This is a poem about Abraham and Isaac, mainly about Isaac being the
sacrifice for a burnt offering to the Lord. For the real story, read
Genesis 22: 1-9. Please read and review! ~Sarah
The Sacrifice
My father took me with him one morning,
On his way to make a burnt offering.
I wondered why he must take me along,
And then, just noticed that something was wrong.
I asked, "Father, the fire and wood are here,
But I can see no sacrifice lamb near."
"This lamb, my son, God himself will provide,"
He answered, heading up the mountainside.
When we reached the top, no lamb could I see.
I wondered what the sacrifice could be.
My father said, in a very small voice,
"My son, I must do this. I have no choice."
My hands and body, he began to tie
And I realized it was me, meant to die.
How I hated my father! How could he?
Perhaps the lamb God provided was me.
But still, why must I be the sacrifice?
Did I sin, for which I must pay the price?
My father raised the knife to stab my heart.
Goodbye, Father! By you, I must depart!
By my own dear father, must I be killed?
And my heart, with a great despair, was filled.
I looked up at his eyes and trembling hand.
He looked so broken, unable to stand.
How he loved me, yet his faith was stronger.
I shut my eyes; I could watch no longer.
Oh, how it broke my heart to see his pain.
I felt warm wet drops. Was it tears or rain?
Then, from silence, came a magnified voice.
Deep in my heart, how it made me rejoice!
God said, "Raise not your hand against your son.
I see you love me more than anyone."
My father looked relieved, no longer torn,
As he found a young ram, caught by its horn.
And he sacrificed it, praising the Lord.
Back down the mountain, our home, we went toward.
Just now do I realize how great was he,
Able to obey the Lord faithfully.
And now I know that God really does save.
Just look at this life I have now to pave!
The Sacrifice
My father took me with him one morning,
On his way to make a burnt offering.
I wondered why he must take me along,
And then, just noticed that something was wrong.
I asked, "Father, the fire and wood are here,
But I can see no sacrifice lamb near."
"This lamb, my son, God himself will provide,"
He answered, heading up the mountainside.
When we reached the top, no lamb could I see.
I wondered what the sacrifice could be.
My father said, in a very small voice,
"My son, I must do this. I have no choice."
My hands and body, he began to tie
And I realized it was me, meant to die.
How I hated my father! How could he?
Perhaps the lamb God provided was me.
But still, why must I be the sacrifice?
Did I sin, for which I must pay the price?
My father raised the knife to stab my heart.
Goodbye, Father! By you, I must depart!
By my own dear father, must I be killed?
And my heart, with a great despair, was filled.
I looked up at his eyes and trembling hand.
He looked so broken, unable to stand.
How he loved me, yet his faith was stronger.
I shut my eyes; I could watch no longer.
Oh, how it broke my heart to see his pain.
I felt warm wet drops. Was it tears or rain?
Then, from silence, came a magnified voice.
Deep in my heart, how it made me rejoice!
God said, "Raise not your hand against your son.
I see you love me more than anyone."
My father looked relieved, no longer torn,
As he found a young ram, caught by its horn.
And he sacrificed it, praising the Lord.
Back down the mountain, our home, we went toward.
Just now do I realize how great was he,
Able to obey the Lord faithfully.
And now I know that God really does save.
Just look at this life I have now to pave!
