Study Desk

Intelligent children make their parents proud; lazy students embarrass their parents.

Old people are distinguished by grandchildren; children take pride in their parents.

Discipline your children while you still have the chance; indulging them destroys them.

God-loyal people, living honest lives, make it much easier for their children.

16 Listen with respect to the father who raised you, and when your mother grows old, don't neglect her. Buy truth—don't sell it for love or money; buy wisdom, buy education, buy insight. Parents rejoice when their children turn out well; wise children become proud parents. So make your father happy! Make your mother proud!

Discipline your children; you'll be glad you did— they'll turn out delightful to live with.

A good woman is hard to find, and worth far more than diamonds. Her husband trusts her without reserve, and never has reason to regret it. Never spiteful, she treats him generously all her life long. She shops around for the best yarns and cottons, and enjoys knitting and sewing. She's like a trading ship that sails to faraway places and brings back exotic surprises. She's up before dawn, preparing breakfast for her family and organizing her day. She looks over a field and buys it, then, with money she's put aside, plants a garden. First thing in the morning, she dresses for work, rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started. She senses the worth of her work, is in no hurry to call it quits for the day. She's skilled in the crafts of home and hearth, diligent in homemaking. She's quick to assist anyone in need, reaches out to help the poor. She doesn't worry about her family when it snows; their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear. She makes her own clothing, and dresses in colorful linens and silks. Her husband is greatly respected when he deliberates with the city fathers. She designs gowns and sells them, brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops. Her clothes are well-made and elegant, and she always faces tomorrow with a smile. When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say, and she always says it kindly. She keeps an eye on everyone in her household, and keeps them all busy and productive. Her children respect and bless her; her husband joins in with words of praise: "Many women have done wonderful things, but you've outclassed them all!" Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades. The woman to be admired and praised is the woman who lives in the Fear-of- God . Give her everything she deserves! Festoon her life with praises!

Oh, I did great things: built houses, planted vineyards, designed gardens and parks and planted a variety of fruit trees in them, made pools of water to irrigate the groves of trees. I bought slaves, male and female, who had children, giving me even more slaves; then I acquired large herds and flocks, larger than any before me in Jerusalem. I piled up silver and gold, loot from kings and kingdoms. I gathered a chorus of singers to entertain me with song, and—most exquisite of all pleasures— voluptuous maidens for my bed.

I turned my head and saw yet another wisp of smoke on its way to nothingness: a solitary person, completely alone—no children, no family, no friends—yet working obsessively late into the night, compulsively greedy for more and more, never bothering to ask, "Why am I working like a dog, never having any fun? And who cares?" More smoke. A bad business.

Say a couple have scores of children and live a long, long life but never enjoy themselves—even though they end up with a big funeral! I'd say that a stillborn baby gets the better deal. It gets its start in a mist and ends up in the dark—unnamed. It sees nothing and knows nothing, but is better off by far than anyone living.

Heaven and earth, you're the jury. Listen to God 's case: "I had children and raised them well, and they turned on me. The ox knows who's boss, the mule knows the hand that feeds him, But not Israel. My people don't know up from down. Shame! Misguided God -dropouts, staggering under their guilt-baggage, Gang of miscreants, band of vandals— My people have walked out on me, their God , turned their backs on The Holy of Israel, walked off and never looked back.

