Job 9:25-33

“Now my days are swifter than a runner; They flee away, they see no good. They slip by like reed boats, Like an eagle that swoops on its prey. Though I say, ‘I will forget my complaint, I will leave off my sad countenance and be cheerful,’ I am afraid of all my pains, I know that You will not acquit me. I am accounted wicked, Why then should I toil in vain? If I should wash myself with snow And cleanse my hands with lye, Yet You would plunge me into the pit, And my own clothes would abhor me. For He is not a man as I am that I may answer Him, That we may go to court together. There is no umpire between us, Who may lay his hand upon us both.