No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephzibah, and your land Beulah; for the Lord will take delight in you, and your land will be married. Isaiah 62:4.
“Forsaken” is a dreary word. It sounds like a knell. It is the record of the sharpest sorrows and the prophecy of direst ills. An abyss of misery yawns in that word forsaken. Forsaken by one who pledges his honor! Forsaken by a friend so long tried and trusted! Forsaken by a dear relative! Forsaken by father and mother! Forsaken by all! This is woe indeed, and yet it may be patiently borne if the Lord will take us up.
But what must it be to feel forsaken of God? Think of that bitterest of cries, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Have we ever in any degree tasted the wormwood and the gall of “forsaken” in that sense? If so, let us beseech our Lord to save us from any repetition of so unspeakable a sorrow. Oh, that such darkness may never return! Men in malice said of a saint, “God hath forsaken him; persecute and take him.” But it was always false. The Lord’s loving favor shall compel our cruel foes to eat their own words or, at least, to hold their tongues.
The reverse of all this is that superlative word Hephzibah “the Lord delighteth in thee.” This turns weeping into dancing. Let those who dreamed that they were forsaken hear the Lord say, “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.”
Charles H Spurgeon