^16-21 This is what God says,
    the God who builds a road right through the ocean,
    who carves a path through pounding waves,
The God who summons horses and chariots and armies—
    they lie down and then can’t get up;
    they’re snuffed out like so many candles:
“Forget about what’s happened;
    don’t keep going over old history.
Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.
    It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it?
There it is! I’m making a road through the desert,
    rivers in the badlands.
Wild animals will say ‘Thank you!’
    —the coyotes and the buzzards—
Because I provided water in the desert,
    rivers through the sunbaked earth,
Drinking water for the people I chose,
    the people I made especially for myself,
    a people custom-made to praise me.

^22-24 “But you didn’t pay a bit of attention to me, Jacob.
    You so quickly tired of me, Israel.
You wouldn’t even bring sheep for offerings in worship.
    You couldn’t be bothered with sacrifices.
It wasn’t that I asked that much from you.
    I didn’t expect expensive presents.
But you didn’t even do the minimum—
    so stingy with me, so closefisted.
Yet you haven’t been stingy with your sins.
    You’ve been plenty generous with them—and I’m fed up.