Stranger Things, Part 1: The Long Way Up

Up the narrow winding path they went. It was as if he took the longest possible route to get to the top.

Up the narrow winding path they went. It was as if he took the longest possible route to get to the top.

Each step felt like it was measured. Not just in distance, but in heartbreak. He walked not just beside his son—but beside a God who had asked for something that seemed… out of character. Unreasonable. Almost impossible to obey.

Each step felt like it was measured. Not just in distance, but in heartbreak. He walked not just beside his son—but beside a God who had asked for something that seemed… out of character. Unreasonable. Almost impossible to obey.

Isaac was no ordinary child. He was the promise. The long-awaited laughter. The miraculous interruption to years of barrenness. And now, the same God who delivered him was asking that he be laid on an altar—not figuratively, not in poetic surrender, but for real. Wood. Fire. Knife.

Sacrifice him.

Abraham said nothing to Sarah. How could he? What words would explain this without shattering her? So he rose early, split the wood, and took the boy.

The route wasn’t direct. It could’ve been. But Abraham seemed to take the long way. Some scholars say it was to obey God’s timeline. But maybe… maybe it was something else. Maybe the walk was part of the sacrifice. Maybe there’s something about holding tension in your chest for three full days and still choosing to move forward with every step.

On the third day, he saw it—Moriah. And he told the servants to stay behind. “We’ll be back,” he said. That wasn’t lying. That was faith doing math the human brain can’t solve.

Isaac looked around and saw everything but the sacrifice. “Father,” he asked, “where’s the lamb?” And Abraham, this man walking in darkness, still trusting the voice—said what only faith could say: “God will provide Himself a lamb.” He bound Isaac. Laid him on the altar. Raised the knife. Still no lamb. No voice. No intervention. Until the very last second. And then… the call. “Abraham, Abraham! Don’t lay a hand on the boy.” The blade dropped. Not on flesh. On faith’s final test. And behind him, caught in a thicket, was a ram.

Provision. Right on time. Right on the mountain.

It’s easy to focus on the drama of the moment, but there’s something else happening here. This wasn’t just a test. It was a preview. A rehearsal. Because centuries later, another Son would carry wood on His back, up a hill in this same region. And that time, the knife wouldn’t be stopped. There would be no ram. No divine interruption. This time… God would go through with it. Jesus, the true Lamb, would become the sacrifice. And Abraham’s strange story would make sudden, terrible, beautiful sense. So when the instruction doesn’t make sense…
When the walk is longer than you thought it would be. When you feel like you’re losing the very thing God promised you…

Keep walking.

Sometimes, the strangest instructions are how God shows us the deepest truths.
And on the mountain of the Lord…
there’s always a Lamb.

May 4, 2025

"And Abraham called the name of that place Jehovah-jireh: as it is said to this day, In the mount of the Lord it shall be seen." - Genesis 22:14