Jeremiah 4:11-12, 19-21

At that time, this people, yes, this very Jerusalem, will be told in plain words: “The northern hordes are sweeping in from the desert steppes— A wind that’s up to no good, a gale-force wind. I ordered this wind. I’m pronouncing my hurricane judgment on my people.”

I’m doubled up with cramps in my belly— a poker burns in my gut. My insides are tearing me up, never a moment’s peace. The ram’s horn trumpet blast rings in my ears, the signal for all-out war. Disaster hard on the heels of disaster, the whole country in ruins! In one stroke my home is destroyed, the walls flattened in the blink of an eye. How long do I have to look at the warning flares, listen to the siren of danger?