Ink That Cannot Fade
J. Neil Daniels There’s a line tucked into Isaiah that has refused to leave me alone for years now, the kind of line that ambushes you when you’re tired or discouraged and lands harder than it did the last time. “Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands” (Isaiah 49:16). Not written in a ledger. Not pinned to a heavenly bulletin board. Etched. Cut in. The Hebrew verb there is חָקַק ( ḥāqaq ), here in the form חַקֹּתִיךְ —“I have engraved you.” It isn’t delicate. It carries the sense of cutting, carving, incising something permanent. The picture is not of God jotting down a reminder, but of Yahweh marking Himself. If you let that sit for a moment, it’ll undo you. In its immediate context, the words are spoken to Israel, and they’re spoken at a low point. Zion is complaining—boldly, even petulantly—that the Lord has forgotten her. “Yahweh has forsaken me, the Lord has forgotten me.” That’s the accusation. God’s response is not a rebuke, at least not di...