Instead of wearing seductive scents, these women are going to smell like rotting cabbages; Instead of modeling flowing gowns, they’ll be sporting rags; Instead of their stylish hairdos, scruffy heads; Instead of beauty marks, scabs and scars.

Then God will bring back the ancient pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night and mark Mount Zion and everyone in it with his glorious presence, his immense, protective presence, shade from the burning sun and shelter from the driving rain.

Doom to you who use lies to sell evil, who haul sin to market by the truckload, Who say, “What’s God waiting for? Let him get a move on so we can see it. Whatever The Holy of Israel has cooked up, we’d like to check it out.”

Nothing Left Here to Be Proud Of

Visit Tarshish, you who live on the seacoast. Take a good, long look and wail—yes, cry buckets of tears! Is this the city you remember as energetic and alive, bustling with activity, this historic old city, Expanding throughout the globe, buying and selling all over the world? And who is behind the collapse of Tyre, the Tyre that controlled the world markets? Tyre’s merchants were the business tycoons. Tyre’s traders called all the shots. God-of-the-Angel-Armies ordered the crash to show the sordid backside of pride and puncture the inflated reputations. Sail for home, O ships of Tarshish. There are no docks left in this harbor. God reached out to the sea and sea traders, threw the sea kingdoms into turmoil. God ordered the destruction of the seacoast cities, the centers of commerce. God said, “There’s nothing left here to be proud of, bankrupt and bereft Sidon. Do you want to make a new start in Cyprus? Don’t count on it. Nothing there will work out for you either.”

Then Hezekiah prayed to God: “God-of-the-Angel-Armies, enthroned over the cherubim-angels, you are God, the only God there is, God of all kingdoms on earth. You made heaven and earth. Listen, O God, and hear. Look, O God, and see. Mark all these words of Sennacherib that he sent to mock the living God. It’s quite true, O God, that the kings of Assyria have devastated all the nations and their lands. They’ve thrown their gods into the trash and burned them—no great achievement since they were no-gods anyway, gods made in workshops, carved from wood and chiseled from rock. An end to the no-gods! But now step in, O God, our God. Save us from him. Let all the kingdoms of earth know that you and you alone are God.” * * *