The silence in the house was absolute.
Jeremiah sat by the small window where the light of the setting sun streamed in.
Outside, life went on as usual: laughter, conversations, footstepsThey were in a
hurry. Inside, everything was still.
Too still.
Days had passed since her last confrontation with the false prophets. The tension
still hung in the air, but that afternoon the weight she felt didn't come from
outside.
It came from within.
The Lord spoke to him directly.
—You shall not take a wife.
You will not have children in this place.
The words didn't arrive like thunder, but like a
sentence.Jeremiah closed his eyes.
He did not respond immediately.
"Nothing else?" he finally asked, in a low voice. "Is that all?"
Silence answered.
There was no long explanation.
There was no consolation in
advance.Obedience only.
Jeremiah leaned his forehead against the wall.
"You know what you're asking of me," he whispered. "You know how much I long not
to be alone."He remembered faces. Smiles. Imagined moments that would never come to pass.
He thought of a shared table. Of children running through a yard. Of someone
waiting for him atend of the day.
All of that... was denied to him.
"Why?" he asked. "Why this too?" The answer was
slow, but firm.
—Because the children born on this land will
die.Because the wives will become widows.
Because judgment is
near.Jeremiah swallowed.
"And me?" he asked. "What is my place in all this?"
The answer pierced him.
—You will be a sign.
Your life will speak even when you are
silent. Jeremiah got up and walked around
the room.
"You didn't ask this of the other prophets," he said. "They have homes, families,
laughter." Silence remained.
"I wanted a normal life too," he confessed. "I didn't ask to be
different."The tears came without permission.
—Aren't the beatings enough?
With mockery?
With the loneliness of
rejection? He sat on the
floor, exhausted.
—Now you're taking this away from me too.
The fire was burning... but not like before.
Now it hurt.
Days passed.Jeremiah began to notice things he had previously ignored.
He saw weddings.
He listened to songs. He
observed families
gathered together.
And every scene was an open
wound.Some looked at him with
curiosity.
—Why don't you get married?
"What kind of man lives alone like that?"
Others mocked.
—Not even a woman wants
him.Jeremiah did not answer.
I knew the truth…
But I didn't say it.
One afternoon, he was invited to a funeral. A young man had died suddenly.
The house was filled with weeping. Jeremiah approached… and then he heard the
voice of the Lord.
—Don't go in.
Don't cry with
them. Don't
grieve.
Jeremiah stopped dead in his tracks.
"Not even that?" he asked. "Can't I share the pain either?"
"No," the voice replied. "Because I will withdraw my peace from
this people."Jeremiah walked away.
Some looked at him with indignation.
—What a hard heart!
—He didn't even stop to offer comfort.
But Jeremiah walked with his fists clenched, holding back a scream.
"My life is no longer my own," she thought. "Not even my tears belong to me."That night, he spoke to God like never before.
"I am empty," he said. "I obeyed... but I am empty."
The silence was profound.
Then, a different response.
—I will be your portion.
Jeremiah raised his head.
—When others celebrate weddings—the voice continued—, I will be with
you. When others raise children, I will hold your soul.
When others lean on their families, I will be your
refuge.Jeremiah took a deep breath.
It wasn't what I had dreamed of…
But it was real.
Days later, people began to notice something
strange.Jeremiah did not participate in
celebrations.
She didn't go to parties.
She didn't cry at funerals.
"What's wrong with you?" they asked him. "Why do you
live like this?" And then Jeremiah spoke.
—Because this land is heading towards silence—he
said. —Because days will come without song,
without weddings, without laughter.
Some shuddered.
"My life," he continued, "is a warning."
That night, Jeremiah sat alone, gazing at the stars.
"I'll never have a son who calls me father," he
thought. "I'll never have a wife who speaks my
name."
He felt the full weight of that truth.But
he also felt something more.It was not abandoned.
There was a purpose even in his solitude.
"If my life can help others understand," she whispered, "then I'll give it
up."The wind blew gently.
Jeremiah closed his eyes.
There was no joy…
But there was peace.
And he understood something that few understand:
Some callings don't take things away because God is
cruel, but because the mission is too big
for a divided life.
Jeremiah would have no
family.
But she would carry an entire nation in her heart.
AND I would cry byshe…
until the end.