Now it came to pass after these things that God tested Abraham, and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then He said, “Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.”

So Abraham rose early in the morning and saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son; and he split the wood for the burnt offering, and arose and went to the place of which God had told him. Then on the third day Abraham lifted his eyes and saw the place afar off. And Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey; the lad and I will go yonder and worship, and we will come back to you.”

So Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on Isaac his son; and he took the fire in his hand, and a knife, and the two of them went together. But Isaac spoke to Abraham his father and said, “My father!” And he said, “Here I am, my son.” Then he said, “Look, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” And Abraham said, “My son, God will provide for Himself the lamb for a burnt offering.” So the two of them went together.

Then they came to the place of which God had told him. And Abraham built an altar there and placed the wood in order; and he bound Isaac his son and laid him on the altar, upon the wood. And Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to slay his son. But the Angel of the Lord called to him from heaven and said, “Abraham, Abraham!” So he said, “Here I am.” And He said, “Do not lay your hand on the lad, or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.”

Then Abraham lifted his eyes and looked, and there behind him was a ram caught in a thicket by its horns. So Abraham went and took the ram, and offered it up for a burnt offering instead of his son. And Abraham called the name of the place, The-Lord-Will-Provide [Hebrew, YHWH Yireh, or Jehovahjireh]; as it is said to this day, “In the Mount of The Lord it shall be provided.”

Then the Angel of the Lord called to Abraham a second time out of heaven and said: “By Myself I have sworn, says the Lord, because you have done this thing, and have not withheld your son, your only son– blessing I will bless you, and multiplying I will multiply your descendants as the stars of the heaven and as the sand which is on the seashore; and your descendants 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.”

Genesis 22

I’ve been thinking about faith quite a bit recently. In all truth, I’ve thought of myself as a man of little faith for most of my adult life; sure, there have been a few highlights here and there where I’ve seen the Lord provide, and I’ve been happy to say I was there to see him come through. But honestly, when ever I’ve held my life up against the stunning examples of faith that are handed down to us through the Bible and through history itself, I’ve found myself woefully lacking. I think of George Muler, the apostle Paul, Corrie Ten Boom, Brother Andrew, the prophet Elijah, even the brief glimpses in some of the people that Jesus encounters during his ministry. Wow.

I was reading a few months ago in Foxes book of Martyrs. I try to read a few sections every once in a while since it’s a bit on the heavy side; I can’t handle too many accounts of men singing praise songs to their Savior while burning alive. Perhaps I can’t handle it well because it always leaves a burning question deep in my soul – what would I do?

It’s not so much that I expect to find myself drenched in oil and tied to a stake anytime soon as a price for my faith; but even the consideration picks at my mind in the back of my consciousness. They say every man has his price – what is it for me? Where is the line beyond which I will deny my God and my Savior? At what point is the cost of following God and obeying his word too much?

The Sunday-school answer is obviously never – God will preserve us and strengthen us through any adversity. The Perseverance of the Saints is one of the cornerstones of protestant theology, going back to the Reformation. But in some ways, this opens up an even scarier question. If God will preserve his Saints, and I have fears and questions in my mind that there could come a point where I could denounce my Creator, am I counted as a Saint? Is it even okay to ask?

I have always been proud of my willingness to sacrifice for God (warning bells?). I have always been eager to serve, willing to go the extra step, holding on to even my possessions lightly. I don’t mind (and in some ways dream about) getting the sudden calling; sell everything and go – you’ve been called to an impoverished country to spread the good news. But I’m coming to realize that in my heart, I have been holding back. The thought of sacrificing my family in any way terrifies me. Is this my line? When is the cost too high?

Even since childhood, I have always disliked the story of Abraham and the sacrifice of Isaac. Hated, really, until at least recently when I’ve gained a better understanding of the theology and purposes behind the event. There are plenty of sermons out there that address this story in great detail, covering the symbolisms of God’s sacrifice through Christ, the faith that Abraham had, especially in light of the promise that God had given to him earlier in Genesis. Isaac was the promised child – born to Abraham in his old age – the means to fulfill His promise to multiply Abraham’s family to out number the stars. This was the promised child that God was now asking Abraham to slay (going, by the way, directly against God’s law regarding human sacrifices). Abraham’s final faith rested on one thing – if Isaac were slain, God presumably would raise him from the dead in order to fulfill his promise.

Restrained at the last moment, Abraham was clearly willing to obey God all the way to the end. The substitute was a ram stuck in the thickets and Abraham went away knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could trust God implicitly in obedience. Was the test for God, to see if Abraham was obedient? Or was it for Abraham, to know his own faith? Abraham names the place “The LORD will Provide”… Jehovah-Jireh.

In many ways, I feel that God has put us in a place of sacrifice without our permission or willing participation. God did not come to me and ask me to offer my son on an alter of poor health diagnoses, or potential long term brain damage. Honestly, I would have said no. But here I am – suddenly finding my faith tested and stretched in ways I never considered myself capable of handling. I am finding myself faced with only two choices – turn my back on God in anger, blaming him for the struggles that I now face, for the uncertainty of my own future, or turn towards God and lean on faith.

