Faithful like Abraham - a short story

     Never had the sunrise looked so bleak. Would that the sun turn and sink, and never rise again! He rolled from beside his wife and went to the open tent flap. Resting a wrinkled hand upon the thick cloth, his nose was filled with the scent of dew and his ears with bird song.

     He looked back to his wife. She was a lovely woman, even now, in her old age. Yet, Sarah had never looked so beautiful to him as now, when their five year old son was curled up against her, his plump lips parted, his dark curls upon her arm.

     Abraham raised shaky hands and sent up a prayer. Please God, don't take my son. Remember your promises to me! You promised me that my descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the sky. You told me that all the nations of the world would be blessed through me. I waited so long for Isaac, Lord! Don't take him from me now!

     God was silent.

     With heavy steps Abraham roused two of his servants, saddled a donkey, and had wood split for the burnt offering. As he bound the sticks to the donkey his throat thickened, nearly gagging him. He paused, closing his eyes and his head bowed. This has to be a test, he thought to himself. Surely God will not ask me do do this!

     Abraham ducked back into the tent, where his wife and Isaac still slumbered. He took a knife and slid it into his belt. He set his gnarled hand upon his son's smooth shoulder, and shook him gently.

“Come, my son. We are going on a little journey.”

     Isaac sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and smiled at his papa. Abraham's heart nearly broke, and he blinked rapidly. His son was perfect, beautiful, the most precious of everything he had. Sarah woke as Isaac scrambled to his feet, taking his father's hand.

     “Where are you going?” she asked, sitting up. Motherly intuition was plain on her face.

     “God has asked me to sacrifice on the mountain.”

     Sarah looked at his face, and her brow puckered as she looked at him. After decades of marriage, she knew him so well. “What is going on?”

     He turned and walked away, unable to answer her. Isaac was eager to set off on this special trip with his father, and dashed ahead, the servants hastening after him. Abraham followed in a steadier pace. He dared to glance back at the tent, and saw Sarah was watching from the doorway, her beautiful face rife with anxiety as she looked after her son.

     Don't take her son away! Abraham's heart cried out. She loved Isaac with the force of love increased by countless years of waiting. When her belly had grown she had laughed aloud, drawing his hand to feel the baby leap within her. When she had taken their squalling son to her breast for the first time, her brow damp with perspiration, her body limp with exhaustion, she had laughed again with joy.

     As Abraham walked towards the Moriah mountains, he began to recite the promises of God to himself over and over. God had promised him that his line would continue through Isaac. God's promises were eternal, somehow God would make this right. He clung to those promises as he left the servants with the donkey, and ascended the rocky slope with his son alone. Isaac carried the wood himself.

     “Wait here,” he told his servants. Clinging to the promises of the Lord, he added, “We will return soon.”

     As they climbed, Isaac grew weary, and put his warm little hand in his own. Abraham took the wood from his son, and recited the promises to himself again.

     “Papa, I see the wood and the fire, but where is the burnt offering?”

     Abraham answered, “The Lord Himself shall provide the lamb.”

     Isaac helped him gather the stones for the altar. They placed the wood. The moment had come. His heart crying out within him, he took Isaac as God had commanded him to do. His son was so obedient, he didn't cry out or struggle when he bound him, but stared at him with wide brown eyes. He trusted his father would take care of him. Abraham scooped him up, and laid his little form upon the altar. God, please don't ask this of me!

     He had obeyed God his whole life, and God had blessed him beyond measure. With trembling hands, he took the knife, and held it over his son.

     “Abraham, Abraham!” a voice thundered around him.

     Abraham's heart leapt with hope. “Here I am.”

     “Do not harm the lad! I know now that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son from Me.”

     Thank God! Tears burst from his eyes at last, and he cast the knife aside. He scrambled to untie his son, and pulled him to his breast, weeping loudly. Isaac's little arms wrapped around his neck, and he clung to his father, uncertain.
     Abraham lifted his eyes at last, and saw a ram with his horns caught in a thicket. Abraham and Isaac sacrificed the ram upon the altar, the thick smoke rising up to heaven.

     "The Lord will Provide,” he said, and smiled down on Isaac. Isaac looked up at him, and his smile was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Read this Story for Yourself! Genesis 22. (For the entire story of Abraham, start back in Chapter 11)


My Thoughts:

I cried as I wrote this story. I have a five year old son named Isaac, and putting myself in Abraham's place makes tears rain down my cheeks as the keyboard keys click beneath my fingertips. How could he have faith this great? He is not called the Father of the Faithful for nothing! In Galations 3:29 we see that we, too, are part of the promise given to Abraham, "And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham's descendants, heirs according to promise."

Your Turn!

How can I follow up a faith story like this one? All I can say, is that if faith like Abraham seems as impossible to you as it does to me, to remember that with God, all things are possible.