Albert Barnes Commentary Job 14:19

"The waters wear the stones; The overflowings thereof wash away the dust of the earth: So thou destroyest the hope of man." — Job 14:19 (ASV)

The waters wear the stones - By their constant attrition, they wear away even the hard rocks, and these disappear and return no more. The meaning is that constant changes are occurring in nature, and humanity resembles those objects that are removed to appear no more, unlike the productions of the vegetable world that spring up again.

It is possible that this also includes the idea that the patience, constancy, firmness, and life of any person must be worn out by long-continued trials, just as even hard rocks would be worn away by the constant attrition of waters.

You wash away - The margin says, “Overflowest.” This is literally the meaning of the Hebrew תשׁטף tîshâṭaph. However, it also includes the sense of washing away by inundation.

The things which grow out of the dust of the earth - Herder and Noyes translate this as “the floods overflow the dust of the earth,” and this aligns with the interpretation of Good and Rosenmuller. Castellio renders it similarly, as does Luther: “Tropfen flossen die Erde weg.” This is probably the true meaning.

The Hebrew word translated as “the things which grow out,” ספיח saphîyach—meaning properly that which “is poured out,” from ספח sâphach (to pour out, to spread out)—is applied to grain produced spontaneously from kernels of the previous year, without new seed (Leviticus 25:5–11; 2 Kings 19:29). See the notes at Isaiah 37:30. However, here it probably means a flood—that which flows out—and which washes away the earth.

The dust of the earth - This refers to the earth or the land on the banks of streams. The meaning is that just as a flood sweeps away the soil, so human hope was destroyed.

You destroy the hope of man - This means by death, as the connection demands. It is the language of despondency. A tree would spring up again, but humans would die like a removed rock, like land washed away, like a falling mountain, and would revive no more.

If Job at times had a hope of a future state, that hope also seems at other times to fail him completely, and he sinks down in utter despondency. At best, his views of the future world were dark and obscure.

He seems never to have had clear conceptions of heaven—of the future holiness and blessedness of the righteous. Instead, he anticipated, at best, only a residence in the world of disembodied spirits: a dark, dreary, sad world, to which the grave was the entrance, and where the light was like darkness.

With such anticipations, we should not wonder that his mind sank into despondency. Nor should we be surprised at the expressions he so often used, which seem so inconsistent with the feelings a child of God should cherish.

In our trials, let us imitate his patience but not his despondency. Let us copy his example in his better moments, when he was full of confidence in God, and not his language of complaint or his unhappy reflections on the government of the Most High.