashioned me altogether, yet you destroy me.
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Remember, I beg you, that you have fashioned me as clay. Will you bring me into dust again?
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Haven’t you poured me out like milk, and curdled me like cheese?
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You have clothed me with skin and flesh, and knit me together with bones and sinews.
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You have granted me life and loving kindness. Your visitation has preserved my spirit.
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Yet you hid these things in your heart. I know that this is with you:
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if I sin, then you mark me. You will not acquit me from my iniquity.
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If I am wicked, woe to me. If I am righteous, I still will not lift up my head, being filled with disgrace, and conscious of my affliction.
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If my head is held high, you hunt me like a lion. Again you show yourself powerful to me.
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You renew your witnesses against me, and increase your indignation on me. Changes and warfare are with me.
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“‘Why, then, have you brought me out of the womb? I wish I had given up the spirit, and no eye had seen me.
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I should have been as though I had not been. I should have been carried from the womb to the grave.
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Aren’t my days few? Stop! Leave me alone, that I may find a little comfort,
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before I go where I will not return from, to the land of darkness and of the shadow of death;
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the land dark as midnight, of the shadow of death, without any order, where the light is as midnight.’”