Jehovah-Jireh Was There
"Goodnight, Mother," I said as I exited her tent.
"Goodnight, my sweet son," she replied. Inwardly I smiled as I strolled toward my tent. Glancing up, I saw my father coming toward me. "Isaac, Isaac!" he called.
"Is something wrong, Father?" I asked, for he appeared to have been crying.
"No, but you must go prepare for a journey in the morning. We leave at first light to go worship God."
"The whole camp?"
"No, son, only us and two of the servants."
"Yes, Father." I paused in my departure to ask, "Where are we going?"
"The Lord will tell me when we arrive."
I nodded, because this was not an unusual answer. "Goodnight, then, Father."
"Goodnight, Isaac." He moved toward his tent and I turned to watch him. Was it just me, or did he seem sad about this journey? I sighed, knowing that if he said he was well, there was nothing I could do except obey him and pack. I went to do just that.
The next morning, I emerged from my tent and saw my parents arguing, something they rarely do. My mother began sobbing, and my father tried to embrace her, but she wouldn't allow him to. He sighed and appeared to take his leave of her. I slowly approached her. "Mother? Father and I are leaving." She immediately threw her arms around me, kissing me over and over again. "Mother, I'll be back soon," I said, confused.
"I love you so much, Isaac. I hope you know that."
"Of course I do, Mother. I love you as well." She nodded and finally released me. Father was waiting with two servants, a donkey, and some wood. I joined them and we left.
After three days, Father had finally seen the place we were to go from a distance. He turned to the servants. "Stay here with the donkey, and I and the lad will go over there; and we will worship and return to you." He took the wood off of the donkey and handed it to me. He took a torch and knife and we continued on alone. Once we had begun to climb the mountain, I noticed something. "Father?"
"Yes, my son?"
"Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?"
"God will provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son." I was puzzled but accepted his answer.
Finally, we arrived at the place we were to offer the sacrifice. By this time, I was very perplexed. There still was no lamb. Father took the wood from me and arranged it into an altar. Then, ever so slowly, he turned toward me, tears streaming down his face. In an instant, I knew what he meant to do. And yet, even as tears pricked my own eyes, I felt at peace. I knew he would never hurt me unless God had ordered it. Wordlessly, I held out my hands, willing to allow him to bind me and, yes, even to kill me. His tears flowed faster as he realized that I was prepared to die at his hand, if God required it. Slowly, and with shaking hands, he tied my wrists together. Our eyes met, and we held each other's gaze for several seconds. Finally, I whispered, my voice choked with tears, "I love you, Father."
"I love you, my son," he gasped out through his sadness. He pulled me into his arms like he had when I was a child. After a few minutes, he released me and kissed both of my cheeks. I swallowed back my fear and walked to the altar, hesitating only a moment before laying down on it. I turned my head to see Father briefly bury his face in his hands, dropping the knife for a moment before collecting himself, leaning to pick up the dagger before coming to stand over me. I leaned my head back to allow him easier access to my neck. I watched as he raised his hand, which was shaking, and I doubted that was because of age.
The knife began to come down. I squeezed my eyes shut before deciding I would rather see my father as I die and opening them.
The knife came closer, closer, closer. Right before it would have pierced my skin, a voice boomed out, surrounding Father and I. "Abraham! Abraham!"
The knife tumbled to the ground. "Here I am!" he responded.
"Do not stretch out your hand against the lad, and do nothing to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me."
I felt Father's hand lifting me from the altar and unbinding me, yet I was almost unaware. I slowly lifted my head and saw a ram caught in a thicket by its horns. Father noticed it as well, and he went and gently untangled it before carrying it to the altar and offering it in my place.
The heavenly voice spoke again. "By Myself I have sworn, declares the Lord, because you have done this thing and have not withheld your son, your only son, indeed I will greatly bless you, and I will greatly multiply your seed as the stars of the heavens and as the sand which is on the seashore; and your seed shall possess the gate of their enemies. In your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed, because you have obeyed My voice."
After the angel had spoken, we slowly began to leave this place where I had first heard the voice of God. As we descended the mountain, my father spoke for the first time since he had responded to the angel. "My son, I must explain-"
"No, Father, I understand. God asked you to offer me as a sacrifice. And… you love God more than me." I winced. "That sounded wrong. I know you love me, but God is more important than me."
He gave me a thin smile. "Yes, but also… Isaac, God made a covenant with me, promising descendants, and He never breaks His covenants. Do you know what I am saying?"
"You knew God would stop you?"
"No. I hoped He would, but even if He didn't…"
"You would have killed me in obedience."
"Yes, but God could not break His promise. So how could His promise and His command both take place?"
I cocked my head, trying to understand. "You and Mother would have had another son?"
He laughed. "No. Your birth, Isaac, was such a miracle that I dare not think that God would bless us again."
"Then how?"
He touched my shoulder, stopping me. "God is powerful enough to raise the dead, Isaac."
It took me a moment to realize what he was saying. "You mean that if God had allowed you to kill me, you knew He would raise me from the dead?"
"Yes."
"I wish I had your faith, Father."
He smiled at me and replied, "Walk with God your whole life, my son, and you might surpass me." He turned to look at the mountain where I had had the most wonderful and terrifying experience of my life. "This mountain shall be called The Lord Will Provide."
A/N: The name of this song was inspired by the song 'You Were There' by Avalon. If you haven't heard it, go listen to it!