Isaiah Chapter 64
Showing all 12 verses for Isaiah Chapter 64.
The People's Bible is written by people, for the people. Each verse below shows:
"Oh that thou wouldest rend the heavens, that thou wouldest come down, that the mountains might flow down at thy presence, "
"Oh, that you would tear open the sky and come down, so that mountains would melt and shake at your presence!"
It's alright to want a dramatic sign when you're struggling — to wish I would just show up unmistakably. I hear that longing, even when my answers often come more quietly than you'd like.
"As when the melting fire burneth, the fire causeth the waters to boil, to make thy name known to thine adversaries, that the nations may tremble at thy presence! "
"Like fire that makes water boil, come down to make your name known to your enemies, so that the nations would tremble before you."
Wanting to be taken seriously, wanting real wrongs finally to be seen for what they are — that desire isn't petty. I understand the ache for things to finally be made plain.
"When thou didst terrible things which we looked not for, thou camest down, the mountains flowed down at thy presence. "
"When you did amazing things we weren't expecting, you came down and the mountains shook at your presence."
What I've done before is proof of what I can do again — don't let today's silence make you forget yesterday's evidence.
"For since the beginning of the world men have not heard, nor perceived by the ear, neither hath the eye seen, O God, beside thee, what he hath prepared for him that waiteth for him. "
"Since the beginning of the world, no one has heard or seen a God like you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him."
What's coming for you if you keep trusting and waiting well may be bigger than anything you could plan or predict. Don't limit your hope to what you can currently imagine.
"Thou meetest him that rejoiceth and worketh righteousness, those that remember thee in thy ways: behold, thou art wroth; for we have sinned: in those is continuance, and we shall be saved. "
"You welcome those who joyfully do what's right, who keep you in mind as they go about their lives. But you were angry, because we sinned — we've been in that state a long time, yet we still hope to be saved."
I notice and welcome real, joyful goodness wherever it shows up. But even when you've fallen short for a long time, that's not the end of the story — hope stays open.
"But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away. "
"But all of us are like something unclean, and even our best deeds are like dirty rags; we all wither like a leaf, and our wrongdoing sweeps us away like the wind."
You don't have to be perfect for me to love you — in fact, none of us ever are. Let go of the exhausting effort to prove your worth through flawless performance; you're received as you are.
"And there is none that calleth upon thy name, that stirreth up himself to take hold of thee: for thou hast hid thy face from us, and hast consumed us, because of our iniquities. "
"No one calls on your name or makes the effort to hold onto you, because you've hidden your face from us and let our own wrongdoing consume us."
If you've drifted and it feels too hard to reach out again, that very difficulty is something I understand — reaching out even weakly is enough to start.
"But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our poster; and we all are the work of thy hand. "
"But now, God, you are our father; we are the clay, and you are the potter — we are all the work of your hands."
You are not a finished product to be judged — you are still being shaped, and I'm not done with you. Let that take the pressure off needing to already be perfect.
"Be not wroth very sore, O LORD, neither remember iniquity for ever: behold, see, we beseech thee, we are all thy people. "
"Don't be furious with us forever, God, or hold our wrongdoing against us permanently — please look, we are all your people."
You don't have to build a case to deserve forgiveness — just come and say 'I'm yours.' That's enough of a reason for me.
"Thy holy cities are a wilderness, Zion is a wilderness, Jerusalem a desolation. "
"Your holy cities have become a wasteland; Zion is a wasteland, Jerusalem is a ruin."
You don't need to dress up your pain in hopeful language before I'll listen. Tell me plainly how bad it is — that honesty is itself a form of trust.
"Our holy and our beautiful house, where our fathers praised thee, is burned up with fire: and all our pleasant things are laid waste. "
"Our holy and beautiful temple, where our ancestors used to praise you, has been burned down, and everything precious to us lies in ruins."
The places that hold your memories and meaning matter, and losing them is a real loss worth grieving — I don't ask you to act as though a place didn't matter just because it's gone.
"Wilt thou refrain thyself for these things, O LORD? wilt thou hold thy peace, and afflict us very sore? "
"After all this, God, will you still hold back? Will you stay silent and let us suffer so badly?"
It's alright to end a hard prayer without an answer. Just asking, honestly and directly, is itself an act of trust that I'm listening — even in the silence.