The Desire for Rest in Death

Job 3:11-19

Why did I not perish at birth; why did I not die as I came from the womb?

Why were there knees to receive me, and breasts that I should be nursed?

For now I would be lying down in peace; I would be asleep and at rest

with kings and counselors of the earth, who built for themselves cities now in ruins,

or with princes who had gold, who filled their houses with silver.

Or why was I not hidden like a stillborn child, like an infant who never sees daylight?

There the wicked cease from raging, and there the weary find rest.

The captives enjoy their ease; they do not hear the voice of the oppressor.

Both small and great are there, and the slave is freed from his master.