Toward the end of the ninth year of exile, God told me to write down that day’s date and show everyone because it was the date that the siege of Jerusalem started. And while I announced this I was sing them a song about how Jerusalem was a cooking pot full of good meat, left on the fire so long that even the pot would burn.
Shortly thereafter, my wife died. But God commanded me not to go into mourning. I wasn’t even allowed to cry. It said, “When people ask you why you aren’t mourning, tell them that you are a sign for how they should act when they hear that the Temple is destroyed. After this, you won’t be able to speak again until a messenger comes with the news that Jerusalem has fallen.”