During one of my devotions, I came across a promise made to the house of Jacob and Israel in Isaiah 46. Although this promise is specifically meant for the individuals Isaiah was addressing in his prophecy, I found it rather comforting for me. I felt a certain contentment that God is caring for me throughout my life.
The Lord told the house of Jacob and the house of Israel in Isaiah 46:3-4 “Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all you who remain of the house of Israel, you whom I have upheld since you were conceived, and have carried since your birth. Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”
Wow! What an awesome promise from God. No matter what the future holds, I know my God, the One who knew me before I was conceived, is directing my life and sustaining me throughout my years. There is none that can compare to HIM! There is none that can be HIS equal! HE is God and there is no other! (Isaiah 46:5, 9).
Take a moment and meditate and dwell on this Truth! The One who has no equal carries you along! Thank you Father for your protection and sustaining power throughout my “earthly” life! Even to my old age and gray hairs! Or in my case the “lost hairs!”
Allow God to comfort you with these words.
Here’s a poem my mother-in-law recently shared with me. It was written by John E. Robert, published in Faith and Victory July 2003.
Referring to 2 Corinthians 4:16, 18.
“They say that I am growing old. I’ve heard them tell it times untold,
In language plain and bold — But, I’m not growing old.
This frail old shell in which I dwell
Is growing old, I know quite well —
But, I am not the shell.
What if my hair is turning gray?
Gray hairs are honorable, they say,
What if my eyesight’s growing dim?
I still can see to follow Him
Who sacrificed His life for me
Upon the cross of Calvary.
What should I care if Time’s old plow
Has left its furrows on my brow?
Another house, not made with hands,
Awaits me in the Glory Land.
What though I falter in my walk?
What though my tongue is slow to talk?
I still can tread the Narrow Way.
I still can watch, and praise, and pray.
My hearing may not be as keen
As in the past it may have been,
Still I can hear my Savior say
In whispers soft, ‘This is the way.
The outward man, do what I can
To lengthen out this life’s short span,
Shall perish, and return to dust,
As everything in nature must.
The inward man, the Scriptures say,
Is growing stronger every day.
Then how can I be growing old
When safe within my Savior’s fold?
E’re long my soul shall fly away,
And leave this tenement of clay,
This robe of flesh I’ll drop and rise
To seize the everlasting prize.
I’ll meet you on the Streets of Gold,
And prove that I’m not growing old.”
— Keith Fife