Now it happened when the days of feasting had completed their cycle, that Job would send and set them apart as holy. And he would rise up early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, “Perhaps my sons have sinned and cursed God in their hearts.” Thus Job did continually.

As for that night, let thick darkness take it; Let it not rejoice among the days of the year; Let it not come into the number of the months.

Who does great and unsearchable things, Wonders without number.

Since his days are determined, The number of his months is with You; And his limits You have set so that he cannot pass.

For now You number my steps, You do not keep watch over my sin.

The wicked man writhes in pain all his days, And numbered are the years stored up for the ruthless.

For what desire does he have for his household after him, When the number of his months is cut off?

Is there any number to His troops? And upon whom does His light not rise?

Does He not see my ways And number all my steps?

I would declare to Him the number of my steps; Like a prince I would approach Him—

Behold, God is exalted, and we do not know Him; The number of His years is unsearchable.

You know, for you were born then, And the number of your days is great!