My dear people, it’s time to mourn. Put on sackcloth and sprinkle ashes on yourselves. Mourn as you would for an only child. Wail bitterly, for suddenly the destroyer will be upon us.
In that day, the Lord Yahweh, Commander of Angel Armies, called you to repent with weeping and mourning and to show your remorse by shaving your heads and wearing sackcloth.
You’ll have no option but to cringe among the captives or fall among the corpses of the slain! Yet despite all this, his anger has not subsided, and his hand is poised to strike.
For this reason Yahweh’s anger burned against his people, and he struck them down with his holy hand! The mountains trembled, and dead bodies were littered like garbage left in the streets. Even with this, his anger has not turned away and still his hand is heavy upon them!
Shout and wail, son of man, for the sword will come against my people, and all the leaders of Israel. They are thrown to the sword like the rest of my people. So beat your breast in anguish,
Manasseh devoured Ephraim, and Ephraim Manasseh, and together they turned against Judah. Yet despite all this, the Lord’s anger has not subsided, and his hand is poised to strike them again.
That is why the Lord did not show pity to the young people or have compassion on their orphans and widows. For everyone was godless and did evil and each mouth spewed out wickedness. Therefore, the Lord’s anger has not subsided, and his hand is poised to strike them again.
Syrians on the east, Philistines on the west—they came with bared teeth and devoured Israel. Yet despite all this, his anger did not subside, and his hand of judgment is poised to strike them again.
Finally, he unleashed upon them the fierceness of his anger. Such fury! He sent them sorrow and devastating trouble by his mighty band of destroying angels; messengers of death were dispatched against them.
“None who passes by even cares. Turn around and look at me! Is there anyone who suffers as much as I? Yahweh, in the terrible day of your fierce anger, you punished me worst of all.
Howl, you shepherds, wail in sorrow, and roll on the ground, you leaders of the flock, for your day has come to be slaughtered like sheep. You will fall and be scattered, like pieces of broken pottery.