Susan LaffertyOver and over. Ezekiel repeats the phrases.
“The word of the Lord came to me.”
“This is what the Lord God says.”
“This is the declaration of the Lord God.”
A rhythm. Keeping the Lord prominent. Essential. To all the prophet pens on the page.
One Christmas in Karachi. Mary’s travel to Bethlehem in her pregnancy catches my attention. And imagination.
I’m expecting our second child at the time. Struggling with all-day sickness. I put myself in her shoes. On the rough road from Nazareth.
Arriving. Travel weary. And finding no place to stay.
Making do in temporary quarters. Where animals are kept.
Giving birth.
Away from home and the familiar.
Placing a newborn in the feeding trough.
Yet, treasure. In the midst of it all. She holds the Savior of the world in her arms.
Isaiah. Prophet and poet. Master of prose. Skillfully taking us to ruin and glory.
“The city of chaos is shattered;
Every house is closed to entry.
In the streets they cry for wine.
All joy grows dark;
Earth’s rejoicing goes into exile.
Only desolation remains in the city;
its gate has collapsed in ruins.”
Isaiah 24:10-12
Well-placed words. And we see the broken place. Grieve the curse that consumes the earth and its inhabitants. “…for they have transgressed teachings, overstepped decrees, and broken the permanent covenant” (24:5).
