Praise & Thanks
Isaiah 46:4
Lord, thank You that Your arms do not retire. You carried me here, and You will carry me on — to gray hairs and beyond. Hold the ones I love who are growing old, and let them feel Your grip tonight. Amen.
“Even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you.”
— Isaiah 46:4
Isaiah is writing to people watching an empire parade its gods through the streets. Bel and Nebo rode on ox-carts — statues that had to be hauled, strapped down, carried by weary animals and weary men, and that could not save the ones straining under them. Then God draws the contrast in one sentence: those gods are a burden you carry; I am the God who carries you. 'Listen to me… who have been borne by me from before your birth, carried from the womb: even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save.' Four verbs, one direction — all of them His. The promise deliberately reaches past the strong years, past usefulness, past the point where a person stops being able to carry anything at all. Whatever else gets set down as the years go on, you are not the thing that gets set down.
A new voiced prayer each day — for the morning, the commute, the sleepless 3 a.m.
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