Job 21:1-34 CEB

[1] Then Job answered: [2] Listen carefully to my remarks and let that comfort you. [3] Bear with me so I can speak, I myself; and after my reply you can mock. [4] Are my complaints against another human; why is my patience short? [5] Turn to me and be appalled; lay your hand over your mouth. [6] If I recall it, I’m scared; shaking seizes my body. [7] Why do the wicked live, grow old, and even become strong? [8] Their children are always with them, their offspring in their sight, [9] their houses safe from dread, God’s punishing stick not upon them. [10] Their bull always breeds successfully; their cows give birth and never miscarry. [11] They send forth their little ones like sheep; their infants bounce around. [12] They raise drum and lyre, rejoice at the sound of a flute. [13] They spend their days contentedly, go down to the grave peacefully. [14] They say to God, “Turn away from us; we take no pleasure in knowing your ways; [15] who is the Almighty that we should serve him, and what can we gain if we meet him?” [16] Look, isn’t their well-being the work of their own hands? A sinner’s logic is beyond me. [17] How often does the lamp of the wicked flicker or disaster come upon them, with its fury inflicting pain on them? [18] Let them be like straw in the wind, like dry grass stolen by a storm. [19] God stores up his punishment for his children. Let him destroy them so they know. [20] Let their own eyes witness their doom. Let them drink from the Almighty’s wrath. [21] What do they care about their household after they die, when their numbered days are cut off? [22] Will they instruct God—he who judges the most powerful? [23] Someone dies in wonderful health, completely comfortable and well, [24] their buckets full of milk, their bones marrow-filled and sound. [25] Another dies in bitter spirit, never having tasted the good things. [26] They lie together in the dust and worms cover them. [27] Look, I know your thoughts; your plans harm me. [28] You say, “Where is the official’s house? Where is the tent, the dwelling of the wicked?” [29] Haven’t you asked travelers or paid attention to their reports? [30] On the day of disaster the wicked are spared; on the day of fury they are rescued. [31] Who can criticize their behavior to their faces; they act, and who can avenge them? [32] They are carried to their graves; someone keeps guard over their tombs. [33] The soil near the desert streambed is sweet to them; everyone marches after them—those before them, beyond counting. [34] How empty is your comfort to me; only deceit remains in your responses.