Starting with Job 3, the complexion of the book changes. We no longer get the revealing glimpses behind the veil separating heaven and earth. All we are left with is the facts on the ground: An ostensibly righteous man has lost everything and been left in physical agony with a painful disease. The remainder of this book is a series of poetic dialogues between Job and his friends as they attempt to make sense out of his circumstances. Why has this happened to him? We, the readers, know because we've been told. Imagine how it must have seemed to them without this inside knowledge.
Job is the one who begins the conversation. His sufferings have brought him into a profound depression. His sentiment in chapter 3 could be summed up as, "I wish I were dead" - or, perhaps more precisely - "I wish I had never been born."
Job displays a morbid focus on death, wishing to pass out of this life with its sufferings and find rest in the grave. He believes it would have been better for him to have never existed than to have endured what he has been through.
And who of us can blame him? Perhaps you've even been there yourself. Certainly I have seen hospice patients who seem to linger on the edge of death who wonder the same thing that Job does in verses 20-22: "Why is light given to one in misery, and life to the bitter in soul, who long for death, but it does not come, and dig for it more than hidden treasures, who rejoice exceedingly, and are glad when they find the grave?"
Even though Job may disagree with God about the wisdom of his birth in the first place, and wish for the end of his life as soon as possible, his words are not accusatory or belligerent. He is just miserable.
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