Isaiah 45, 3-4 and 12

It is
God, my God,
Who sung and spun the world into being.
Who lit the morning star on the first dawn;
God, who sings all creation.

It is
God, my God,
Who calls the bee to nectar;
Who touches the bronzing fruit of the orchard,
And who gave the night owl majesty over indigo skies.

It is
God, my God,
The One who is Love.
Who is Love, and who whispered my name.
Who called me into being.
God, who knows me completely.

 

It is
God, my God
Who dares to paint the city scapes and jungle rain.
Who dares me – to be me.

To be wholly and utterly me;
To treasure each step on the path set before me;
To cherish every precious moment,
Hold it, keep it, hide it within;
Add it to the channel of Life running through me.

Till the channel becomes a stream,
And that stream becomes a river;
A river that waters and nurtures a garden of small flowers and delicate colours;
A Garden of Hope.

It is
God, my God,
Who loves me as if I were the only one,
Until that day comes
When God again calls me by name
And I will be fully me,
And fully formed,
And fully belonging to God.

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