Numbers 11:11 - The Message11-15 Moses said to God, “Why are you treating me this way? What did I ever do to you to deserve this? Did I conceive them? Was I their mother? So why dump the responsibility of this people on me? Why tell me to carry them around like a nursing mother, carry them all the way to the land you promised to their ancestors? Where am I supposed to get meat for all these people who are whining to me, ‘Give us meat; we want meat.’ I can’t do this by myself—it’s too much, all these people. If this is how you intend to treat me, do me a favor and kill me. I’ve seen enough; I’ve had enough. Let me out of here.” Ver CapítuloMás versionesKing James Version (Oxford) 176911 And Moses said unto the LORD, Wherefore hast thou afflicted thy servant? and wherefore have I not found favour in thy sight, that thou layest the burden of all this people upon me? Ver CapítuloAmplified Bible - Classic Edition11 And Moses said to the Lord, Why have You dealt ill with Your servants? And why have I not found favor in Your sight, that You lay the burden of all this people on me? Ver CapítuloAmerican Standard Version (1901)11 And Moses said unto Jehovah, Wherefore hast thou dealt ill with thy servant? and wherefore have I not found favor in thy sight, that thou layest the burden of all this people upon me? Ver CapítuloCommon English Bible11 Moses said to the LORD, “Why have you treated your servant so badly? And why haven’t I found favor in your eyes, for you have placed the burden of all these people on me? Ver CapítuloCatholic Public Domain Version11 And so he said to the Lord: "Why have you afflicted your servant? Why do I not find favor before you? And why have you imposed the weight of this entire people upon me? Ver Capítulo |
Numbers 11:11
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“When you said, ‘It doesn’t pay to serve God. What do we ever get out of it? When we did what he said and went around with long faces, serious about God-of-the-Angel-Armies, what difference did it make? Those who take life into their own hands are the lucky ones. They break all the rules and get ahead anyway. They push God to the limit and get by with it.’”
Unlucky mother—that you had me as a son, given the unhappy job of indicting the whole country! I’ve never hurt or harmed a soul, and yet everyone is out to get me. But, God knows, I’ve done everything I could to help them, prayed for them and against their enemies. I’ve always been on their side, trying to stave off disaster. God knows how I’ve tried! * * *
Job prayed: “Here’s what I want to say: Don’t, God, bring in a verdict of guilty without letting me know the charges you’re bringing. How does this fit into what you once called ‘good’— giving me a hard time, spurning me, a life you shaped by your very own hands, and then blessing the plots of the wicked? You don’t look at things the way we mortals do. You’re not taken in by appearances, are you? Unlike us, you’re not working against a deadline. You have all eternity to work things out. So what’s this all about, anyway—this compulsion to dig up some dirt, to find some skeleton in my closet? You know good and well I’m not guilty. You also know no one can help me.
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