Give Me Your Son!

To the physical eye, to the natural man, the request/demand of YHWH to Abraham seems senseless, unreal.  Maybe Abraham only imagined that God asked this of him; who can fathom the mind of the Most High? 

But to the person walking in the Spirit, accustomed to prayer and relationship with God, as was Abraham by this point in his life, the request/demand seems "normal."  Which mother or father of faith has not at some point in their lives had to surrender their child into the hands of God, trusting that only He could do for their children what they could not do?

Rather than thinking this was some strange demand from a blood-thirsty and demanding deity, I see this move of God toward a parent as one of consolation and release of anxiety.  We surrender our children in trust, knowing that, no matter what we want, we are not in control of our children's lives.

This morning, I was thinking about 3 women that I know personally, who underwent this agonizing "sacrifice" of surrendering their children into the hands of God.  I am one of the three.  Twice, even three times, have I had to surrender my children to God.  One of my children was very sick often in her young life; at least 3-4 times a year, she would be hospitalized with uncontrollable vomiting.  The doctors were puzzled about the cause---it may have been scarlet fever left over from repeated episodes of strep throat; it may have been appendicitis, it may have been.....who knows?  At one point, six different doctors were trying to find the cause while she was hospitalized--and all six of them were leaving orders to draw blood.  She of course developed a horror of needles. 

One day, during a period of relative calm, when she was healthy for a change, as I was praying during Mass, I had a sense of Jesus approaching me with his arms extended in front of him.  Across his arms lay a child's blanket.  I knew what He wanted: he wanted me to place the child in His arms.  In my mind, I thought that meant she was going to die.  I balked at the request; I did not want to surrender her.  But the love of Jesus for her was so strong that I finally did -- I placed her in His arms.  He turned and walked away with her, and both of them were smiling and laughing, delighted in one another, but leaving me in a heap of tears.  I could hardly breathe, and it was a long time before I could leave church that morning.  But it was done.

Shortly after that experience, the child almost died one night:  "I can't take this anymore," she cried.  The doctor on duty (not familiar with the case) would not allow me to admit her to the hospital, so we had to wait until the office opened in the morning.  Overnight, she had lost 10 pounds, equivalent according to the doctor to an adult losing 30 pounds overnight.  She had been in his office all day the previous day, and we had been sent home, so he knew how much she had lost.

Having surrendered the child to Jesus, as distraught as I was all night, I knew that I was no longer in control.  She was His; He was the one who had to take charge of the situation.  It was out of my hands now. 

Two other friends of mine have experienced similar events.  One of them had a son with a brain tumor.  The other friend's son caused her concern in other areas.  Both of them, after wrestling for awhile with God -- even screaming at Him initially -- eventually surrendered their sons into His hands.  The one with the brain tumor outlived his mother; the other now takes care of his mother. 

"Give Me Your Son!"  Not the demand of an angry God, but the comfort of a God who wants us to know that He  is more able than we are to take care of our children!