Marriage Moats-I Want What I Want
Published: Sun, 04/07/13
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 When I am feeling gypped I often drift back to the story of Abraham being asked to sacrifice Isaac on a pile of stones.
Take now your son, your
only son Isaac, whom you love, and go into the land of Moriah;
and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains of which
I will tell you. Genesis 22
Abraham wanted his son, the flesh of his own body born to his laughing wife Sarah when he was a hundred years young. But God Almighty commanded him to trek three days up a mountain and lay that boy down to die. The text does not include any flourishes about how Abraham felt, so it is easy to insert my own response. I bet he was angry. Disappointed. Reluctant. Scared. Cynical. Sad.
Yet he kept walking. Trusting that the God who handed this precious child into his empty arms and now threatened to snatch him away had a plan. Paradoxically Abraham still loved his son, even as he put one sandaled sandy foot in front of the other, a knife swinging from his belt. Trudging toward goodbye, he held tightly to a yearning for his son. I don't want to spoil the ending for you, but it's good. There is a rescue in the eleventh hour, and Isaac lives to sashay down the mountain, probably skipping with joy.
But Abraham doesn't know that, and I don't either as I take tentative steps toward the uncertainty looming ahead of me. Which leaves me heavy with wanting. I may or may not get my desires, but one thing is sure. I get to keep my wanting. Abraham was not asked to stop loving his firstborn. Only to give him back. There is a difference. I get to love my dreams, my hopes for my children and my marriage. And maybe in the end I will be as blessed as Abraham, his arms around Sarah. And both of them are laughing.
Photo by Joy Feerrar
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