Jeremiah 10:19–25

Woe is me because of my hurt!

My wound is grievous.

But I said, “Truly this is an affliction,

and I must bear it.”

My tent is destroyed,

and all my cords are broken;

my children have gone from me,

and they are not;

there is no one to spread my tent again

and to set up my curtains.

For the shepherds are stupid

and do not inquire of the Lord;

therefore they have not prospered,

and all their flock is scattered.

A voice, a rumor! Behold, it comes!—

a great commotion out of the north country

to make the cities of Judah a desolation,

a lair of jackals.

I know, O Lord, that the way of man is not in himself,

that it is not in man who walks to direct his steps.

Correct me, O Lord, but in justice;

not in your anger, lest you bring me to nothing.

Pour out your wrath on the nations that know you not,

and on the peoples that call not on your name,

for they have devoured Jacob;

they have devoured him and consumed him,

and have laid waste his habitation.

Woe to me because of my injury!

My wound is incurable!

Yet I said to myself,

“This is my sickness, and I must endure it.”

My tent is destroyed;

all its ropes are snapped.

My children are gone from me and are no more;

no one is left now to pitch my tent

or to set up my shelter.

The shepherds are senseless

and do not inquire of the Lord;

so they do not prosper

and all their flock is scattered.

Listen! The report is coming—

a great commotion from the land of the north!

It will make the towns of Judah desolate,

a haunt of jackals.

Lord, I know that people’s lives are not their own;

it is not for them to direct their steps.

Discipline me, Lord, but only in due measure—

not in your anger,

or you will reduce me to nothing.

Pour out your wrath on the nations

that do not acknowledge you,

on the peoples who do not call on your name.

For they have devoured Jacob;

they have devoured him completely

and destroyed his homeland.

Woe to me because of my brokenness—

I am severely wounded!

I exclaimed, “This is my intense suffering,

but I must bear it.”

My tent is destroyed;

all my tent cords are snapped.

My sons have departed from me and are no more.

I have no one to pitch my tent again

or to hang up my curtains.

For the shepherds are stupid:

They don’t seek the Lord.

Therefore they have not prospered,

and their whole flock is scattered.

Listen! A noise—it is coming—

a great commotion from the land to the north.

The cities of Judah will be made desolate,

a jackals’ den.

I know, Lord,

that a person’s way of life is not his own;

no one who walks determines his own steps.

Discipline me, Lord, but with justice—

not in your anger,

or you will reduce me to nothing.

Pour out your wrath on the nations

that don’t recognize you

and on the families

that don’t call on your name,

for they have consumed Jacob;

they have consumed him and finished him off

and made his homeland desolate.

My wound is severe,

and my grief is great.

My sickness is incurable,

but I must bear it.

My home is gone,

and no one is left to help me rebuild it.

My children have been taken away,

and I will never see them again.

The shepherds of my people have lost their senses.

They no longer seek wisdom from the Lord.

Therefore, they fail completely,

and their flocks are scattered.

Listen! Hear the terrifying roar of great armies

as they roll down from the north.

The towns of Judah will be destroyed

and become a haunt for jackals.

I know, Lord, that our lives are not our own.

We are not able to plan our own course.

So correct me, Lord, but please be gentle.

Do not correct me in anger, for I would die.

Pour out your wrath on the nations that refuse to acknowledge you—

on the peoples that do not call upon your name.

For they have devoured your people Israel;

they have devoured and consumed them,

making the land a desolate wilderness.

Woe to me, because of my wound.

My wound is incurable.

But I said, “Surely this is my sickness,

and I must bear it.”

My tent is devastated,

and all my tent cords are torn.

My children have gone out from me,

and they are not.

There is no one who pitches my tent again,

or one who puts up my tent curtains.

For the shepherds have become stupid,

they do not seek Yahweh.

Therefore they do not have insight,

and all of their flock are scattered.

Listen, news:

Look, it is coming,

a great roar from the land of the north,

to make the cities of Judah a desolation,

a lair of jackals.

I know, O Yahweh, that to the human is not his own way,

nor to a person is the walking and the directing of his own step.

Chastise me, O Yahweh, but in moderation,

not in your anger, lest you eradicate me.

Pour out your wrath on the nations that do not know you,

and on the peoples that do not call on your name,

for they have devoured Jacob,

they have devoured and consumed him,

and they have caused his settlement to be desolate.

Woe is me for my hurt! my wound is grievous:

But I said, Truly this is a grief, and I must bear it.

My tabernacle is spoiled, and all my cords are broken:

My children are gone forth of me, and they are not:

There is none to stretch forth my tent any more,

And to set up my curtains.

For the pastors are become brutish,

And have not sought the Lord:

Therefore they shall not prosper,

And all their flocks shall be scattered.

Behold, the noise of the bruit is come,

And a great commotion out of the north country,

To make the cities of Judah desolate,

And a den of dragons.

O Lord, I know that the way of man is not in himself:

It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.

O Lord, correct me, but with judgment;

Not in thine anger, lest thou bring me to nothing.

Pour out thy fury upon the heathen that know thee not,

And upon the families that call not on thy name:

For they have eaten up Jacob, and devoured him, and consumed him,

And have made his habitation desolate.