^12-16 “A word came to me in secret—
    a mere whisper of a word, but I heard it clearly.
It came in a scary dream one night,
    after I had fallen into a deep, deep sleep.
Dread stared me in the face, and Terror.
    I was scared to death—I shook from head to foot.
A spirit glided right in front of me—
    the hair on my head stood on end.
I couldn’t tell what it was that appeared there—
    a blur . . . and then I heard a muffled voice:

^17-21 “‘How can mere mortals be more righteous than God?
    How can humans be purer than their Creator?
Why, God doesn’t even trust his own servants,
    doesn’t even cheer his angels,
So how much less these bodies composed of mud,
    fragile as moths?
These bodies of ours are here today and gone tomorrow,
    and no one even notices—gone without a trace.
When the tent stakes are ripped up, the tent collapses—
    we die and are never the wiser for having lived.’”