Thus says Yahweh, author and anchor of creation,
to the people of Promise whose memory has failed:
When you were but a babe, I cradled you. I swept you
into my arms and nestled you under my chin.
I suckled you and sang sweetly, cheek to cheek,
calming your restless hands and feet.
From Pharaoh’s deadly bargain I purchased your release.
Why have you grown tired of my attention?
What beguiling voice has led you into this wanton, wayward desert of destruction—back into the arms
of the empires of vanity and vengeance?
Shall I unleash my righteous wrath against you?
Can your trust be hinged on nothing but
Assyrian brute force?
Shall I now save you with my destructive anger?
Shall I release you to the pillage of national security?
Thus says the Most High and Holy One of Heaven:
My heart recoils at the thought of plundering you
in order to pardon you.
Instead, I will woo you. I will wait you out.
(Do you yet seek me to utter? A clue—look
for my Presence among the clutter.)
©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Inspired by Hosea 11 & Matthew 7:7-8.