A Delicious Irony

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes. - Marcel Proust

The story of Abraham and his son Isaac exemplifies how a person can hang on and let go at the same time.

God made an ironclad promise to Abraham. He told him he would be the father of many nations and his descendants would outnumber the stars.

What’s more, God told Abraham that Isaac would be the medium through which this promise would be fulfilled.

At some point during Isaac’s life, however, the Almighty commanded Abraham to offer Isaac as a sacrifice—literally!

For certain, Abraham found himself locked on the horns of a dilemma.

Scripture tells us that Abraham obeyed. He let go of his most precious gift—his son. Abraham surrendered Isaac to God.

Yet at the same time, Abraham didn’t give up on God or His promise. He hung on to both.

Hebrews 11 explains how:

By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had embraced the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, even though God had said to him, “It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.” Abraham reasoned that God could even raise the dead, and so in a manner of speaking he did receive Isaac back from death. 

Abraham let go of Isaac but hung on to God, believing that the Lord would raise Isaac from the dead after Abraham killed him.

This was an outrageous test of faith, the trial of Abraham’s life.

But as I contemplated this story during one of my morning prayer walks in the cool fall Florida weather, it suddenly dawned on me how a person can let go and hold on at the same time.

It’s an uncommon paradox, a delicious irony.

These two spiritual impulses—hanging on and letting go—are always in constant collision.

To put it succinctly, Abraham let go of Isaac 1.0. But he had faith that God would raise his son from the dead, giving him Isaac 2.0.

Of course, the Lord stopped Abraham before he lowered the knife, so Isaac didn’t need to be raised from the dead. But in the mortal danger of our own adversities, we must hang on and let go before we’ll see our resurrection.

In the following chapters, I’ll explore the principle of hanging on. Then I’ll shift gears and discuss the critical lesson of letting go.

But know this: It is by hanging on and letting go that God has turned all of my trials into treasures, my pain into pearls, my suffering into service, and my burdens into beauty.

And He wants to do the same for you.