“I am but a child!” you say.
“What business do you have with people of no claim,
of no clout, of no clue about the road to repentance
and the return from exile?”
Aahh, O clueless one, of no claim and no clout,
you know not that of which you speak!
Before your mother’s maiden life, I knew you;
before your father’s toddling feet,
I planned your sinews and mapped your countenance.
O child of consecrated lips and covenant voice,
relinquish your fear!
You shall not be put to shame.
Your Refuge is secure.
It is you, O child of destined grace,
who will utter the Word that will shatter all enmity.
So let the nations tremble at the
joy-filled cymbal-clapping songs
of redemption’s approach.
Let every wicked grip and cruelty’s grasp
be loosed by the grammar of praise.
No scorn, no disgrace, can ever erase
the full pleasure of Mercy’s requite.