7 [These afflictions] my soul refuses to touch! Such things are like diseased food to me [sickening and repugnant]!
8 Oh, that I might have my request, and that God would grant me the thing that I long for!
9 I even wish that it would please God to crush me, that He would let loose His hand and cut me off!
10 Then would I still have consolation–yes, I would leap [for joy] amid unsparing pain [though I shrink from it]–that I have not concealed or denied the words of the Holy One!
11 What strength have I left, that I should wait and hope? And what is ahead of me, that I should be patient?
12 Is my strength and endurance that of stones? Or is my flesh made of bronze?
13 Is it not that I have no help in myself, and that wisdom is quite driven from me?