Today’s writing was done by Julie’s daughter, Kendal.

Abraham laid his son on the altar and raised the knife. 

Willing to sacrifice the one thing he prayed for all his life. 

A burnt offering to God. A testament of his faith. Isacc’s recognition when he saw his father’s face. 

Yet Isacc’s life was saved by his father’s belief. I can only imagine the extent of Abraham’s relief. 

The debt of human sin remained unpaid. Whose life would this debt claim? 

But God himself would provide the Lamb for the burnt offering. For He gave His son. The debt was paid, and the war was won. 

Maybe God spared Isacc because He too knew the pain of a father. For He also sacrificed His only son at the altar.

I wrote this poem with the intention of portraying the love of a father. Not just the love that Abraham had for his son, but also the love that our Heavenly Father has for each of us. If you read my Mother’s Day poem, then you probably noticed that it also mentioned sacrifice. I did this unintentionally but, upon reflection, I realized I could think of no greater word to describe a parent than sacrifice. To be a parent is to sacrifice. I would like to think that sacrifice and love go hand in hand. I would even argue that you cannot have love without sacrifice and vice versa. To love is to sacrifice and to sacrifice is to love. To be a parent is to love.