The Worst Bible Story Ever... Or So I Thought

Have you ever heard the Bible story where God tells Abraham to offer his only son, Isaac, as a sacrifice?

Brutal.

I'm not a Biblical scholar and I make no claim that my interpretation is wholey accurate, so go to Genesis 22 and read it for yourself. This story, it’s not warm or cozy. It’s difficult and unsettling. It hits you like a railroad tie across the face and, relatively speaking, it’s basically at the introduction of the Bible.

I could never wrap my head around this story. The whole thing felt grotesque. Why would a loving God propose such a test to a faithful servant? Especially after promising Abraham descendants as countless as the stars (Genesis 12:1–3; Genesis 15:5)? I’ll be honest: after having my own son, this story went from confusing to unbearable. I didn’t just dislike it, it made my stomach churn. I avoided it. I just could not reconcile a God of love with a God who would say: “Kill the boy you waited your whole life for, the son that you love so much.”

But the other day, I was blessed with an a-ha moment, and something shifted. Suddenly, the text was reframed and I saw a layer to this story that I had been missing.

Abraham Didn’t Obey Bitterly

I had always assumed Abraham trudged up that mountain resentful, angry, heart shattered, bitter, and pleading. I imagined how I would feel, and filled this story with my own reactions and emotions. I read between the lines to instill something that was never there.

Scripture doesn’t say Abraham was bitter. It never says that Abraham hesitated, argued, or complained. Not once. Instead, it says he did what he was told, no delay, no bargaining, no drama. No ifs, ands or buts (Genesis 22:3).

And you know what, he didn't do as he was told because he had to; he had free will. He did what he did because he had faith! He acted because he believed.

I had also *wrongly* assumed that when Isaac asked where the lamb was, that Abraham had lied to spare Isaac’s feelings, to spare them both the torment of honesty. But nope! Wrong again. He said: “God Himself will provide the lamb” (Genesis 22:8).

Abraham wasn’t being reckless. He was convinced that God would provide; Abraham expected provision before he ever saw it.

I did a further deep dive and found Hebrews 11:19, which takes it even further and says: “Abraham reasoned that God could even raise the dead.” It is important to note that nothing like that had ever happened before; Abraham had no reason to believe in resurrection. He walked up that mountain not expecting tragedy but expecting the impossible!

Can you imagine faith like that? Faith that acts before answers arrive. Faith that moves mountains because it knows Who moves them.

God didn’t test Abraham to learn something about him. He already knew Abraham’s heart. The test wasn’t informational for God, it was transformational for Abraham, and thousands of years later, for me.

Isaac Wasn’t a Prop on the Altar

Here’s the part that blindsided me: Isaac wasn’t dead weight in this narrative. He wasn’t a passive child. He was an instrumental participant and an active lead!

Abraham was well over 100-ish years old, and Isaac wasn’t a toddler. Many scholars estimate Isaac to be anywhere from late teens to early 30s. But we at least know that he was old enough and strong enough to carry the wood himself (Genesis 22:6).

In other words, a young, strong man versus an elderly father.

If Isaac didn’t want to climb that mountain, he wouldn’t have. If Isaac didn’t want to lie on that altar, Abraham surely wasn’t able to physically put him there.

So, Isaac cooperated, he submitted. Isaac trusted God just as much as his father did. *Mind blown*

Impact of Generational Faith

Here’s the thing, Isaac didn’t learn this kind of faith from lectures or being preached at. He learned it from seeing it lived out, every single day. He learned it by watching his father acting out faith.

Kids don’t know theology, but they do emulate what they see. They watch and will imitate how they see us act when we’re anxious or afraid, and what we do when plans fall through, how we treat others, and whether we turn to God in prayer as a ritual or in relationship.

Isaac’s faith wasn’t blind. It was inherited through exposure. And our kids won’t become what we tell them to be. They will become what they watch us be.

Whether we know that God will show up, even before there’s evidence to prove it; whether we trust that God will provide, even if it’s hard in the waiting. Cause faith isn’t believing just when it’s easy, nor when we're desperate; Faith is trusting that God is faithful in the easy, the hard, and the impossible, always.

Talk about convicting.

So, it matters that we:

• Trust God when money is tight; so, our kids learn that security isn’t found in bank accounts.
• Repent when we blow it; so, they learn that grace is real.
• Obey when obedience hurts, so they learn that God is worth it.
• Wait when answers to prayer seem to take forever, so we teach that delay isn’t denial. And sometimes, that “no” is the answer, even if we can’t understand why in the moment.

We think love equals safety, comfort, and insulation. But Abraham taught the opposite; he taught that even when God’s path is terrifying, that He is still trustworthy. That sacrifice is normal and that provision comes after obedience, not before.

Isaac didn’t climb the mountain because Abraham forced him to. He climbed because Abraham’s life preached: “If my father will follow this God anywhere, then this God must be worth following.”

Our kids don’t need perfect parents. They need parents whose decisions preach louder than their words.

The Story I Hated Became the Story I Needed

My question used to be: “What kind of God asks a father to sacrifice his son?”

Now I see: “God provides the sacrifice so we don’t have to.”

Sound familiar?

What Does This Mean 

Every single one of us has something on the altar, whether it’s the outcome we insist on, the plans that we have made, the timeline we demand, the way we think things must go. God leads us to the same emotional edge Abraham faced to give us opportunity to lay it down, trusting that what God has for us instead is so much better.

The Legacy I Want for My Child

I don’t want to raise Little Man to be a religious kid, to do right out of a sense of legalism. I want to raise him to trust God even when life doesn’t make sense, to have hope even when circumstances seem dire, to obey even when it costs something, because he knows that God loves him. And finally, for him to believe that God is faithful, not because I told him, but because he saw it.

I can’t control Little Man’s future, and I can’t force him to take the path I would want him to walk, but I can walk my mountain in front of him. I can surround him with people who set examples I want him to see. Abraham did and Isaac saw, and that faith traveled generationally. Abraham set the example for all of his descendants, which are, as promised, as plentiful as the stars in the sky, and include myself and my family, and my children, and their children, and their children….

This was reinforced to me again last night, when we had dinner with a lovely couple who have been faithful believers for decades, and have raised their children, not just telling them how to live faithfully, but showing them. And that in turn has been passed down not just through their own lineage, but through the lines of everyone they meet. It is a real blessing to know them.   

And maybe that’s the real point of Genesis 22: Not a father almost losing a son, but a son, and the generations to come, gaining a God worth following.

A New Chapter: The Fingerprints on Our Story

It’s crazy what you can see with hindsight.....

If you’d told me back in 2018, newly diagnosed with cancer, scared, unsure if I’d even make it to 40, that we’d be where we are today, I wouldn't have believed you.

But that’s the thing about God. He takes what the enemy meant for evil and redeems it. He doesn’t send the cancer, the heartbreak, or the setbacks, but He sure doesn’t waste them.

From the very start, His fingerprints have been all over our story. Some moments were unmistakable. Others I can only see clearly now, looking back.

When I was first diagnosed, I started attending Beaverlodge Alliance. I met men and women of faith who were bold, warm, and full of wisdom, people who spoke truth into my life when I didn’t even realize how much I needed it.

I wrote a couple blog posts about chemo, suffering, hope, and the quiet ways God shows up even in waiting rooms and IV chairs. That writing turned into an unexpected opportunity and opened doors that led to work that challenged and inspired me, as well as introduced me to more amazing people. 

As simple as a thing as following a company on Facebook, led to seeing a job posting for an equipment operator in a totally different field, on a local cattle ranch. Dear Husband applied, got the job, loved it instantly, and still does today. We've been blessed in so many ways through this work.

That one job changed our lives in the best way. Dear Husband went from being gone 15 days at a time in the oil patch, to being home every night; Home to help raise our Little Man, to live the life we’d always longed for. The ranch is family-oriented, rooted, filled with faith, and the kind of place people stick around. Hubby already says this is where you'll find him into retirement.

Most importantly, Dear Husband came to know Jesus. He was baptized and our home is now led in faith. 

After chemo, doctors told us that children wouldn’t be in the cards for us. But God had other plans. I got pregnant naturally, at 40. We sadly didn't even know until I miscarried at 15 weeks. And while we grieved the unborn life we didn't even know we had until it was too late, that experience showed us that pregnancy was possible. At 41, with what my doctor called “the eggs of a 50-year-old," we had a healthy, happy, miraculous son. 

Since then, I’ve grown in my own walk with Christ. I’m learning to hear His voice better; to ask, wait, and discern. To not push through every open door just because it’s there, but to seek His peace above all else.

During our home search, we were sent a listing for nearly a quarter section of land, right in the very neighborhood we’d dreamed of living. It was more than we could afford. But through a generous and unexpected opportunity, we were able to make a deal that will give us 22 beautiful acres and a house and property that are more than we ever dared to ask for. It doesn’t just meet our wishlist, it exceeds it.

We hadn’t even listed our current home yet, but within hours of the offer being accepted on our unicorn property, a couple called for a viewing on our current home. I was overwhelmed, company over, taking a course, the house in chaos. But we said yes. And just like that, our home was as good as sold. No listing. No open houses. No stress.

“Pressed down, shaken together, and running over…” (Luke 6:38) is the only way to describe how we’ve been blessed.

But hear me, this is not because we did anything special. We didn’t earn this. We don’t deserve it more than anyone else. God’s love is not measured by the size of your blessings. If you’re walking through hard things right now, that does not mean He loves you less. I know this because we’ve had our share of hard things too: cancer, miscarriage, the loss of my dad.... But sometimes hard things can shape us, prepare us, or draw us closer to God. Most times, we may not know the reason. He doesn't cause the hard things, but He can use them for His purposes in ways we can't yet see. I pray that you walk through the hard to a time you can look back and see the greater purpose.

I listened to a sermon recently by Steven Furtick called “Let the Dirt Do Its Work,” and it resonated. Seeds grow in the dark and roots form in the unseen. What looks like delay or disappointment is often just preparation. The miracle starts underground, hidden, but it’s working.

• Listen here: 'Let the Dirt Do Its Work' on Spotify or watch on YouTube.

The dirt, both the literal and the unseen “soil seasons” God has walked us through, has been doing its work in us for years. 

So we give thanks for the dirt that grows us, for the wait that humbles us, for the harvest that overflows, for the grace we didn’t deserve, and for the blessings we couldn’t have imagined. We're thankful for the people who have been placed in our path to help us along the way. And for the reminder that God is always good, and always there.

On September 20th we'll move and become renters until the subdivision is finalized (God willing and with the blessing of County council). We look to forward gardening, chickens, trout fishing in our dugout, Little Man playing on the tree swing. Campfires. Fellowship. Greenhouse tomatoes and peppers, picking apples and cherries. Perhaps a Highland cow, and a Dexter Belfair for milk someday. 4H. Learning as we go. Muddy boots on hardwood floors. Barbecue dinners on the deck in the country quiet. Being shaped by the land, the work, through provision and whatever difficulties arise. And thanking Jesus for all of it.

"You can't buy happiness, but you can buy dirt."

"Find the one you can't live without

Get a ring, let your knee hit the ground

Do what you love but call it work

And throw a little money in the plate at church

Send your prayers up and your roots down deep

And add a few limbs to your family tree

And watch their pencil marks

And the grass in the yard all grow up

'Cause the truth about it is

It all goes by real quick

You can't buy happiness

But you can buy dirt

Yeah, you can buy dirt

And thank the good Lord for it

'Cause He ain't makin' any more of it

So buy dirt" 

~ Jordan Davis

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