Listen to me, O coastlands!
Hear the story of my call, O mountains!
The LORD called me even before I had a name;
God gave me a call
before I could walk or crawl or even suck my thumb.
The Creating God sharpened my tongue for truth
but also invited me to draw close and listen;
the Ever-Calling God forged me like a tool in a mighty fire
and said to me, “You are my servant — no, closer than that —
you are like a child who carries on the family name;
you are my child, through whom my glory radiates.”
But I said, “I don’t know, LORD.
You are my Rock and my Sustainer, I have no doubt,
but I am spent and tired; my creativity is gone
and I don’t know what else I can bring to you,
or what I can possibly do to make a difference.”
And God replied to me, “You’re right —
it’s not quite adequate to call you my servant
or even my child
because a servant and a child feel restricted by the limits
that are laid out for them by the authority of others.
No — you are my gift of light to the world,
the fullest expression of my love and peace
of which there are no limits
so you will not be weighed down when I call you,
but rather, lifted up with joy and celebration
for the faithfulness and goodness of God.”
