Inspired by Jeremiah chapter 3:6 to chapter 4:31
Hi everyone, by reading chapters 3 and 4 of Jeremiah (link), I am certain this podcast story will be that much more meaningful for all the family, parents and children to see the depth and value of God’s word. Here we go, listen to the podcast for sound effects and a little more drama :)
HOME SWEET HOME
Once upon a time there were two sisters. Their names have ancient roots, you might even recognize them. And as you feel the ache in their father’s heart - remember that the same ache still echoes today.
He stood watching - strong, steady, with laugh lines carved by joy and eyes that had weathered sorrow. His two daughters played in the garden below the porch, laughing, giggling, swinging eachother round before finally resting in the shade of mustard tree.
The younger’s name was Izra, full of fire and energy. The elder - Judahna, with her quiet manners and calculating mind.
They grew up in the same house. Same father. Same love. Same warmth from the fireplace. The same songs sung through the day, and whispered prayers at night. Same stories passed down by candlelight.
Stories of how their great-great-grandparents had walked deserts, crossed seas, followed pillars of cloud and fire … just to be with the One who loved them.
Their father loved them more than life.
Izra (Israel) was the first to drift. At first, it was harmless. Well, at least that’s what she told herself. A new friend. A new type of music. A charm bracelet from a traveling merchant.
Izra said it made her feel alive — like she was on a journey of discovery. Her own discoveries.
Her father saw the signs: the new friends who whispered, “Why listen to the old ways?” The locked bedroom door. The stories she loved to hear yet now she stopped asking about them.
He warned her gently: “Izra, my beloved. Stay close. You might feel like you will be valued beyond these walls. Trying to look like others will only bring you to be less like yourself. I love you, and I see you shining like a star as you grow into all God has for you.”
But Izra rolled her eyes. She thought to herself. “Everyone else is going out and doing it, so why should I be stuck in this little house?” (The house was not that little, but it made her feel better to think that way).
Then one day… she was gone. No goodbye. No note. Just the empty silence of her absence.
She had gone after the world, lured by the fragmented yet glittering promises of foreign lands.
And the world welcomed her … for a time. But it wasn’t long before the bracelets became shackles. The music became noise. And the friends?
They sold her. She was taken by a foreign tribe - not just far from home, but far from the things she now realised, she valued most.
She became a slave in a place that spoke of love, but knew it not. Where kindness was for stories, not for real life.
It was the kind of captivity that swallows you whole, and the only thing left is a faint glimmer of hope. Ivra would think of her Fathers voice, she longed to hear it once more.
She longer for his words, his embrace, to be called by her name again.
Her father wept for days. He stood at the edge of the village each morning — watching, waiting, whispering her name.
Days, years passed. He never gave up hope.
Judahna - the older sister - had seen it all. She saw the posters go up with Izra’s face. Given to passing merchants in the hope that they could give clue to her whereabouts. She heard the gossip in the town square.
Most of all, she watched her father’s shoulders sag under the weight of sorrow. She heard his prayers outside her door:
“Let her come home. Let her come to her senses, and find her home again …”
But over time, something strange happened.
Rather than appreciate what she had. Her walks with her dad in the cool of the morning. Her friends, her school and the wealth of opportunities around her.
Judahna grew cold.
She stayed in the house, yes - she went to gatherings, repeated the right words… but her heart had quietly left. She began her own little escapes.
Secret texts. Midnight walks with carefully hidden compromises.
She thought: “I won’t be foolish like Izra. I’ll have the best of both worlds. Taste the world and keep my reputation at home in tact.”
Ofcourse, her father saw.
And when he tried to reach her, she brushed him off.
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not like her. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
The tears in his eyes spoke more than the words, her lips said “I’m here” but her heart was in a distant land.
Juhadna saw that day that her Father’s tears fell for both his daughters.
Jeremiah told this story. To show God’s heart to Israel who had already been taken into captivity; and to Judah who was on a more dangerous path.
“Faithless Israel is less guilty than unfaithful Judah… Return, faithless daughter, for I am merciful. I will not be angry forever.”
To Judah, He pleaded:
“Wash your heart from evil, O daughter, that you may be saved!
How long will your wicked thoughts lodge within you?”
God’s voice stirred like fire in Jeremiah’s bones. He began to see a Father whose love was fierce. Which good Father would withhold correction to his child when needed?
He cried out all the more, hoping that the people of Judah might heed the words:
“How long will I see the standard, and hear the sound of the tumpet?”
Yet Jeremiah saw a wound so deep that outward ways could do nothing but hide it. Later he would find the cure. But for now he could only weep:
“Your ways and your doings have procured these things for you. This is your wickedness, because it is bitter, because it reached to your heart.”
We leave this story on a sad note, where the tears of a boy prophet flow from the heart of a loving God. A God who wants to forgive, wants His children to come back home, and promises that even though Jerusalem would be ruined and desolate.
It is not the end.
The story goes on. A Home still waits for her children.
A few small questions to help you and your family reflect:
What was the name of the Prophet who spoke this message?
Have you ever broken a bone, or had a really bad injury?
Would a little plaster or bandage be enough to heal that broken bone?
As you think of these answers with your family, I look forward to seeing you next time. With Jeremiah, we will discover that there is only One Doctor who can heal Judah’s deep wounds.
Stay tuned, see you next time.
To be continued
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Coffee shops is where a lot of this writing and creating happens! This button is akin to a tip-jar to show your appreciation. Feel like I am going back to my busking days.
I look forward to seeing you next time. The image below is the cover image for a song I wrote, inspired by Jeremiah. Check it out HERE :)
Inspire your day with Bible Based Stories !!!
And if you made it this far please feel free to contact me and we can connect !!
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