An Ancient Story

The struggle up Mount Moriah

was cold; I drew my breath

The wind sang an aria

a solemn song of death.

Behind me walked my child

my only begotten son

The only boy I'd ever loved;

God had granted me only one.


And trudging still, my heart sank low

it seemed I could not even speak

The road that lay before me

made my once joyful spirit weak.

We prepared to make the sacrifice

I prepared to say goodbye

To the one thing in this world I treasured;

the apple of my eye.


My son! Mine only son!

Had not God given him to me?

For what? To take him back again?

My heart wept with misery.

And yet, I lay the stones

and set the wood to burn

And lay my hands upon the boy...


For my heart would never turn

Away from my God, Jehovah,

Who had blessed me with this child

And asked me to offer up Isaac

to go through with this trial.


I remember still the agony

that pierced my heart that day

When I prepared to kill my son;

my treasure give away.


And I remember too, the Hand

that grasped my own trembling one,

And spoke with a radiant Voice:

"Lay not thine hand upon thy son.

For I know now Whom you love

I know where your loyalties lie

You would choose me above all

even if Isaac had to die!"


And he bid me embrace my child,

and release him from the fire,

Then he provided the sacrifice

for my will was what He desired.


My Child, if He asks of you

more than you think you can bear,

Do not give Him just a percentage;

do not call His Love unfair.

For He has fashioned trials

and He will not take second place;

Our God is a jealous God

but He will give you grace

To sacrifice and to let go

what you've been tightly holding to

The very thing that binds your heart

may be what He requires of you.


Give Him your love, your all;

and let Him test your faith in the fire

After obedience come the blessing

and the whole of you is His desire.


You will not be found wanting

you will not be left alone

After you've been to your Moriah

you will come safely home.