My Abraham Moment

I'm a parent. I'm a Christian. I'm not Abraham. Yet it seems to me that God is asking me to lay my Isaac on the altar. The thought of it is exquisitely painful. And if I didn't already know the end of the story, I don't think I'd even be able to consider it. As a mother, I would walk though fire to protect each one of my children.

With Abraham I can say "God will provide the lamb." By faith Abraham was obedient to offer his Isaac and God did provide the lamb. By faith, I need to offer up my own Isaac, even while I expectantly seek the ram in the bushes.

But I'm not Abraham and perhaps the end of my story is not the same as the end of Abraham's story. God may yet require a fiery sacrifice, not the literal sacrificial fire of Abraham's day but a trial by fire. I know how Abraham's story ends and I trust that is how my story will end---it's just the part right before the ending that I'm unsure about. 

Dutifully, yet a bit hesitantly, I purpose to release my Isaac in blind obedience and full faith. And obedience and faith are what God desires of me. God is God, whether a lamb is provided or not. My Isaac was His long before he was mine. And God loves him even more than I do.   

Here I have built my altar--here I have placed my Isaac. I release my child...to a fiery trial or to the gracious appearance of the Lamb of God.   

This is my Abraham moment.