Job 7:2
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Like a slave he longs for shade; like a hireling he waits for his wages.
Commentaries
Excerpts gathered from published commentaries to ground the reading.
Job, in this chapter, goes on to express the bitter sense he had of his calamities and to justify himself in his desire of death. I. He complains to himself and his friends of his troubles, and the constant agitation he was in (Job 7:1-6). II. He turns to God, and expostulates with him (Job 7:7, to the end), in which, 1. He pleads the final period which death puts to our present state (Job 7:7-10). 2. He passionately complains of the miserable condition he was now in (Job 7:11-16). 3. He wonders that God will thus contend with him, and begs for the pardon of his sins and a speedy release out of his miseries (Job 7:17-21). It is hard to methodize the speeches of one who owned himself almost desperate, Job 6:26.
Open source ↗7:2 A worker was to be paid at the end of each day (Lev 19:13; Deut 24:15), though this did not always happen (Jer 22:13; Mal 3:5; Jas 5:4).
Open source ↗Original language
The Hebrew and Greek words behind this passage, with Strong's numbers — from openscriptures (CC BY-SA).
Cross-references
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You must not defraud your neighbor or rob him. You must not withhold until morning the wages due a hired hand.
You are to pay his wages each day before sunset, because he is poor and depends on them. Otherwise he may cry out to the LORD against you, and you will be guilty of sin.
“Then I will draw near to you for judgment. And I will be a swift witness against sorcerers and adulterers and perjurers, against oppressors of the widowed and fatherless, and against those who defraud laborers of their wages and deny justice to the foreigner but do not fear Me,” says the LORD of Hosts.
Look, the wages you withheld from the workmen who mowed your fields are crying out against you. The cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of Hosts.
‘Prepare for battle against her; rise up, let us attack at noon. Woe to us, for the daylight is fading; the evening shadows grow long.
I stretch out my hands to You; my soul thirsts for You like a parched land. Selah
I open my mouth and pant, longing for Your commandments.