Month: December 2025

Yearning for a home in a desolate place

eejoseph,

Oh that I had in the wilderness a travelers’ lodging; that I might leave my people, and go from them! for they are all adulterers, an assembly of treacherous people. (Jeremiah 9:2)

These words come from one of Yahweh’s prophets, a man wholly unlike those who call themselves prophets and peculiar ambassadors for God in the modern era. In fact, this expression – wanting a barebones shack in the desert – follows the prophet’s wish that his head was full of water and his eyes a fountain so he could weep to the max day and night.

Wishing for an exemplary life may appear as something other

Was Jeremiah’s all-day weeping wish a sign of his despair? Was he just associating his abhorrence of the pollution of his people with God’s? Was he exaggerating anguish at Israel’s evil and treachery? Some may see a suicidal resignation. Jeremiah is not alone in having a vision of himself living in a desert. Perhaps he is a man like John the Baptist, who in answer to the divine call, departed from his father’s house to live in the Judean desert. John’s leap of faith was massive: he left behind a calling in the priesthood to be Messiah’s herald.

Make my head a reservoir and my eyes a fountain

Prophetic people have been thought to be those versed in the unravelling of predictions, but surely prophetic life has to distinguish itself by a life in the here and now than it has to do with talking about what’s next. The ascetic life has tremendous appeal because it brings to light the difference between the married and profligate life of some people called patriarch, king, and prophet and the holiness on the other hand of the Sender of the prophets. I call to witness the Lord Yeshua spending nights alone in prayer and perfecting hs mission all alone on the tree. So let us not deny the sentiment: the wish to weep to the max and settle for a shack in the desert, even when we are surrounded by and know how to enjoy the company and support of sinful others.

 Honey Drop 51 — The Voice at Your Back

eejoseph,

“And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’” Isaiah 30:21

The scene

A traveler moves along a dusty path, the kind carved by generations of feet and hope. The sun is high, the air shimmering with heat. At a crossroads with no signposts, he pauses. The land is quiet — too quiet — until a whisper rises behind him, soft as a hand on the shoulder.

The certain – the unclear

There is the uncertainty of standing between paths, the fear of choosing wrong, the ache of silence when guidance feels overdue. Yet there is also the promise that God’s direction is not lost in the wind. He guides in intense privacy, resulting in ultimate confidence — the voice does not shout from the distance; it leans close enough to breathe clarity into confusion.

Lexical Note: The phrase “a word behind you” carries the sense of a voice that follows, not to chase but to steady. The speaker has been where you are. Also, the Hebrew verb for “walk” (לֵךְ, lekh) is imperative — not a suggestion but a commissioning. God doesn’t merely point; God sends.

lightning flash


A whisper at your back can turn a crossroads into a calling.

The drop

When you cannot see the way forward, listen behind you. God’s guidance often arrives like memory. gentle, persistent, and unmistakably near.

Honey Drop #50 — The Lamp You Stir Awake

eejoseph,

Psalm 18:28 — “You light my lamp; the Lord my God illumines my darkness.”

The scene

A lone traveler sits at the edge of dusk. The day’s heat is fading, and shadows stretch long across the red earth. A small clay lamp rests beside him — wick trimmed, oil ready, but unlit. He waits, not for the flame he can strike, but for the One who kindles from within.

The ache – the ahh

There is the ache of not seeing the next step, the quiet fear that the night might swallow the path. But there is also the steady truth: the darkness is not sovereign, and the lamp is not abandoned. The One who formed light from nothing still leans close.

Lexical Note יַגִּיהַּ
(yaggiha) suggests causing to gleam — God draws out radiance rather than replacing it. And נֵרִי
(neri, “my lamp”) is intimate: not a temple lamp, but the small personal flame of a traveler. God attends to the little light you carry.

The drop – you shine it

When your strength flickers, God does not hand you a match — God becomes the spark. Your lamp shines because You make it shine.

Flash of Lightning: A lamp in Your hands becomes a sunrise in mine.

Honey Drop 49: The Power in the Hollow

eejoseph,

“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9

The paradox Paul embraced

He asked for the thorn to leave. 
Three times. 
He was met with a no— 
and a greater yes.

Not relief. 
But rest. 
Not escape. 
But indwelling.

The weak – the powerful

Weakness is not patched. 
It is filled. 
It is not the flaw in the design. 
It is the dwelling place of power.

Christ does not hover above the ache. 
He rests upon it. 
He makes His home 
in the hollow.

The drop

Grace is not a crutch. 
It is the structure.

Power is not proven by strength. 
It is perfected in surrender.

And the boast is not in what we bear,  but in who bears us.

The thorn stayed. 
But so did Christ. 
And the hollow became holy.

Honey Drop 48: The Adorning God

eejoseph,

“For the Lord takes pleasure in His people; He adorns the humble with salvation.” — Psalm 149:4

The joy that clothes

This is not private mercy. 
It is shared delight. 
The Lord takes pleasure— 
not just in a person, 
but in a people.

And He does not just save. 
He adorns.

The loincloth- the robe

The humble do not clamor.  

They bow.  

They do not dress themselves in strength.  

They wait to be clothed.

And God—  

He wraps them in salvation.  

Not as armor.  

But as beauty.

The drop

This is not pity.  

It is pleasure.

Not survival.  

But splendor.

The Lord rejoices in the lowly.  

And He makes them radiant  

with His own rescue.

 The proud wear achievement.  
 The humble wear grace.  
And the Lord calls it beautiful.

Honey Drop 47: The Many and the One

eejoseph,

“Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all.” — Psalm 34:19

The ache in the plural

The righteous are not spared. 
They are surrounded. 
Afflictions— 
not one, 
but many.

Pain is not the exception. 
It is the path. 
And the psalm does not flinch.

Affliction – relief

But the Lord— 
He delivers.

Not once. 
Not sometimes. 
But out of them all.

The verb is imperfect. 
The rescue is ongoing. 
The ache is plural. 
But the Deliverer is faithful.

The drop

Suffering does not disprove righteousness. 
It reveals the Rescuer.

The righteous are not immune. 
They are remembered. 
They are not untouched. 
They are upheld.

And the Lord does not lose count.

The afflictions are many. 
But the Deliverer is one.  
And He is not done.

Honey Drop 46: The Nearness That Saves

eejoseph,

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

The ache that attracts Him

The heart is broken. 
The spirit is crushed. 
And God— 
God draws near.

Not to fix first. 
Not to explain. 
But to be present.

The prison – the open door

This is not escape. 
It is proximity. 
Not the absence of pain, 
but the presence of mercy 
within it.

He does not wait for healing 
to arrive. 
He arrives 
in the wound.

The drop

God’s nearness is not a reward. 
It is a rescue. 
A presence that holds 
before it lifts.

He saves the crushed— 
not by avoiding the weight, 
but by entering it.

The broken heart is not abandoned. 
It is where He lingers longest. 
And calls it holy ground.