The Weeping Prophet Curses His Birthday, but Maintains Hope.

Dear Diary,

Every day is hard now. I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed a nice meal and a few laughs. It’s all so serious all the time. God continues to give me messages of doom and destruction. Honestly, no one even knows my name anymore. They just say, “Here comes the weeping prophet.”

And they call me worse things.

No one likes the bearer of bad news. And I’ve got news for you: Being the bearer of bad news is no picnic either.

These sermons are terrible. Yesterday it was all about how the sword of God’s wrath would be drunk with blood [Jeremiah 46:10]. Try to wrap your head around that metaphor: God’s sword of death will drink so much blood it becomes intoxicated.

But today was new low: cannibalism. That’s right. Actual cannibalism.

God said, “I will cause them to eat the flesh of their sons and the flesh of their daughters, and every one shall eat the flesh of his friend” Jeremiah 19:9.

When people call me the ‘weeping prophet’ I want to say, “Of course! Could anyone prophesy this kind of devastation over his own nation and NOT weep?” A man would have to be a sociopath to preach these messages in anger like some kind of nutty religious zealot. I love these people. I love Israel and Judah. I love God’s people, and every day he tells me to prophesy horrible things to them if they won’t repent. There is nothing I can do but weep for them and their bad choices.

I think God weeps too.

You know what else? I still don’t have a wife because God told me not to [Jeremiah 16:1]. No wife and no kids. He won’t even allow me to attend weddings or funerals. Like I said, you’d weep too if you were me.

But IF I DID HAVE A WIFE, I’d be complaining to her instead of scribbling in a diary. And my imaginary wife would say, “Surely it’s not as bad as all that is it?”

And I would answer, “Yes. Here’s an example. God said he would wipe out the nations that take his people captive, but he would only punish us in measure.

“I will make a full end of all the nations whither I have driven thee, but I will not make a full end of thee, but correct thee in measure” Jeremiah 46:28.

Yep. Sure, hun. You’re right. It’s not so bad. God will wipe out the bad guys. But Israel and Judah he will only destroy up to a certain measure. He will correct us without wiping us completely off the map. Yep. Good news. Even the wrath of God has its limits.

Do I sound sarcastic? I am being sarcastic.

I think.

Kind of.

I mean, I love God, and I trust him. But today is another one of those days—like most days—where I hate delivering his messages. I hate being the messenger. I hate my life. It’s all doom and gloom and bad news.

No one wants to hear what I have to say. I’m the ‘oh-no-here-we-go-again’ guy. People see me coming and they cringe.

I feel like Job. (Except Job had a wife and lived to see four generations of his children! Job 42:16.)

What I have in common with Job is that sometimes I wish I’d never been born. I curse the day of my birth. I don’t celebrate it. Why would I?

“Cursed be the day wherein I was born. Let not the day be blessed. Cursed be the man who told my father he had a man-child. That man should have slain me in the womb. My mother should have been my grave. Why did I even come out of the womb? To see a lifetime of labor and sorrow? To live an entire life consumed with shame?” Jeremiah 20:14-18.

The other day I resolved to just stop preaching. To just keep my mouth shut. Mind my own business. Work quietly around the house, do a bit of gardening. Try to be a good neighbor. Retire peacefully. But I couldn’t do it! I failed even at keeping my mouth shut!

“I said, ‘I will not make mention of him, nor speak anymore in his name. But God’s word was in my heart like a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I grew weary with holding it in. I could not stay quiet!” Jeremiah 20:9.

Can you see why I hate my life? Why I curse my own birthday? Why everyone calls me the weeping prophet?

And yet, I have hope.

I do.

I see God. I know his hope and his love and his grace and forgiveness.

“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity, to give you a future and a hope” Jeremiah 29:11.

Even if hope is all I have, I will hold on to my hope in God. Even when I hate my life and curse my birth, I’m never without hope. God’s hope is always there, smoldering inside me, a hot coal of joy. His hope remains.

AΩ