Haggai 1:9The Message
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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.
You’ll plant sacks and sacks of seed in the field but get almost nothing—the grasshoppers will devour it. You’ll plant and hoe and prune vineyards but won’t drink or put up any wine—the worms will devour them. You’ll have groves of olive trees everywhere, but you’ll have no oil to rub on your face or hands—the olives will have fallen off. You’ll have sons and daughters but they won’t be yours for long—they’ll go off to captivity. Locusts will take over all your trees and crops.