Job 30:22-31

30:22 You pick me up on the wind and make me ride on it;

you toss me about in the storm.

30:23 I know that you are bringing me to death,

to the meeting place for all the living.

The Contrast With the Past

30:24 “Surely one does not stretch out his hand

against a broken man

when he cries for help in his distress.

30:25 Have I not wept for the unfortunate?

Was not my soul grieved for the poor?

30:26 But when I hoped for good, trouble came;

when I expected light, then darkness came.

30:27 My heart is in turmoil unceasingly;

the days of my affliction confront me.

30:28 I go about blackened, but not by the sun;

in the assembly I stand up and cry for help.

30:29 I have become a brother to jackals

and a companion of ostriches.

30:30 My skin has turned dark on me;

my body is hot with fever.

30:31 My harp is used for mourning

and my flute for the sound of weeping.