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«His» / Симфония / NIV

Слово: «His» встречается 4 905 раз в 149 стихах выбранной книги.
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Стихи 1–50 из 149
13
His sons used to hold feasts in their homes on their birthdays, and they would invite their three sisters to eat and drink with them.
“Have you not put a hedge around him and his household and everything he has? You have blessed the work of his hands, so that his flocks and herds are spread throughout the land.
At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship
Then the Lord said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him; he is blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil. And he still maintains his integrity, though you incited me against him to ruin him without any reason.”
“Skin for skin!” Satan replied. “A man will give all he has for his own life.
But now stretch out your hand and strike his flesh and bones, and he will surely curse you to your face.”
The Lord said to Satan, “Very well, then, he is in your hands; but you must spare his life.”
So Satan went out from the presence of the Lord and afflicted Job with painful sores from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.
His wife said to him, “Are you still maintaining your integrity? Curse God and die!”
Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.
1 After this, Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth.
At the breath of God they perish; at the blast of his anger they are no more.
‘Can a mortal be more righteous than God? Can even a strong man be more pure than his Maker?
If God places no trust in his servants, if he charges his angels with error,
I myself have seen a fool taking root, but suddenly his house was cursed.
His children are far from safety, crushed in court without a defender.
The hungry consume his harvest, taking it even from among thorns, and the thirsty pant after his wealth.
For he wounds, but he also binds up; he injures, but his hands also heal.
that God would be willing to crush me, to let loose his hand and cut off my life!
He will never come to his house again; his place will know him no more.
His wisdom is profound, his power is vast. Who has resisted him and come out unscathed?
He moves mountains without their knowing it and overturns them in his anger.
God does not restrain his anger; even the cohorts of Rahab cowered at his feet.
someone to remove God’s rod from me, so that his terror would frighten me no more.
Oh, how I wish that God would speak, that he would open his lips against you
The tents of marauders are undisturbed, and those who provoke God are secure — those God has in his hand.
In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.
“To God belong wisdom and power; counsel and understanding are his.
To him belong strength and insight; both deceived and deceiver are his.
Would not his splendor terrify you? Would not the dread of him fall on you?
Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him; I will surely defend my ways to his face.
A person’s days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.
So look away from him and let him alone, till he has put in his time like a hired laborer.
But a man dies and is laid low; he breathes his last and is no more.
If God places no trust in his holy ones, if even the heavens are not pure in his eyes,
All his days the wicked man suffers torment, the ruthless man through all the years stored up for him.
Terrifying sounds fill his ears; when all seems well, marauders attack him.
because he shakes his fist at God and vaunts himself against the Almighty,
“Though his face is covered with fat and his waist bulges with flesh,
He will no longer be rich and his wealth will not endure, nor will his possessions spread over the land.
He will not escape the darkness; a flame will wither his shoots, and the breath of God’s mouth will carry him away.
Before his time he will wither, and his branches will not flourish.
God assails me and tears me in his anger and gnashes his teeth at me; my opponent fastens on me his piercing eyes.
All was well with me, but he shattered me; he seized me by the neck and crushed me. He has made me his target;
his archers surround me. Without pity, he pierces my kidneys and spills my gall on the ground.
“The lamp of a wicked man is snuffed out; the flame of his fire stops burning.
The light in his tent becomes dark; the lamp beside him goes out.
The vigor of his step is weakened; his own schemes throw him down.
His feet thrust him into a net; he wanders into its mesh.
A noose is hidden for him on the ground; a trap lies in his path.
Стихи 1–50 из 149
13
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Симфония: New International Version

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