There is a quiet tension hidden in these words. The phrase "while he may be found" carries within it a warning — not every moment is the same. There is a time when God draws near, and that window does not remain open forever. Isaiah speaks not to those who have abandoned faith entirely, but to those who are simply drifting, letting days pass without truly seeking.

Isaiah brought this word to a people in exile. Torn from their homeland, living among strangers, they quietly wondered whether God had forgotten them. Into that doubt he speaks: "He is near." Not far off, not silent — near. And because he is near, now is the time to call.

"Forsake his way" and "forsake his thoughts" — both are asked for. It is not enough to change a habit or two. The direction of the inner life must turn as well. This is why Lenten repentance is not merely moral self-improvement. It is a reorientation of the whole self — the compass of the heart reset toward God.

And at the end of that turning stands a promise: "he will abundantly pardon." The Hebrew word carries the sense of richness, of generosity. God does not pardon reluctantly, measuring out forgiveness in small portions. He pardons with abundance. That is the invitation of this Lenten season — not to earn mercy, but to return to the one who gives it freely.