Sounds like a great idea so far right, but the thing is that that the Babylonians are camped out right next door, and Jeremiah (who is after all a prophet) knows that Israel is about to be cast out from the land into exile. This real estate transaction is sounding less and less tempting, but Jeremiah bought the land anyway as a sign that although Israel would go through an especially awful period in their history, they would yet be redeemed and restored to the land.
Jeremiah 32:15 reads "For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Houses and fields and vineyards shall again be bought on this land" Through Jeremiah's sign-act, God was making a promise of restoration.
The thing about promises, however, is that you're very often obliged to keep them. Especially if they're promises you've made to your wife.
In the first two weeks of Emily's illness I found myself promising a lot of things. I promised I'd be back at a certain time to visit. I promised I'd take care of certain things. To be honest, I guess things just felt so our of control for both of us that I was trying to give us little footholds to keep us from completely falling off the deep end.
One of the things I promised was that I would finally break down and take ballroom dancing lessons with Emily when she gets better. I promised this, of course, because I wanted Emily to be able to imagine that she would be restored to wholeness, and that she would be able to dance again. (Note to you dear reader: Emily likes to dance. She dances around the house all the time. I, on the other hand do not, nor have I ever, had any serious intention of dancing.)
Of all the promises I made it looks like she's going to hold me to that one. Hmmm....
As much as I hate the idea of waltzing I'll be glad to see that day come. Each day she improves a little and we see signs of the promise of restoration. Yesterday was an especially good day. She was off of the ventilator for 6 and a half hours. Given her new freedom, she was also able to get out of the room for a bit as the physical therapists wheeled her over to the rehab room for therapy and a bit of fun. The therapists have been thinking up fun things to do with her hands, like finger painting and stamping, that are also therapeutic.
She also read with her Kindle for a long while, following the text with her eyes as best she could while listening as it read to her. We talked and laughed, and watched American Idol. All in all, it was a pretty great day.
Oh, and I nearly forgot to mention that she was able to say a few short words with the help of a speaking valve on her trach.
The promises of restoration are indeed a welcome change.
