To you we are all like our ancestors— foreigners without permanent homes. Our days are as fleeting as shadows on the ground. There’s no hope ⌞for them⌟.
Listen to my prayer, O Lord. Open your ear to my cry for help. Do not be deaf to my tears, for I am a foreign resident with you, a stranger like all my ancestors.
This is what the Almighty Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: You can be saved by returning to me. You can have rest. You can be strong by being quiet and by trusting me. But you don’t want that.
We know that if the life we live here on earth is ever taken down like a tent, we still have a building from God. It is an eternal house in heaven that isn’t made by human hands.
All these people died having faith. They didn’t receive the things that God had promised them, but they saw these things coming in the distant future and rejoiced. They acknowledged that they were living as strangers with no permanent home on earth.
I appeal to your spiritual leaders. I make this appeal as a spiritual leader who also witnessed Christ’s sufferings and will share in the glory that will be revealed.
I am John, your brother. I share your suffering, ruling, and endurance because of Jesus. I was ⌞exiled⌟ on the island of Patmos because of God’s word and the testimony about Jesus.