Isaiah 18 Isaiah 18 reveals a kind of patience that is almost unsettling. God is not rushing. He is not reacting. He is watching silently . His stillness is not absence — it is restraint. The chapter describes His anger like the rising heat of the summer sun . Even early in the morning, the sun already carries heat. It hasn’t burned yet, but it promises that it will. In the same way, God’s patience holds intensity beneath the surface. He sees everything. He knows where it is headed. And still, He waits. There is also a striking image of morning dew during harvest . Dew may look gentle, refreshing, even beautiful — but for crops ready to be stored, it is dangerous. Wet harvest leads to mold, decay, and loss. What should have been preserved becomes unusable. Although Isaiah 18 speaks about nations both far and near, the way God deals with them here is strikingly different. This time, He doesn’t send armies. He doesn’t call for war. Instead, He comes close . God u...
“Look—the city of Damascus will disappear.” Just imagine waking up and finding an entire city like New York suddenly desolate. No people… no markets… no sound. Dreams erased. Lives interrupted. Generations swallowed in silence. This kind of destruction doesn’t happen in one day— it is the slow buildup of disobedience, pride, and a heart that refuses to return to God. Judgment is not sudden… but the result of warnings ignored. But what makes Isaiah 17 different is this: God speaks about Israel’s destruction differently from Moab’s. Moab was far from God, lost in pagan worship. But Israel— they were His own children . The nation He carried, loved, rescued, and cherished. And even when He disciplines His people, He still speaks tenderness: “In the evening Israel waits in terror, but by dawn their enemies are dead.” (Isaiah 17:14) That is the heart of a Father. Firm in correction… Yet fierce in protection. Israel strayed by creating idols with their own hands. They worshiped what G...