I got two honest men, Uriah the priest and Zechariah son of Jeberekiah, to witness the document. Then I went home to my wife, the prophetess. She conceived and gave birth to a son. God told me, "Name him Maher-shalal-hash-baz. Before that baby says ‘Daddy' or ‘Mamma' the king of Assyria will have plundered the wealth of Damascus and the riches of Samaria." God spoke to me again, saying: "Because this people has turned its back on the gently flowing stream of Shiloah And gotten all excited over Rezin and the son of Remaliah, I'm stepping in and facing them with the wild floodwaters of the Euphrates, The king of Assyria and all his fanfare, a river in flood, bursting its banks, Pouring into Judah, sweeping everything before it, water up to your necks, A huge wingspan of a raging river, O Immanuel, spreading across your land." But face the facts, all you oppressors, and then wring your hands. Listen, all of you, far and near. Prepare for the worst and wring your hands. Yes, prepare for the worst and wring your hands! Plan and plot all you want—nothing will come of it. All your talk is mere talk, empty words, Because when all is said and done, the last word is Immanuel—God-With-Us. God spoke strongly to me, grabbed me with both hands and warned me not to go along with this people. He said: "Don't be like this people, always afraid somebody is plotting against them. Don't fear what they fear. Don't take on their worries. If you're going to worry, worry about The Holy. Fear God -of-the-Angel-Armies. The Holy can be either a Hiding Place or a Boulder blocking your way, The Rock standing in the willful way of both houses of Israel, A barbed-wire Fence preventing trespass to the citizens of Jerusalem. Many of them are going to run into that Rock and get their bones broken, Get tangled up in that barbed wire and not get free of it." Gather up the testimony, preserve the teaching for my followers, While I wait for God as long as he remains in hiding, while I wait and hope for him. I stand my ground and hope, I and the children God gave me as signs to Israel, Warning signs and hope signs from God -of-the-Angel-Armies, who makes his home in Mount Zion. When people tell you, "Try out the fortunetellers. Consult the spiritualists. Why not tap into the spirit-world, get in touch with the dead?" Tell them, "No, we're going to study the Scriptures." People who try the other ways get nowhere—a dead end! Frustrated and famished, they try one thing after another. When nothing works out they get angry, cursing first this god and then that one, Looking this way and that, up, down, and sideways—and seeing nothing, A blank wall, an empty hole. They end up in the dark with nothing.

Gather up the testimony, preserve the teaching for my followers, While I wait for God as long as he remains in hiding, while I wait and hope for him. I stand my ground and hope, I and the children God gave me as signs to Israel, Warning signs and hope signs from God -of-the-Angel-Armies, who makes his home in Mount Zion.

Their wicked lives raged like an out-of-control fire, the kind that burns everything in its path— Trees and bushes, weeds and grasses— filling the skies with smoke. God -of-the-Angel-Armies answered fire with fire, set the whole country on fire, Turned the people into consuming fires, consuming one another in their lusts— Appetites insatiable, stuffing and gorging themselves left and right with people and things. But still they starved. Not even their children were safe from their rapacious hunger. Manasseh ate Ephraim, and Ephraim Manasseh, and then the two ganged up against Judah. And after that, he was still angry, his fist still raised, ready to hit them again.

Doom to you who legislate evil, who make laws that make victims— Laws that make misery for the poor, that rob my destitute people of dignity, Exploiting defenseless widows, taking advantage of homeless children. What will you have to say on Judgment Day, when Doomsday arrives out of the blue? Who will you get to help you? What good will your money do you? A sorry sight you'll be then, huddled with the prisoners, or just some corpses stacked in the street. Even after all this, God is still angry, his fist still raised, ready to hit them again.

You Who Legislate Evil Doom to you who legislate evil, who make laws that make victims— Laws that make misery for the poor, that rob my destitute people of dignity, Exploiting defenseless widows, taking advantage of homeless children. What will you have to say on Judgment Day, when Doomsday arrives out of the blue? Who will you get to help you? What good will your money do you? A sorry sight you'll be then, huddled with the prisoners, or just some corpses stacked in the street. Even after all this, God is still angry, his fist still raised, ready to hit them again. "Doom to Assyria, weapon of my anger. My wrath is a cudgel in his hands! I send him against a godless nation, against the people I'm angry with. I command him to strip them clean, rob them blind, and then push their faces in the mud and leave them. But Assyria has another agenda; he has something else in mind. He's out to destroy utterly, to stamp out as many nations as he can. Assyria says, ‘Aren't my commanders all kings? Can't they do whatever they like? Didn't I destroy Calno as well as Carchemish? Hamath as well as Arpad? Level Samaria as I did Damascus? I've eliminated kingdoms full of gods far more impressive than anything in Jerusalem and Samaria. So what's to keep me from destroying Jerusalem in the same way I destroyed Samaria and all her god-idols?'" When the Master has finished dealing with Mount Zion and Jerusalem, he'll say, "Now it's Assyria's turn. I'll punish the bragging arrogance of the king of Assyria, his high and mighty posturing, the way he goes around saying, "‘I've done all this by myself. I know more than anyone. I've wiped out the boundaries of whole countries. I've walked in and taken anything I wanted. I charged in like a bull and toppled their kings from their thrones. I reached out my hand and took all that they treasured as easily as a boy taking a bird's eggs from a nest. Like a farmer gathering eggs from the henhouse, I gathered the world in my basket, And no one so much as fluttered a wing or squawked or even chirped.'"

