The story of Abraham’s journey of obedience to sacrifice his son of promise has always intrigued me. I love reading it, thinking about it and seeking to find new depths of truth in it — knowing I’ve really only skimmed the surface. This morning in my reading I found this poem in Charles Stanley’s newsletter and loved it!

Nothing For It

No point trying to sleep that night       Nothing for it but to rise early and saddle the donkey     My son after all was dead     He & I walked beside the beast that bore the wood & the servants who bore the fire     Something must have betrayed me for we talked   not at all   till sundown

On the third day I lifted my eyes to the distant mountain     Here was where the knife must fall     The rest was like a dream     I bound my son who showed complete trust    as I went through the cold motionis of slaughter but my hand was stayed & God showed his provision

On the third day     my son who was dead     was raised again

By D.S. Martin

D.S. Martin’s poetry collection Poiema was a prize winner at the Word Guild Awards. His poems have appeared in Canadian Literature, Christian Century, Relief, Ruminate and many other publications.

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