This Holy Place

I hear now the voice I’ve come to love, asking of me the hardest thing I’ve been asked these long years. Can I do it? That voice usually stirs hope and peace but today I am sick. My bones shake and my stomach drops to the center of the earth. Every time I’ve listened to this voice it has been good. It has been. It really has. Not easy…but good. When I didn’t… well that mistake felt beyond redemption, though He did redeem it. Do I have it in me this time? I mean that’s my story, willing to leave everything at the sound of that voice. But can I this time? There’s no choice. 

“Here I am”

Oh, how I longed for a son. I held this dream on my heart well past the date of impossible. I pictured it many long years, the joy of pouring out my soul to build him up. I longed for the sacrifice of my life for his. How can I do this? I held this dream in my heart until he was put in my hands. I love him.

It makes no sense. Why would you work this way? I don’t understand. How can I lay down the dream you put in my hands? What are you doing? What could possibly be the good purpose? I can’t see it! The crisp mountain air and unearthly silence, yet I cannot see, I cannot feel, I cannot hear. The only thing I have is my mind, oh it won’t cease. What Are You Doing?! 

“Father…” My breath too heavy to answer but I say “yes my son?” Oh son of promise, the hope of God, in flesh.

“Where is the sacrifice?”

“God will provide.” Do I believe what is coming out of my mouth? I do. Yes. I do. He has to. God is the giver of promises. He has always done what He said. He always will. His plan is always good. I cling to these truths but I can’t see them. They are beyond my grasp today.

The hardest moment. This could not be what God wants. He made a promise! He values life! Death is not His way. Will my son trust me? Do I have the strength? He will have to raise him. The world stops spinning in my bones and my mind. All is still. God will have to raise him. 

Here lies my son trusting me to his final breath. I raise my knife, like this son will be raised. I look and see all my hopes and dreams embodied. Here lies all I love. For I will obey that voice. Ready with shaking hand I-

“Abraham!” I see it! In the bush all along. That voice I love cuts to my depths, my sons all live! I would give it all up in this Holy place. Here where the Lord has provided on the mountain of sacrifice, upon the stone of living promise.

All this for me to be a picture of the Father who understands, who followed through. The Son who gave His last breath to sacrifice for all. The Father who raised Him to provide. The Spirit who fills us with the strength to follow.