God Waters Uninhabited Land and Feeds Wild Creatures

Rain falls where no human will farm

Who has divided a watercourse for the overflowing of waters, or a way for the lightning of thunder, to cause it to rain on the earth where no man is, on the wilderness wherein there is no man, to satisfy the desolate and waste ground, and to cause the bud of the tender herb to spring forth?

The questions decenter human utility. God waters a place that will not pay Job back. Has the rain a father? Who has begotten the drops of dew? Out of whose womb came the ice? The hoary frost of heaven, who has gendered it? The waters are hid as with a stone, and the face of the deep is frozen.

Constellations and scavengers eat without Job's permission

Can you bind the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion? Can you bring forth Mazzaroth in his season? Can you guide Arcturus with his sons? Do you know the ordinances of heaven? Can you set the dominion thereof in the earth? Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, that abundance of waters may cover you? Can you send lightnings, that they may go and say to you, Here we are?

Who has put wisdom in the inward parts, or given understanding to the heart? Who can number the clouds in wisdom? Who can stay the bottles of heaven, when the dust grows into hardness, and the clods cleave fast together? Will you hunt the prey for the lion, or fill the appetite of the young lions, when they couch in their dens and abide in the covert to lie in wait? Who provides for the raven his food, when his young ones cry to God and wander for lack of meat?

The LORD feeds what does not serve a household. That vision does not declare human suffering unimportant. It refuses a universe whose only meaning is Job's table. It is also not a promise that every cry, human or avian, is visibly filled on the day it is made.