Job 19:21-27

Pity me, my friends, pity me, because the hand of God has hit me. Why do you chase me as God does? Haven’t you hurt me enough? “How I wish my words were written down, written on a scroll. I wish they were carved with an iron pen into lead, or carved into stone forever. I know that my Defender lives, and in the end he will stand upon the earth. Even after my skin has been destroyed, in my flesh I will see God. I will see him myself; I will see him with my very own eyes. How my heart wants that to happen!