Isaiah

¹ The no-god hunks of wood are loaded on mules And have to be hauled off, wearing out the poor mules—

² hauled off to captivity.

³ everyone that's left of the family of Israel. I've been carrying you on my back from the day you were born,

⁴ I'll be there, bearing you when you're old and gray. I've done it and will keep on doing it, carrying you on my back, saving you.

⁵ Can you picture me without reducing me?

⁶ hire craftsmen to make them gods. The artisan delivers the god, and they kneel and worship it!

⁷ then take it home and put it on a shelf. And there it sits, day in and day out, a dependable god, always right where you put it. Say anything you want to it, it never talks back. Of course, it never does anything either!

⁸ This is serious business, rebels. Take it to heart.

⁹ your long and rich history. I am God, the only God you've had or ever will have— incomparable, irreplaceable—

¹⁰ telling you what the ending will be, All along letting you in on what is going to happen, Assuring you, 'I'm in this for the long haul, I'll do exactly what I set out to do,'

¹¹ from a far country the man I chose to help me. I've said it, and I'll most certainly do it. I've planned it, so it's as good as done.

¹² You're a hardheaded bunch and hard to help.

¹³ Deliverance is not a long-range plan. Salvation isn't on hold. I'm putting salvation to work in Zion now, and glory in Israel.