I’m studying Jeremiah the prophet, and oh Jeremiah, if only you knew! If only you knew how much you’d be vindicated, how much you matter.
God had forbade you to marry, to find love, to start a family and continue your line. Of course, who’d want to raise children during a siege and exile.
Everybody mocked you, even your own friends and family. You kept strong and courageous in front of them, in front of all your naysayers, even in front of the king. But in private, you cried out to God. You melted before God, completely open and vulnerable to God.
You invited the high priest and his men to the bottom of Hinnom and cracked that jar, saying it was them. It was a suicide mission, but you did it couragreously and obediently. You were then beaten, shackled, and thrown into a mud-filled cistern, and yet you felt honored to bear the word of God.
Little did you know that your words would be kept for thousands of years, read over and over by all generations. You’d be upheld by other prophets and honored by a foreign king long after your death. The very Son of God would quote your heartfelt words. Though your life was spent in complete servitude to the God of the universe, unable to enjoy anything other generations enjoyed, God made sure you were vindicated in all the ages to come, renowned and honored.
I love Jeremiah, his vulnerability, courage, and his story.