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Micah 1:16

Tree of Life Version

Shave yourself bald, yes shear your hair for the children of your delight. Enlarge your bald spot like a vulture, for they went from you into exile.

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18 Cross References  

In the ninth year of Hoshea, the king of Assyria captured Samaria and deported the Israelites to Assyria. He placed them in Halah and Habor, on the Gozan River, and in the towns of the Medes.

Then Job got up, tore his robe, shaved his head, fell to the ground and worshiped.

He has gone up to the shrine, to Dibon, to the high places to weep. Moab wails over Nebo and Medeba. Every head is bald, every beard shaven.

Now in that day, Adonai Elohei-Tzva’ot will call for weeping and wailing, for baldness and putting on sackcloth.

Both great and small will die in this land; they will not be buried; neither will anyone lament for them, or cut themselves or shave his head for them.

Therefore, put on sackcloth— lament and wail! For the fierce anger of Adonai has not turned away from us.”

Baldness has come upon Gaza, Ashkelon is ruined. O remnant of their valley, how long will you gash yourself?

“Daughter of My people, put on sackcloth and roll in ashes. Mourn as for an only son with bitter lamentation.” “For suddenly the destroyer will come on us!”

Cut off your hair and throw it away and take up a lamentation on the barren hills. For Adonai has spurned and cast off the generation of His wrath.”

Arise! Cry out in the night at the beginning of the watches! Pour out your heart like water before the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to Him for the life of your children who faint from hunger at the head of every street.

For this is what Amos has said: ‘Jeroboam will die by the sword, and Israel will surely go captive from his land.’”

Therefore, this is what Adonai says: ‘Your wife shall become a prostitute in the city, your sons and your daughters will fall by the sword, and your land divided up by a measuring line. Now, as for you— you will die in an unclean land, and Israel will surely be led away captive out of its land.’”

I will turn your festivals into mourning and all your songs into a dirge. I will pull up sackcloth on every waist and baldness on every head. I will make it like the mourning for an only son— its end a bitter day.”

Sons and daughters you will father—but they will not be yours, for they will go into captivity.




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