Amavesi eBhayibheli adumile avela kokuthi Isaiah 51

Dlulisela

“I, I’m the One comforting you. What are you afraid of—or who? Some man or woman who’ll soon be dead? Some poor wretch destined for dust? You’ve forgotten me, GOD, who made you, who unfurled the skies, who founded the earth. And here you are, quaking like an aspen before the tantrums of a tyrant who thinks he can kick down the world. But what will come of the tantrums? The victims will be released before you know it. They’re not going to die. They’re not even going to go hungry. For I am GOD, your very own God, who stirs up the sea and whips up the waves, named GOD-of-the-Angel-Armies. I teach you how to talk, word by word, and personally watch over you, Even while I’m unfurling the skies, setting earth on solid foundations, and greeting Zion: ‘Welcome, my people!’”

“I, I’m the One comforting you. What are you afraid of—or who? Some man or woman who’ll soon be dead? Some poor wretch destined for dust? You’ve forgotten me, GOD, who made you, who unfurled the skies, who founded the earth. And here you are, quaking like an aspen before the tantrums of a tyrant who thinks he can kick down the world. But what will come of the tantrums? The victims will be released before you know it. They’re not going to die. They’re not even going to go hungry. For I am GOD, your very own God, who stirs up the sea and whips up the waves, named GOD-of-the-Angel-Armies. I teach you how to talk, word by word, and personally watch over you, Even while I’m unfurling the skies, setting earth on solid foundations, and greeting Zion: ‘Welcome, my people!’”

“Listen now, you who know right from wrong, you who hold my teaching inside you: Pay no attention to insults, and when mocked don’t let it get you down. Those insults and mockeries are moth-eaten, from brains that are termite-ridden, But my setting-things-right lasts, my salvation goes on and on and on.”

“Listen to me, all you who are serious about right living and committed to seeking GOD. Ponder the rock from which you were cut, the quarry from which you were dug. Yes, ponder Abraham, your father, and Sarah, who bore you. Think of it! One solitary man when I called him, but once I blessed him, he multiplied. Likewise I, GOD, will comfort Zion, comfort all her mounds of ruins. I’ll transform her dead ground into Eden, her moonscape into the garden of GOD, A place filled with exuberance and laughter, thankful voices and melodic songs.

Wake up, wake up, flex your muscles, GOD! Wake up as in the old days, in the long ago. Didn’t you once make mincemeat of Rahab, dispatch the old chaos-dragon? And didn’t you once dry up the sea, the powerful waters of the deep, And then made the bottom of the ocean a road for the redeemed to walk across? In the same way GOD’s ransomed will come back, come back to Zion cheering, shouting, Joy eternal wreathing their heads, exuberant ecstasies transporting them— and not a sign of moans or groans.