The deepest pain doesn't always come from blows.
Sometimes it comes from glances you no longer recognize, from voices that were
once home and now sound like judgment. Jeremiah would soon discover this, in the
cruellest way.
Anatot was no longer the same place.Or perhaps it had always been this way, and Jeremiah was only just beginning to see it
clearly.
As he walked through its narrow streets, he noticed how conversations stopped as
he passed. Doors closed too hastily. Some neighbors crossed to the other side of
the road to avoid him. Others watched him with a mixture of fear and reproach.
"There he goes," they whispered. "The one who brings trouble."
Jeremiah walked with his head held high, but his heart was weary. Jerusalem had
rejected him, yes, but he had expected that. What he hadn't expected was to feel
the same rejection in Jerusalem.the place he called home.
One afternoon, while helping her father with simple chores, she heard voices in the
front yard. She recognized the tones. Older men from the village. Priests. Relatives.
"We need to talk," one of them said, seeing him
leave.Jeremiah felt a knot in his stomach.
—Tell me.
The men exchanged glances. There was no open anger on their faces, but
somethingcolder: determination.
"What you're doing is putting us in danger," the major said. "Jerusalem is talking
about you."
When Jerusalem speaks… the consequences follow.
"I didn't seek this out," Jeremiah replied. "I only say what God gives me."
"That's precisely the problem!" another replied. "Nobody asked you to speak."Nobody
authorized you.
Jeremiah clenched his fists.
—God yes.
An uncomfortable murmur ran through the group.
"Listen, boy," said one in a softer voice. "You still have time. Stop talking. Live
peacefully. Don't destroy your family over dangerous ideas."
Those words pierced him more than any insult.
"Ideas?" he repeated. "Do you call what God says 'ideas'?""Call it what you want," the man replied. "But if you continue, someone will get
hurt."
The threat was no longer veiled.
Jeremiah looked at them one by one. Familiar faces. People who had seen him grow
Thathad eaten at home.
"Are you asking me to disobey God... so that you can be comfortable?" he asked,
his voice breaking.
No one answered.
Silence was the response.
That night, Jeremiah locked himself in his room. For the first time since his
calling,She wished she hadn't heard that voice in the field. She wished she could be
like everyone else.
Invisible.No rmal .
"Was it worth it?" she asked aloud. "Was this pain really worth it?" The tears
came without warning.
"Obeying you is taking everything from me," he confessed. "My peace. My
name. My home." He slammed his fist against the wall.
—They don't even listen to me!
Silence answered… but this time it wasn't cold.
It was close.
"Do you think I didn't know?" he seemed to be
saying. "Do you think I called you without
knowing the price?"
Jeremiah collapsed to the ground, exhausted.
The next day, the wound became deeper.
As he walked near the fields, he heard laughter. A group of young people were
pointing at him.
"There's the prophet of doom!" one of them shouted. "What are you announcing
today? That the sky will fall?"The taunts were sharp, but Jeremiah kept walking. Then he heard something worse.
—My father says that if he keeps talking, someone should shut him up for
good.Jeremiah stopped dead in his tracks.
He turned slowly.
The young people fell silent upon seeing his expression.
"Did he say that?" he asked in a low
voice. No one answered.
Jeremiah realized something terrifying: the rejection was growing. And with it, the
danger.
That afternoon, he sat alone under a tree, far from the village. The wind moved the
leaves gently, indifferent to his inner torment.
"Cursed be the day I was born..." he whispered. "Why did I come out of the
womb only to see pain and suffering?"
It was the prayer of a broken man.
"You've made me a quarrelsome man," he continued. "I haven't taken out loans, I
haven't stolen, and yet everyone curses me."
Her voice broke.
—If this is obedience… it hurts too much.
For a moment, she thought about remaining silent. Letting the fire die down. Living in
silence.even if it was wasting away from the inside.
But as soon as that idea crossed his mind, the fire burned even
brighter.Not as punishment.
As a reminder.
That night, something changed.
Jeremiah understood that obedience doesn't always bring immediate reward. That
being faithful doesn't guarantee understanding. That loving the truth can make you
an enemy ofthose you love.
But he also understood this:If he were to abandon his calling now, he would not only betray his calling…
He would be betraying himself.
At dawn, she awoke with red eyes but a resolute spirit. The pain lingered.There. He
hadn't left. But his decision no longer governed him.
"I will speak," she said. "Even if it costs me
everything." And she didn't know how
literal that promise would be.
Because in the darkness, far from their ears, some men were already whispering
plans. Plans that would turn rejection into conspiracy.