You Who Legislate Evil Doom to you who legislate evil, who make laws that make victims— Laws that make misery for the poor, that rob my destitute people of dignity, Exploiting defenseless widows, taking advantage of homeless children. What will you have to say on Judgment Day, when Doomsday arrives out of the blue? Who will you get to help you? What good will your money do you? A sorry sight you'll be then, huddled with the prisoners, or just some corpses stacked in the street. Even after all this, God is still angry, his fist still raised, ready to hit them again. "Doom to Assyria, weapon of my anger. My wrath is a cudgel in his hands! I send him against a godless nation, against the people I'm angry with. I command him to strip them clean, rob them blind, and then push their faces in the mud and leave them. But Assyria has another agenda; he has something else in mind. He's out to destroy utterly, to stamp out as many nations as he can. Assyria says, ‘Aren't my commanders all kings? Can't they do whatever they like? Didn't I destroy Calno as well as Carchemish? Hamath as well as Arpad? Level Samaria as I did Damascus? I've eliminated kingdoms full of gods far more impressive than anything in Jerusalem and Samaria. So what's to keep me from destroying Jerusalem in the same way I destroyed Samaria and all her god-idols?'" When the Master has finished dealing with Mount Zion and Jerusalem, he'll say, "Now it's Assyria's turn. I'll punish the bragging arrogance of the king of Assyria, his high and mighty posturing, the way he goes around saying, "‘I've done all this by myself. I know more than anyone. I've wiped out the boundaries of whole countries. I've walked in and taken anything I wanted. I charged in like a bull and toppled their kings from their thrones. I reached out my hand and took all that they treasured as easily as a boy taking a bird's eggs from a nest. Like a farmer gathering eggs from the henhouse, I gathered the world in my basket, And no one so much as fluttered a wing or squawked or even chirped.'" Does an ax take over from the one who swings it? Does a saw act more important than the sawyer? As if a shovel did its shoveling by using a ditch digger! As if a hammer used the carpenter to pound nails! Therefore the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will send a debilitating disease on his robust Assyrian fighters. Under the canopy of God's bright glory a fierce fire will break out. Israel's Light will burst into a conflagration. The Holy will explode into a firestorm, And in one day burn to cinders every last Assyrian thornbush. God will destroy the splendid trees and lush gardens. The Assyrian body and soul will waste away to nothing like a disease-ridden invalid. A child could count what's left of the trees on the fingers of his two hands. And on that Day also, what's left of Israel, the ragtag survivors of Jacob, will no longer be fascinated by abusive, battering Assyria. They'll lean on God , The Holy—yes, truly. The ragtag remnant—what's left of Jacob—will come back to the Strong God. Your people Israel were once like the sand on the seashore, but only a scattered few will return. Destruction is ordered, brimming over with righteousness. For the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will finish here what he started all over the globe. Therefore the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, says: "My dear, dear people who live in Zion, don't be terrorized by the Assyrians when they beat you with clubs and threaten you with rods like the Egyptians once did. In just a short time my anger against you will be spent and I'll turn my destroying anger on them. I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will go after them with a cat-o'-nine-tails and finish them off decisively—as Gideon downed Midian at the rock Oreb, as Moses turned the tables on Egypt. On that day, Assyria will be pulled off your back, and the yoke of slavery lifted from your neck." Assyria's on the move: up from Rimmon, on to Aiath, through Migron, with a bivouac at Micmash. They've crossed the pass, set camp at Geba for the night. Ramah trembles with fright. Gibeah of Saul has run off. Cry for help, daughter of Gallim! Listen to her, Laishah! Do something, Anathoth! Madmenah takes to the hills. The people of Gebim flee in panic. The enemy's soon at Nob—nearly there! In sight of the city he shakes his fist At the mount of dear daughter Zion, the hill of Jerusalem. But now watch this: The Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, swings his ax and lops the branches, Chops down the giant trees, lays flat the towering forest-on-the-march. His ax will make toothpicks of that forest, that Lebanon-like army reduced to kindling.

