When Scripture Hits Hard: A Look at Isaiah 43

Have you ever read something in Scripture that felt like a warm hug…and then suddenly it's like a punch to the gut? That was my experience with Isaiah 43.

The beginning of the chapter is loaded with encouragement and hope. You can almost hear God’s heart pounding with love and faithfulness: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.” Those words feel like a banner over us—covering every fear, every doubt, every moment we’ve felt unseen or unloved.

It pumps me up. Because it’s not some vague, impersonal declaration. It’s intimate. God doesn’t say He can save us—He says He has. Not only that but He calls us by name. That’s the kind of love that overcomes darkness. The kind that charges into battle to rescue the one sheep that wandered off.

But then, if you keep reading, it takes a sharp turn. After all that triumph and declaration, it suddenly feels like a punch to the gut. God says, "Yet you have not called on me... you have been weary of me." Wait, what?! It’s such a quick 180 that it leaves you reeling.

That shift is a sobering reminder. We are broken. We forget. We drift. And the reality is—we don’t always seek God the way He seeks us. It’s a glimpse of what we deserve apart from Him. And yet, even in that hard truth, there is still hope. Because God’s love and goodness isn’t based on what we do.

Even in our failure—He remains faithful.

God doesn’t love us because we’ve earned it. He loves us because that’s who He is. Good. Steadfast. Gracious. He reminds us again and again: I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are mine.

That contrast between His faithfulness and our forgetfulness is jarring—but it also makes His mercy all the more stunning. Because it means that even on the days when I don’t show up, He still does.

So take a minute today and read Isaiah 43. Don’t rush it. Let it stir something in you. Let it both comfort and convict. And when you get to the end, let it remind you of this: our God doesn’t give up on us. He’s still calling. Still redeeming. Still saying, you are Mine!