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Paradox

He is I AM. 

Before the world began 

He was and is. 

And by His great command 

That which was nothing 

Came to light and life as planned, 

And void became 

His vast domain of praise. 

Ancient of Days, 

He drew a time out of eternity 

And scooped the dust to form a man, 

And breathed eternity into a lump of clay and sand. 

Such foolishness for One 

Who shines more brightly than the sun 

And moon and stars of all the universe combined!

Who could approach unto the Mind or 

Know the ways 

Of One Who makes His highest instrument of praise 

To be a man with feet of clay? 

And would not wisdom say 

That suns-a million shining bright, 

An endless day to swallow up the night—

Be fitter worshipers than this unworthy speck 

In all the universe’s wide expanse? 

What builder takes a chance 

And uses dust to make a wall? 

Did He not know that man was only fit to fall? 

And fall he did. 

His sin and shame 

Brought no more praise to his Creator’s Name 

Than pipes untuned or violins unstrung. 

And all creation left its perfect song unsung 

Because of him. Better had void remained 

Than this—God’s great Creation stained. 

Then His Creative Will 

Gives birth to One more foolish still. 

He scoops the dust again, 

Presents Himself as man—

Creator, now Redeemer. 

Now from less than dust He’ll raise 

An even finer instrument of praise. 

Who else with blood would wash away a stain? 

Who else from dust distill a cleansing rain 

Of tears to be the only sacrifice of any worth? 

And then He promises another birth? More foolishness. 

One who has proved his worthlessness before 

Is granted even more! 

The mortal, fallen by his own rebellious choice, 

Shall yet receive immortal voice, 

A perfect song, a heavenly place 

With His Creator, face to Face. 

O foolishness of God—far wiser than 

Collected wisdom of the ages known to man! 

The more I contemplate what should have been my end, 

The higher must my praise to Him ascend. 

—Suzanne Looyenga