You Who Legislate Evil Doom to you who legislate evil, who make laws that make victims— Laws that make misery for the poor, that rob my destitute people of dignity, Exploiting defenseless widows, taking advantage of homeless children. What will you have to say on Judgment Day, when Doomsday arrives out of the blue? Who will you get to help you? What good will your money do you? A sorry sight you'll be then, huddled with the prisoners, or just some corpses stacked in the street. Even after all this, God is still angry, his fist still raised, ready to hit them again. "Doom to Assyria, weapon of my anger. My wrath is a cudgel in his hands! I send him against a godless nation, against the people I'm angry with. I command him to strip them clean, rob them blind, and then push their faces in the mud and leave them. But Assyria has another agenda; he has something else in mind. He's out to destroy utterly, to stamp out as many nations as he can. Assyria says, ‘Aren't my commanders all kings? Can't they do whatever they like? Didn't I destroy Calno as well as Carchemish? Hamath as well as Arpad? Level Samaria as I did Damascus? I've eliminated kingdoms full of gods far more impressive than anything in Jerusalem and Samaria. So what's to keep me from destroying Jerusalem in the same way I destroyed Samaria and all her god-idols?'" When the Master has finished dealing with Mount Zion and Jerusalem, he'll say, "Now it's Assyria's turn. I'll punish the bragging arrogance of the king of Assyria, his high and mighty posturing, the way he goes around saying, "‘I've done all this by myself. I know more than anyone. I've wiped out the boundaries of whole countries. I've walked in and taken anything I wanted. I charged in like a bull and toppled their kings from their thrones. I reached out my hand and took all that they treasured as easily as a boy taking a bird's eggs from a nest. Like a farmer gathering eggs from the henhouse, I gathered the world in my basket, And no one so much as fluttered a wing or squawked or even chirped.'" Does an ax take over from the one who swings it? Does a saw act more important than the sawyer? As if a shovel did its shoveling by using a ditch digger! As if a hammer used the carpenter to pound nails! Therefore the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will send a debilitating disease on his robust Assyrian fighters. Under the canopy of God's bright glory a fierce fire will break out. Israel's Light will burst into a conflagration. The Holy will explode into a firestorm, And in one day burn to cinders every last Assyrian thornbush. God will destroy the splendid trees and lush gardens. The Assyrian body and soul will waste away to nothing like a disease-ridden invalid. A child could count what's left of the trees on the fingers of his two hands. And on that Day also, what's left of Israel, the ragtag survivors of Jacob, will no longer be fascinated by abusive, battering Assyria. They'll lean on God , The Holy—yes, truly. The ragtag remnant—what's left of Jacob—will come back to the Strong God. Your people Israel were once like the sand on the seashore, but only a scattered few will return. Destruction is ordered, brimming over with righteousness. For the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will finish here what he started all over the globe. Therefore the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, says: "My dear, dear people who live in Zion, don't be terrorized by the Assyrians when they beat you with clubs and threaten you with rods like the Egyptians once did. In just a short time my anger against you will be spent and I'll turn my destroying anger on them. I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will go after them with a cat-o'-nine-tails and finish them off decisively—as Gideon downed Midian at the rock Oreb, as Moses turned the tables on Egypt. On that day, Assyria will be pulled off your back, and the yoke of slavery lifted from your neck." Assyria's on the move: up from Rimmon, on to Aiath, through Migron, with a bivouac at Micmash. They've crossed the pass, set camp at Geba for the night. Ramah trembles with fright. Gibeah of Saul has run off. Cry for help, daughter of Gallim! Listen to her, Laishah! Do something, Anathoth! Madmenah takes to the hills. The people of Gebim flee in panic. The enemy's soon at Nob—nearly there! In sight of the city he shakes his fist At the mount of dear daughter Zion, the hill of Jerusalem. But now watch this: The Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, swings his ax and lops the branches, Chops down the giant trees, lays flat the towering forest-on-the-march. His ax will make toothpicks of that forest, that Lebanon-like army reduced to kindling.

