A poem in my mystery prayer language translated from Yoruba to English 3/19/2020:
Ask me a favor and send you a comment.
Slow down and recover.
Please don’t give up on me.
I’m ready to go.
I’m late in the night.
Follow me.
Do you think you can make your own figs?
We can find and seek knowledge.
Refresh your heart.
Open my lips to a friend.
I want to get it right.
We want to make you healthy.
What a great work that is for me.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
2 Kings 20:
7 Then Isaiah said, “Take a lump of figs.” So they took and laid it on the boil, and he recovered.
Revelation 22:
2 In the middle of its street, and on either side of the river, was the tree of life, which bore twelve fruits, each tree yielding its fruit every month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
Proverbs 27:
18 Whoever keeps the fig tree will eat its fruit;
So he who waits on his master will be honored.
Song of Solomon 2:
13 The fig tree puts forth her green figs,
And the vines with the tender grapes
Give a good smell.
Rise up, my love, my fair one,
And come away!
Mark 11:
21 And Peter, remembering, said to Him, “Rabbi, look! The fig tree which You cursed has withered away.”
Luke 19:
40 But He answered and said to them, “I tell you that if these should keep silent, the stones would immediately cry out.”
Jesus Weeps over Jerusalem
41 Now as He drew near, He saw the city and wept over it, 42 saying, “If you had known, even you, especially in this your day, the things that make for your peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 For days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment around you, surround you and close you in on every side, 44 and level you, and your children within you, to the ground; and they will not leave in you one stone upon another, because you did not know the time of your visitation.”
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