Jeremiah 30:12
For this is what the LORD says: “Your injury is incurable; your wound is grievous.
BSB
ASV
For thus saith Jehovah, Thy hurt is incurable, and thy wound grievous.
KJV
For thus saith the Lord, Thy bruise is incurable, and thy wound is grievous.
Thy bruise is incurable - אנוש anush, desperate, not incurable; for the cure is promised in Jer 30:17, I will restore health unto thee, and I will heal thee of thy wounds.
The walk8
Follow this verse’s cross-references two steps out. Each card is a verse this one points to, and beneath it the verses that one points to in turn. Where several different paths arrive at the same place, that place is listed first: the text keeps returning to it. Every stop shows its own words, and every stop is a page.
Through
Jeremiah 15:18Why is my pain unending, and my wound incurable, refusing to be healed? You have indeed become like a mirage to me—water that is not there.
leads to
For her wound is incurable; it has reached even Judah; it has approached the gate of my people, as far as Jerusalem itself.
Reached by 2 independent paths from here.
Why do you cry out over your wound? Your pain has no cure! Because of your great iniquity and your numerous sins I have done these things to you.
Through
2 Chronicles 36:16But they mocked the messengers of God, despising His words and scoffing at His prophets, until the wrath of the LORD against His people was stirred up beyond remedy.
leads to
They have lied about the LORD and said: “He will not do anything; harm will not come to us; we will not see sword or famine.
The men who were holding Jesus began to mock Him and beat Him.
And the couriers traveled from city to city through the land of Ephraim and Manasseh as far as Zebulun; but the people scorned and mocked them.
Through
Jeremiah 14:17You are to speak this word to them: ‘My eyes overflow with tears; day and night they do not cease, for the virgin daughter of my people has been shattered by a crushing blow,…
leads to
For the brokenness of the daughter of my people I am crushed. I mourn; horror has gripped me.
Oh, that my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears! I would weep day and night over the slain daughter of my people.
What can I say for you? To what can I compare you, O Daughter of Jerusalem? To what can I liken you, that I may console you, O Virgin Daughter of Zion? For your…
Rare words are the text's own signal of a deliberate thread: the fewer the occurrences, the more the places it appears belong together.