adapted from Genesis 22:1-8; Hebrews 11:17-19 by M. Koehler

Isaac watched his father untie the donkey’s rope from the bridle. A load of firewood clattered to the ground. Two servants bent to help the elderly man. Abraham shook his head, waving them away. Taking the rope, he bundled the wood.

Isaac’s father had said little since their journey began three days earlier. Abraham was more than 100 years old. Never had he looked older.

Mount Moriah stood before them, its shadows dark in the afternoon sun. Abraham stared at the mountain’s summit. Turning to his father, Isaac watched him wipe a tear from his face.

The old man bent low, lifting the firewood and placing it on Isaac’s back. Then he lumbered over to the donkey, unhooking a bronze brazier from the packsaddle. The brazier’s pan held coals from that morning’s fire.

Father must be preparing for a burnt sacrifice, Isaac thought. They needed to hurry. The sun would set soon.

Abraham turned to the servants, speaking for the first time. “Stay here with the donkey while the boy and I are gone.” The old man’s voice sounded heavy. “We will worship and then return.”

The two began walking. Isaac grunted, the firewood digging at his back. He was determined not to complain. His father was obeying the LORD, willing to make a long journey in spite of his age. Isaac wanted to obey his father’s God, too.

“Father.”

“Yes, my son?” Abraham replied.

“The fire and wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?”

His father took a long time to answer. Another tear trickled down his cheek.

“God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.”

Reaching the top, Isaac turned. Abraham was kneeling, hands held toward heaven. Tears now bathed his face.

Isaac shuddered. Some poor lamb was about to die. Sin was a horrible thing, requiring death as its payment. His father had shed the blood of many sheep over the years, trusting God for forgiveness. With each sacrifice, Abraham reminded Isaac it was an act of faith, not a mere act.

Would there ever be a sacrifice big enough to pay for the whole world’s sins? Isaac wondered. Certainly, there weren’t enough sheep to go around for everyone’s wrongdoings. His father often assured him that someday the Perfect Lamb would come.

Abraham finished praying. He stood to his feet, knees quaking. He no longer cried. Instead he had a strange look of determination.

“Isaac, do you know I love you?” Abraham laid the knife and brazier on a large rock.

“Yes, Father, you tell me all the time.”

“Is there anyone I love more than you?” The old man piled stones to form an altar where they would sacrifice the lamb.

Isaac thought. “You always tell me I must love the LORD, more than anything.”

Abraham nodded and finished building the altar in silence.

Now complete, the altar shone red in the setting sun.

Isaac’s father untied the firewood. Tossing the rope toward the knife and brazier, Abraham arranged the wood on the altar. Then he stuffed dry grass among the branches.

Where’s the lamb? Isaac wondered. God still has to provide the lamb.

With the rope in his hand, Abraham approached Isaac. Isaac stared into his father’s eyes.

“What I do now, my beloved son, I do in faithful obedience to God.”

Abraham gently took Isaac’s hands, crossing them at the wrists. Then he tied them with the rope.

Isaac shook nervously but did not resist. Hands tied, Isaac laid down, allowing Abraham to bind his feet.

God must have told him to do this, Isaac thought.

Abraham lifted Isaac to the altar. “God, only you can save my son,” the old man whispered with assurance. “You, O LORD, must raise him from the dead.”

Isaac closed his eyes. A prayer formed in his mind: God of my father, I am afraid. I do not understand, but I know my father loves me. And he loves You more. What he does now, must be part of that love. Help me not be afraid.

Isaac’s eyes remained shut as he waited.

“Abraham! Abraham!”

Isaac’s eyes snapped open. The first thing he saw was the knife in his father’s hand, poised high in the air.

The next thing Isaac saw was hard to describe: a man dressed in clothing too white to be of the world. An angel.

“Here I am,” Isaac heard his father say.

“Do not lay a hand on the boy,” the angel commanded. “Do not do anything to him. Now I know you fear God, because you have not withheld your son, your only son.”

Abraham suddenly heard a loud thrashing. In one of the bushes, a ram was caught by its horns, struggling to get free. Abraham smiled as he untied his son. Then the old man took the rope and rushed toward the bush.

As the slain ram burned in the evening’s moonlight, Isaac finally relaxed. And he noticed his father looked younger than he had in years.

	Q: What did one lightbulb say to the other one? A: “Watt are you doing?” Charles R., 10, Georgia Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe