Walking with Abraham
/ERIN BUCHMANN
PHOTOGRAPHY: JOY-MARIE MENDOZA PHOTOGRAPHY
If you were to ask me on our wedding day whether the story of Abraham and Isaac had anything to do with marriage, I’d have answered no. Yet, a year later, I could not shake this story from my mind. And now, two years after our wedding day, I consider it one of the most profound lessons I’ve learned as a wife.
A year ago, our family was in a season of deep mourning. Two months before, we had buried our son, our only child, whom we’d miscarried. I was still grieving his death acutely and my husband, in addition to being my comforter-in-chief, had also become a sort of mental health guardian for me.
He was the one talking me over the mountains of sadness and offering me his shoulder so I could cry through all the feelings my heart was experiencing. I truly felt that he was in many ways acting as my safety chain: his companionship was keeping me from free-falling off the emotional cliff I was hanging from, keeping me from tumbling down into an abyss of grief.
Please, Lord, I often prayed, don’t take him away from me! If he were to die too, I’d really fall apart emotionally.
Although my husband is the one God has given me to cling to, in good times and in bad ones such as this, in my grief I had begun to cling to him too tightly.
Having experienced the depth of the pain that can accompany the loss of a close family member, I became terrified that God might ask me to go through that agonizing pain of loss again: this time without my husband’s presence and support.
I had, metaphorically, wrapped both my arms around my husband’s waist and positioned myself between him and God, attempting to shield him from the one who holds the keys of death.
Then, out of my prayer walked Abraham. He loved his son Isaac dearly, as I love my husband. And, just as I feared God would ask me, God really did ask Abraham if he would be willing to part with the one he loved!
But whereas I had become fearful of what God might do, Abraham trusted the unsearchable wisdom within His plans.
Even more courageously, he trusted that God had both his good and the good of his precious son in mind. And so, grounded in his faith, he stepped forward: “Early the next morning Abraham saddled his donkey, took with him two of his servants and his son Isaac, and after cutting the wood for the burnt offering, set out for the place of which God had told him.”
When God asked Abraham to fully entrust to him his beloved, he did. Although he still certainly loved Isaac beyond measure, Abraham allowed God to have the ultimate word in determining the course of his son’s life. And everything turned out not merely alright for Abraham, but very good!
“Because you acted as you did in not withholding from me your son, your only one,” God told him, “I will bless you and make your descendants as countless as the stars of the sky and the sands of the seashore; your descendants will take possession of the gates of their enemies, and in your descendants all the nations of the earth will find blessing, because you obeyed my command.”
Here is where I believe the story of Abraham and Isaac has something great to teach us about marriage and family life.
Like Abraham, I believe God wants to teach us not only to trust His plans, but also to entrust the lives and even the salvation of our loved ones to him. Abraham’s experience shows us that God has the best interests of both us and our loved ones in mind. We need not fear Him.
This is the challenge put to us by Abraham’s example: will we let God love our spouse even more than we do?
What if what is best for his salvation is death at a young age, a return to God sooner than we hope? If this is what God asks of us, are we willing to surrender our beloved to His embrace instead of our own?
The same challenge holds with regard to our children. Are we willing to entrust them to God’s loving care, even if this means accompanying them through great sickness or suffering, or promising them on their deathbed that we will never forget them? What if God desires to hold our unborn child first?
Today, two years after our wedding day, one year after my encounter with Abraham, I sit writing and holding our sleeping daughter, our rainbow baby.
Throughout my pregnancy with her, memories of our son’s death and fears that we would not get to meet her on this side of heaven would often surface in my mind.
But, to my amazement, responding to these fears with a prayer of entrustment really helped me remain calm, hopeful, and grounded in God, like Abraham was.
Often this prayer was simple: God, I know you love our daughter even more than we do. I don’t ask that you keep her alive, because you know what is ultimately best for her, but please shelter her in your arms and protect her from all evil.
As my pregnancy progressed and I entrusted her more and more to God, I found that I became not detached from her but instead much more able to bond with her and embrace every moment I was given to share with her on earth.
Eventually, I even became able to act with faith, as Abraham did when he saddled his donkey. I became able to prepare materially for her birth, something I had been reluctant to do out of fear that she, like our son, might die before we met.
I encourage you to consider accepting Abraham’s challenge. I hope that you too find tremendous peace and strength in entrusting to God the people you love most dearly, remembering always that He loves them even more.
About the Author: Erin Buchmann enjoys morning walks, quiet evenings at home, and knitting whenever she can find the time...and two free hands. She and her husband are the parents of two little miracles and guardians of one little cat.