Study Desk

God did carry out, item by item, exactly what he said he'd do. He always said he'd do this. Now he's done it—torn the place down. He's let your enemies walk all over you, declared them world champions!

"Look at us, God . Think it over. Have you ever treated anyone like this? Should women eat their own babies, the very children they raised? Should priests and prophets be murdered in the Master's own Sanctuary?

"You invited, like friends to a party, men to swoop down in attack so that on the big day of God 's wrath no one would get away. The children I loved and reared—gone, gone, gone."

I'm the man who has seen trouble, trouble coming from the lash of God 's anger. He took me by the hand and walked me into pitch-black darkness. Yes, he's given me the back of his hand over and over and over again.

He ground my face into the gravel. He pounded me into the mud. I gave up on life altogether. I've forgotten what the good life is like. I said to myself, "This is it. I'm finished. God is a lost cause."

God 's loyal love couldn't have run out, his merciful love couldn't have dried up. They're created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over). He's all I've got left.

God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits, to the woman who diligently seeks. It's a good thing to quietly hope, quietly hope for help from God . It's a good thing when you're young to stick it out through the hard times.

Stomping down hard on luckless prisoners, Refusing justice to victims in the court of High God, Tampering with evidence— the Master does not approve of such things.

Who do you think "spoke and it happened"? It's the Master who gives such orders. Doesn't the High God speak everything, good things and hard things alike, into being? And why would anyone gifted with life complain when punished for sin?

Let's take a good look at the way we're living and reorder our lives under God . Let's lift our hearts and hands at one and the same time, praying to God in heaven: "We've been contrary and willful, and you haven't forgiven.

"The tears stream from my eyes, an artesian well of tears, Until you, God , look down from on high, look and see my tears. When I see what's happened to the young women in the city, the pain breaks my heart.

"I called out your name, O God , called from the bottom of the pit. You listened when I called out, ‘Don't shut your ears! Get me out of here! Save me!' You came close when I called out. You said, ‘It's going to be all right.'

"You took my side, Master; you brought me back alive! God , you saw the wrongs heaped on me. Give me my day in court! Yes, you saw their mean-minded schemes, their plots to destroy me.

"You heard, God , their vicious gossip, their behind-my-back plots to ruin me. They never quit, these enemies of mine, dreaming up mischief, hatching out malice, day after day after day. Sitting down or standing up—just look at them!— they mock me with vulgar doggerel.

"Make them pay for what they've done, God . Give them their just deserts. Break their miserable hearts! Damn their eyes! Get good and angry. Hunt them down. Make a total demolition here under your heaven!"

God let all his anger loose, held nothing back. He poured out his raging wrath. He set a fire in Zion that burned it to the ground.

God himself scattered them. No longer does he look out for them. He has nothing to do with the priests; he cares nothing for the elders.

Our king, our life's breath, the anointed of God , was caught in their traps— Our king under whose protection we always said we'd live.

"Remember, God , all we've been through. Study our plight, the black mark we've made in history. Our precious land has been given to outsiders, our homes to strangers. Orphans we are, not a father in sight, and our mothers no better than widows. We have to pay to drink our own water. Even our firewood comes at a price. We're nothing but slaves, bullied and bowed, worn out and without any rest. We sold ourselves to Assyria and Egypt just to get something to eat. Our parents sinned and are no more, and now we're paying for the wrongs they did. Slaves rule over us; there's no escape from their grip. We risk our lives to gather food in the bandit-infested desert. Our skin has turned black as an oven, dried out like old leather from the famine. Our wives were raped in the streets in Zion, and our virgins in the cities of Judah. They hanged our princes by their hands, dishonored our elders. Strapping young men were put to women's work, mere boys forced to do men's work. The city gate is empty of wise elders. Music from the young is heard no more. All the joy is gone from our hearts. Our dances have turned into dirges. The crown of glory has toppled from our head. Woe! Woe! Would that we'd never sinned! Because of all this we're heartsick; we can't see through the tears. On Mount Zion, wrecked and ruined, jackals pace and prowl. And yet, God , you're sovereign still, your throne intact and eternal. So why do you keep forgetting us? Why dump us and leave us like this? Bring us back to you, God —we're ready to come back. Give us a fresh start. As it is, you've cruelly disowned us. You've been so very angry with us."

When I was thirty years of age, I was living with the exiles on the Kebar River. On the fifth day of the fourth month, the sky opened up and I saw visions of God.