A Poem Inspired by Job 8–10
O Lord, my heart is burdened low,
With questions I can’t seem to know.
Like Job, I cry in dark despair,
Yet wonder—are You truly there?
My friends declare that pain must mean
Some hidden sin still lurks unseen.
But, Lord, I’ve searched—I’ve tried to find
A fault that justifies my mind.
They speak of justice, firm and cold,
Of cause and consequence foretold.
Yet mercy, Lord, I long to see—
Does suffering mean You’re far from me?
I look upon the vast night sky,
The stars, Orion soaring high.
You stretch the heavens, rule the waves,
And yet—my soul still longs to crave.
I am but dust, and You are wise,
Yet, through my tears, I lift my eyes.
I plead for one to take my place,
To stand for me before Your face.
A Mediator, strong and true,
Who knows my pain and suffers too.
One hand in heaven, one in dust,
Who speaks for me in love and trust.
And so, I wait—though night is long,
Though silence drowns my pleading song.
I do not see, yet I will stand,
For nothing slips from Your great hand.
For nothing’s lost beyond Your sight,
And even sorrow births new light.
O Lord, my God, when all seems vain,
Still You will weave my loss for gain.
I wrestle, yes, but still I pray—
For dawn will break, and come what may,
My God, my King, in You I trust,
Redeemer, wise and ever just.
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