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The Grief of a Jealous Husban
by Kimberly Miller
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What do I see? What do I see when I look at humanity?
What do I feel? What do I feel when I look down and see their injustices, immorality, perversion, and murder?
How do I respond when the ones I love and betrothed Myself to spit in My face and walk away, leaving Me for other lovers who with their decadent pleasures lure them astray to lie down on every high hill and under every green tree?
Am I unconcerned? Am I unaware? Am I deaf to hear and dull to act? Blind to see and content to agree with their wicked deeds done in sheer blasphemy?
How do I feel son of man when I see humanity?

Do you know I see all things? Not one deed done is ever hidden from My sight. Not one word spoken is ever not heard before My thrown. Not one sin ever goes unpunished. Not one injustice ever not condemned. Not one righteous and merciful act ever not rewarded. I am the God who sees all things.

I see the abuse: fathers raping their daughters in dark bedrooms, mothers emotionally tearing their sons to shreds, fists repeatedly meeting innocent faces as parents beat their children in drunken rages. I see these things. And I care. I ache.
I see. I see all things.
I feel. I feel grieved.
I weep, many agonizing tears.
I drown beneath the weight of the pain of My broken children.
And I am not unaware. I care. I always care.

I am a God who weeps. I weep tears the size of tsunamis. The oceans are My buckets, at times overflowing onto the shores of man's exalted cities, destroying their shrines and high places in an attempt to cause them to turn their hearts to repent of their pride and idolatry. But they shake their fists in rage and turn their backs to My face.
I am a God who trembles. I tremble with the roaring rage of an earthquake at the unfaithfulness of men who have broken their marriage vows. They've divorced Me to feed upon the love of the gods of this world who bring only death and sorrow. My love does no harm but offers immortality and life.
I shake, splitting the ground, swallowing up nations, kingdoms, and cities in a moment. My jealousy is a husbandís fury, as vehement as the flame and as cruel as the grave. I quake with pain over mans unfaithfulness.
I am a God who roars. I roar with the strength of a devastating tornado. My voice shakes the mighty oaks, ripping them up by their roots, tossing them to the side as weeds in an unkempt garden. At My shout a city is removed. At the blast of the breath of My nostrils all that hinders love is torn down and cast away, leaving behind a land desolate and bear, a dry and thirsty wilderness lacking rain.
My anger is hot, ready to erupt like a volcano. It's deadly silent, patient for many years in hope that man would cease from their adulteries and return to their first husband. But My patience has reached its end and My jealous love fumes to eruption, devouring in a fury that which defiles My covenant, My marriage bed, My bride. I am hot with rage.
My thunder crashes. My lightning flashes forth from one side of the heavens to the other. Men look but do not fear the One who directs its path, nor do they bow their heads as they mock the One who holds their breath in His hands.
They do not see that they are but ants before the eyes of the Holy One. One of billions, squash one and millions more take its place, no one remembers its glory as it was here yesterday and gone today. But these insolent men continue to lift up their heads and degrade My name to their shame. Their judgment will no longer wait.

I am a God who sees. I am a God who knows. I desire that all would be saved and come to repentance so that none might perish. But this will not be the case. Many will be saved, but many more will perish. How I take no delight in the death of the wicked; how I love the ones I created for My glory, each one unique and special, chosen to bear My name and reign with Me in righteousness.
But men love their own ways, not Mine, and choose to serve the creature rather than the Creator. Men go astray and inherit death as their legacy. How I desire My children to live. How I desire them to choose Me. But men have their own will, and I am in none of their thoughts. They forget Me and no longer seek My face.

I am a Lover with a gift in My hand. All one needs to do is ask and it will be given: true joy, hope, love, prosperity, life, and glory. But it is not sought; it is not desired; it is not received, for men choose rather the glories of the momentary pleasures of this world.

And I grieve. I never cease. Streams of tears like rivers flow from My eyes never dammed, never stilled, always falling as men reject Me. How I weep. Drops of rain falling from the heavens, the dark night of My soul engulfing Me as I watch in agony as another child chooses their fate, and in My love I engulf them in the flames of Hades that are the wage of their sin and iniquity.
But yet, I ache. For I am a God in love with man, with a humanity who does not yet love Me. I hope and wait with expectancy that they one day will, for I have been waiting quite a time, before the foundations of the world began, for a bride to be presented to Me spotless and white. How I desire that I would not loose even one soul. I desire all to be with Me in paradise, wed to Me by My side, united in love, one in Christ. And My beloved ones, for this I surely died.
I am in love. My jealousy devours. My grief is enormous. My patience soon to be ended. I love man. I ache to be loved by them in return. And for this I wait.


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