You Who Legislate Evil Doom to you who legislate evil, who make laws that make victims— Laws that make misery for the poor, that rob my destitute people of dignity, Exploiting defenseless widows, taking advantage of homeless children. What will you have to say on Judgment Day, when Doomsday arrives out of the blue? Who will you get to help you? What good will your money do you? A sorry sight you'll be then, huddled with the prisoners, or just some corpses stacked in the street. Even after all this, God is still angry, his fist still raised, ready to hit them again. "Doom to Assyria, weapon of my anger. My wrath is a cudgel in his hands! I send him against a godless nation, against the people I'm angry with. I command him to strip them clean, rob them blind, and then push their faces in the mud and leave them. But Assyria has another agenda; he has something else in mind. He's out to destroy utterly, to stamp out as many nations as he can. Assyria says, ‘Aren't my commanders all kings? Can't they do whatever they like? Didn't I destroy Calno as well as Carchemish? Hamath as well as Arpad? Level Samaria as I did Damascus? I've eliminated kingdoms full of gods far more impressive than anything in Jerusalem and Samaria. So what's to keep me from destroying Jerusalem in the same way I destroyed Samaria and all her god-idols?'" When the Master has finished dealing with Mount Zion and Jerusalem, he'll say, "Now it's Assyria's turn. I'll punish the bragging arrogance of the king of Assyria, his high and mighty posturing, the way he goes around saying, "‘I've done all this by myself. I know more than anyone. I've wiped out the boundaries of whole countries. I've walked in and taken anything I wanted. I charged in like a bull and toppled their kings from their thrones. I reached out my hand and took all that they treasured as easily as a boy taking a bird's eggs from a nest. Like a farmer gathering eggs from the henhouse, I gathered the world in my basket, And no one so much as fluttered a wing or squawked or even chirped.'" Does an ax take over from the one who swings it? Does a saw act more important than the sawyer? As if a shovel did its shoveling by using a ditch digger! As if a hammer used the carpenter to pound nails! Therefore the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will send a debilitating disease on his robust Assyrian fighters. Under the canopy of God's bright glory a fierce fire will break out. Israel's Light will burst into a conflagration. The Holy will explode into a firestorm, And in one day burn to cinders every last Assyrian thornbush. God will destroy the splendid trees and lush gardens. The Assyrian body and soul will waste away to nothing like a disease-ridden invalid. A child could count what's left of the trees on the fingers of his two hands. And on that Day also, what's left of Israel, the ragtag survivors of Jacob, will no longer be fascinated by abusive, battering Assyria. They'll lean on God , The Holy—yes, truly. The ragtag remnant—what's left of Jacob—will come back to the Strong God. Your people Israel were once like the sand on the seashore, but only a scattered few will return. Destruction is ordered, brimming over with righteousness. For the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will finish here what he started all over the globe. Therefore the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, says: "My dear, dear people who live in Zion, don't be terrorized by the Assyrians when they beat you with clubs and threaten you with rods like the Egyptians once did. In just a short time my anger against you will be spent and I'll turn my destroying anger on them. I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will go after them with a cat-o'-nine-tails and finish them off decisively—as Gideon downed Midian at the rock Oreb, as Moses turned the tables on Egypt. On that day, Assyria will be pulled off your back, and the yoke of slavery lifted from your neck." Assyria's on the move: up from Rimmon, on to Aiath, through Migron, with a bivouac at Micmash. They've crossed the pass, set camp at Geba for the night. Ramah trembles with fright. Gibeah of Saul has run off. Cry for help, daughter of Gallim! Listen to her, Laishah! Do something, Anathoth! Madmenah takes to the hills. The people of Gebim flee in panic. The enemy's soon at Nob—nearly there! In sight of the city he shakes his fist At the mount of dear daughter Zion, the hill of Jerusalem. But now watch this: The Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, swings his ax and lops the branches, Chops down the giant trees, lays flat the towering forest-on-the-march. His ax will make toothpicks of that forest, that Lebanon-like army reduced to kindling.

