Mount Moriah

You don't ask for the crust of my bread.  You don't ask for the old sweater I was going to give away anyway.  You don't ask for the little, grinning idols that I hand over all too easily.  You ask for the best I have...my Isaac.

You don't apologize for demanding such a high price, for it is the price of knowing You, and there is nothing that costs more.  You don't soften the blow by exposing my Isaac's flaws and shortcomings, hardening my heart toward him, or explaining even one reason that You would take him from me.  You ask me to bind him to the altar, and I obey not because I understand, but because You understand and that is enough.

There is a fiery furnace waiting for me every time I throw down an idol--even when, especially when that idol is one of God's good gifts--but I'll walk into the fire with hope and courage, because that's where You are, and You are better than the gifts.  There in the flames, the fourth Man who blazes brighter than the hottest furnace.  I'll run into the furnace if it means I can stand there with You.  I'll lay down the purest gift You've given me if it means I can just be where You are.

You are better.  You can tear me, and You can strike me down, but I will keep pressing on to know You because I am convinced that after You heal me, after You bind up my wounds, "As for me, I will be vindicated and will see Your face; when I awake, I will be satisfied with seeing Your likeness."

If even Your Son learned obedience through suffering, then how can I question the purpose and future glory of my suffering? You said of Your Son, "After He has suffered, He will see the light of life and be satisfied."  How much more can this be true of me, I who have never seen You in Your glory, I for whom there is so much left to astonish and satisfy!

And this brings me to my knees.  There is nothing You could ask me to lay upon the alter that is purer or better than Your Son, Whom You laid on the altar for me.  Whenever my spirit grumbles against Your commandments or chafes against Your yoke, let me look up and see the cross.  If the best of Heaven can be struck down to heal the worst of wrath's children, then surely I can lay aside Your shadow to grasp Your heart.  

“Take your son, your only son, whom you love—Isaac—and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you.”  Here he is, Lord.  Here I lay him down, here in the place called The LORD Will Provide.