As they came to the end of their three day journey to Mount Moriah, all was quiet. The clouds hung low, fog settled, and the wind whispered of impending decisions.

Onlookers saw an ordinary father-son outing. Meandering together and camping by the river, bonds forged, love demonstrated, wood gathered. A special time with an only son.

But as they traveled, the reality of this ultimate sacrifice settled into the heart of Abraham: He had been asked to give up his one and only promised and beloved son, Isaac. The one for which he had prayed.

As they neared the chosen spot, Isaac questioned, “Father? Daddy? I don’t understand. I see wood, Daddy, but where’s the lamb? Where’s the sacrifice?”

Abraham responded, “My son, God will provide himself a Lamb for a burnt-offering.”

On this black day, I can’t begin to imagine Abraham’s reaction in these final moments. Weeping, pleading in his heart, “Take me instead, Father, take me,” followed by the final resignation — the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. {To read the story in its entirety, see Genesis 22.}

[linebreak]

In my kitchen, laughter permeates the air. I look around with joy as siblings are reunited. Our eldest is home for Easter and once again, our family is complete.

When my firstborn grabs his brother in a bear hug and slaps him on the back, my mind wraps around what’s been required of Abraham.

I couldn’t do it.

Lord, would you really ask for my child? The pain is too great, the asking too much. Out of the abundance of my heart, I beg you, Lord, anything else.

Silence. Deathly silence.

Yet in those final moments, a ram is offered up in Isaac’s stead. Abraham’s only son, saved.

Here we are thousands of years later on Good Friday — the ultimate paradox. For Christians, a dark-yet-critical day marked by sorrow is deemed good.

Abraham’s story foreshadows God’s sacrifice of his only Son, Jesus Christ, on the cross of Calvary. Our Emmanuel, not bound, but nailed to a tree. As He hung with crowns of thorns, blood trickled down His face as He made a way for us. Mocked and scorned, His side pierced for our transgressions.

Born to a virgin, so the Word would become flesh, He came to die, so He could stand in our stead. His momma, Mary, watched and screamed out as her son became the ultimate sacrificial Lamb. Her son would not be saved. Jesus would have no substitute. This was the purpose for which He was created. He must bleed. He must die. He must be crucified, so that we may have life.

Jesus, the sacrificial Lamb — provided by God to be our offering.

God’s great love required of Himself what He did not, would not have, required of Abraham.

“He himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed.” {1 Peter 2:24}

I am at a loss. Tears stream at how easily I’ve glossed over this day in preparation for Sunday’s celebration. I’ve read the account hundreds of times, but today, the Lamb of God who came for me, marked my heart once again. This time, my momma’s heart broke anew at this ultimate sacrifice.

It should have been me.

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, thank you…Hallelujah, What a Savior!

I mourn this Friday, but I know Sunday’s coming.

[linebreak]

Share on Twitter:

God’s great love required of Himself what He did not, and would not have, required of Abraham. {Tweet this!}

Shared by Jen of Balancing Beauty and Bedlam and host of the Becoming Conference

Leave a Comment