You Who Legislate Evil Doom to you who legislate evil, who make laws that make victims— Laws that make misery for the poor, that rob my destitute people of dignity, Exploiting defenseless widows, taking advantage of homeless children. What will you have to say on Judgment Day, when Doomsday arrives out of the blue? Who will you get to help you? What good will your money do you? A sorry sight you'll be then, huddled with the prisoners, or just some corpses stacked in the street. Even after all this, God is still angry, his fist still raised, ready to hit them again. "Doom to Assyria, weapon of my anger. My wrath is a cudgel in his hands! I send him against a godless nation, against the people I'm angry with. I command him to strip them clean, rob them blind, and then push their faces in the mud and leave them. But Assyria has another agenda; he has something else in mind. He's out to destroy utterly, to stamp out as many nations as he can. Assyria says, ‘Aren't my commanders all kings? Can't they do whatever they like? Didn't I destroy Calno as well as Carchemish? Hamath as well as Arpad? Level Samaria as I did Damascus? I've eliminated kingdoms full of gods far more impressive than anything in Jerusalem and Samaria. So what's to keep me from destroying Jerusalem in the same way I destroyed Samaria and all her god-idols?'" When the Master has finished dealing with Mount Zion and Jerusalem, he'll say, "Now it's Assyria's turn. I'll punish the bragging arrogance of the king of Assyria, his high and mighty posturing, the way he goes around saying, "‘I've done all this by myself. I know more than anyone. I've wiped out the boundaries of whole countries. I've walked in and taken anything I wanted. I charged in like a bull and toppled their kings from their thrones. I reached out my hand and took all that they treasured as easily as a boy taking a bird's eggs from a nest. Like a farmer gathering eggs from the henhouse, I gathered the world in my basket, And no one so much as fluttered a wing or squawked or even chirped.'" Does an ax take over from the one who swings it? Does a saw act more important than the sawyer? As if a shovel did its shoveling by using a ditch digger! As if a hammer used the carpenter to pound nails! Therefore the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will send a debilitating disease on his robust Assyrian fighters. Under the canopy of God's bright glory a fierce fire will break out. Israel's Light will burst into a conflagration. The Holy will explode into a firestorm, And in one day burn to cinders every last Assyrian thornbush. God will destroy the splendid trees and lush gardens. The Assyrian body and soul will waste away to nothing like a disease-ridden invalid. A child could count what's left of the trees on the fingers of his two hands. And on that Day also, what's left of Israel, the ragtag survivors of Jacob, will no longer be fascinated by abusive, battering Assyria. They'll lean on God , The Holy—yes, truly. The ragtag remnant—what's left of Jacob—will come back to the Strong God. Your people Israel were once like the sand on the seashore, but only a scattered few will return. Destruction is ordered, brimming over with righteousness. For the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will finish here what he started all over the globe. Therefore the Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, says: "My dear, dear people who live in Zion, don't be terrorized by the Assyrians when they beat you with clubs and threaten you with rods like the Egyptians once did. In just a short time my anger against you will be spent and I'll turn my destroying anger on them. I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, will go after them with a cat-o'-nine-tails and finish them off decisively—as Gideon downed Midian at the rock Oreb, as Moses turned the tables on Egypt. On that day, Assyria will be pulled off your back, and the yoke of slavery lifted from your neck." Assyria's on the move: up from Rimmon, on to Aiath, through Migron, with a bivouac at Micmash. They've crossed the pass, set camp at Geba for the night. Ramah trembles with fright. Gibeah of Saul has run off. Cry for help, daughter of Gallim! Listen to her, Laishah! Do something, Anathoth! Madmenah takes to the hills. The people of Gebim flee in panic. The enemy's soon at Nob—nearly there! In sight of the city he shakes his fist At the mount of dear daughter Zion, the hill of Jerusalem. But now watch this: The Master, God -of-the-Angel-Armies, swings his ax and lops the branches, Chops down the giant trees, lays flat the towering forest-on-the-march. His ax will make toothpicks of that forest, that Lebanon-like army reduced to kindling.