Exile was no longer just a rumor.
The first caravans had set off for Babylon. Men in chains. Women weeping.
Confused children. The city still stood, but something essential had been broken.
Jeremiah felt it in the air.
Jerusalem breathed fear… and denial.
"They'll be back soon," they said. "God won't let this last."The
false prophets multiplied their messages.
"Two years," they assured. "Nothing more."
Jeremiah listened… and wept.
Because I knew it wasn't true.
One afternoon, the word of the Lord came to him clearly.
"Write," he told him. "Don't speak. Write."
Jeremiah obeyed.
He took a roll of paper. He prepared the ink. He sat in silence. Not to shout… but to
think each word carefully. Because this time he wasn't speaking to those who hated
him, but to thethat they suffered.
To the captives.
"What do I tell them?" she asked softly. "How do you speak hope to someone who
has lost everything?"The response was unexpected.
It wasn't an immediate
promise.It was not a quick
release.
It wasn't a cheap
consolation prize.It was
true.
Jeremiah began to write.
"Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the captives whom I have taken
captivefrom Jerusalem to Babylon…"
The phrase hurt him.
Ǫue I had taken.
It didn't say "that I
allowed".It said, "What did
I do?"
He took a deep breath and continued.
"Build houses and live in them.
Plant gardens and eat their fruit."
It stopped.
"Houses?" he whispered.
"Orchards? That wasn't what
they expected to hear."
He continued writing.
"Take wives, have sons and daughters."Multiply
there, and do not decrease."
Jeremiah felt a knot in his chest.
"This means they won't be back anytime soon,"
he thought. But he obeyed.
"Seek the peace of the city to which I have taken you captive,
and pray for her to the Lord,"For in his peace you will have peace."He leaned back.
"Pray for Babylon," he muttered. "No one will want to hear
this." Still, he continued.
"For thus says the Lord:
When seventy years are completed in
Babylon, I will visit them
and I will keep my word."
Seventy.
A whole life.
Tears fell onto the parchment.
"How will they accept this?" he asked. "How do you survive knowing you won't see
the end?"
The answer came gently.
Giving them a future, even if they don't see it.
Jeremiah wrote the last lines with a trembling hand.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans
to prosper you and not to harm you,
to give them a future and hope."
It stopped.
That phrase did not erase the
exile.It didn't cancel the
pain.
But it redeemed him.
When he finished, he sealed the letter and gave it to the messengers who would
depart for Babylon.
"Everyone should read it," he said. "Don't hide it."
The men nodded, although they didn't fully
understand.Days later, the reaction came.Not since Babylon…
but from Jerusalem.
-Traitor!
—Now he's telling us to accept exile!
—Destroy the people's hope!The false
prophets were enraged.
"He's lying!" they shouted. "God will soon break the
yoke!"Jeremiah listened to everything in silence.
I knew the message wouldn't be
popular.It never was.
Weeks later, news arrived from Babylon. The
letter had been read.
At first, there was crying.
—Seventy years?
—Won't we return?
But then… something changed.
Some began to build.Others sowed.
Some got married.
Others learned to live.
And in the midst of exile, something unexpected was born:
True hope.
Not the hope of escape…
but the hope of living.
Jeremiah learned of this one night, when a messenger returned.
"Not everyone is happy," he said, "but many... are breathing a sigh of relief."
Jeremiah closed his eyes."That's enough," he
whispered.That night,
she cried again.
Not from
anguish.Relief.
I had understood something profound:
God doesn't always save us by taking us out of the valley.
Sometimes… it walks with us inside it.
Jeremiah looked towards Jerusalem, still standing, but doomed.
"They don't know it yet," he thought. "But they too will be exiled."
And yet… they would not lose God.
Because the God who writes letters in the midst of judgment
It is the same one that promises a future amidst the ruins.
Jeremiah understood that his ministry was not about avoiding pain…
but to give it meaning.
And as long as there was someone reading his words in a foreign land,I
would know that I had not spoken in vain.