Here is where I have been surprised by my own actions. By all accounts, I just described to you all the reasons why my most natural reaction should be to curse God and get on with my life – the way that I want to live it. He crossed that line – the “deal” that I made with God that I’ll serve him and do what he wants if he leaves my family alone. Has God not forsaken me in my time of need? And what of my son? What kind of a God would let him be born into this world with the struggles and pain that he has already experienced, let alone what awaits him in the months and years to come? This is my reward for faithfully following?

If, two weeks ago, you’d asked me – do you have the faith to face the loss of your child, coming back from the edge to find a life-long condition and the distinct possibility of permanent damage? I would have answered no. What are the fears we hold dearest? What are those scenarios we play in our minds that are too much to handle? Too terrible to conceive?

It is with great excitement that I write these words now – hopefully I have shared my own frailties enough to be un-prideful and only encouraging. I would describe myself as a man of little faith. I’ve thought that the parable of the mustard seed was a cruel joke – if you have even faith the size of this mustard seed, you can tell this mountain to throw itself into the sea. I would say that my faith is mustard-seed sized. The size of the period at the end of this sentence. I’ve never moved any mountains.

But as I sat in waiting rooms and ICUs for the last few weeks, waiting to hear if my son would live or die, waiting to hear how bad the damage was, waiting to know how irreparably my life had been changed, I dug deep. In the face of adversity and trial far beyond the scope of anything I’d ever experienced, I didn’t question God. At no point did I consider anger with God as a reaction.

I’ve been trying to figure out why. There’s a part of me that almost WANTS to have a good reason to be mad at God.

We know a few things from scripture that we can hold onto both during and in preparation for times like this. God works all things together for the good of those who love him. We will not face a temptation greater than what we can stand up under, or have a way of escape. God knit my son together in the womb. He was sovereign before the foundations of the earth were laid.
But all these things are well and good while the sailing is smooth… that’s never been my worry. Will they hold true when hell breaks loose? I just want to share – as a man who as recently as May 30th doubted – they will hold true.

I have experienced the wonder of having my faith come through for me when I needed it the most. Stretched beyond anything it has ever been required to do, it held strong. I know that I believe what I believe, all the way into my soul. God is king – he is in control, he has a plan for not only my life and my families, but my sons tiny life as well. He gave me a choice – not of obedience in the sacrifice of my son, but of heart response in the face of a sacrifice that was not of my choosing.

I was listening to a country song this morning, a somewhat depressing one about a broken life and broken relationships. One of the lines got to me – “he put the bottle to his head and pulled the trigger”. What is left for me if these trials separate me from God? What kind of wretched man am I of my own strength? I don’t have to work hard to guess. I can’t cope with the things that have happened to us. I’d have to turn to alcohol or drugs or money or whatever else I could find to numb the pain. Turning my back on God means embracing the worst of everything in my life and moving forward with no purpose, no larger picture, no higher goal for the pain, nothing to endure for. Nothing.

Thinking back on those men of faith has been encouraging lately. I think I suffer from saint-hood derangement syndrome. These men are not of a different breed than the rest of us. They have no internal qualities that set them apart from ME. They are men of faith, nothing more. They have faith that is available to ME. I call on the same God that they did, my life is as important to Him as theirs were. And when the chips are down, the faith that I needed was there to pull me through.

This is why we can be joyful in a tough time. This is why I can sincerely say that I am looking forward to the future, no matter what it holds. I am genuinely excited about how God will use our Zeke in the world – not just in our lives, but the lives of those around us. I was reflecting this morning on that very topic. We’ve received letters and emails from people around the world as our fellow Christians pray for and support us. It’s been overwhelming. We’ve received letters from churches underground that could face jail time if their emails to us were intercepted. All they wanted to do was let us know that they were praying to God on our behalf. God challenged me this morning – I suspect that my two-week-old son with apparently no hearing, bleeding time bombs in his head, probable permanent brain damage and a traumatic entry into this world has touched more lives in two weeks that I have in almost 30 years. Is that a sacrifice I can live with? Can I be angry with God for that?

As the days go by, I want to share the specific verses and experiences that have built (and continue building) our faith. I don’t mean by any of this to suggest that things have been easy – quite the contrary. But our confidence in God is unshaken. I don’t doubt that in the coming months and years, my faith will be tested again – and right now, honestly, I can’t handle it. But I know that when the time comes and I have to reach with all I have for the God who loves me, it will be there. That’s the message I want to send out – even if you doubt your faith now. Even if you’ve never had your faith tested in a direct way, one completely out of your control. Even if, deep down in your heart, you think that if you’re tested then you’ll fail. God is faithful. He will sustain you in your faith. When the rubber meets the road, He will come through for you, and you’ll be there waiting for Him. I can’t be more affirmed, not only in my salvation but in my relationship with Christ than to be carried through trial. Do I finally have a glimpse into the heart of Horatio Spafford when he wrote “It is Well With My Soul”?

I can’t wait to see what God does with us on this new road we’ve begun to go down. It’s not even close to over – but the Lord will sustain us. We don’t really have any other choice.

Zechariah 13:9
I will bring them through the fire and make them pure, just as gold and silver are refined and purified by fire. They will call on my name, and I will answer them. I will say, ‘These are my people,’ and they will say, ‘The LORD is our God.’