For dying we die and are as water which is spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up. And God does not take a life, but has devised plans so that the outcast is not cast out from Him.
Is Ephraim My dear son? Or is he a delightful child? For as often as I spoke against him, remembering I remember him still. So My bowels are stirred for him; pitying I will have pity on him, a statement of Jehovah.
Say to them, As I live, a statement of the Lord Jehovah, I do not have delight in the death of the wicked one, except in the evil one turning from his way, and so to live. Turn back! Turn back from your evil ways! For why will you die, O house of Israel?
How shall I give you up, Ephraim? Shall I deliver you, Israel? How shall I make you like Admah? Shall I set you as Zeboim? My heart has turned within Me; My compassions are kindled together.
Who is a God like You, lifting off iniquity and passing by the transgression of the remnant of His possession? He does not make strong His anger forever, for He delights in mercy.
The Lord of the promise is not slow, as some deem slowness, but is long-suffering toward us, not purposing any to perish, but all to turn one’s self to repentance.