Job 16:15-22

I wear burlap to show my grief. My pride lies in the dust. My eyes are red with weeping; dark shadows circle my eyes. Yet I have done no wrong, and my prayer is pure. “O earth, do not conceal my blood. Let it cry out on my behalf. Even now my witness is in heaven. My advocate is there on high. My friends scorn me, but I pour out my tears to God. I need someone to mediate between God and me, as a person mediates between friends. For soon I must go down that road from which I will never return.

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