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.