Isaac, Abraham,
Worship the I AM;
Thicket, and a ram,
Submit to His plan.
Do I, as some say,
Hold tight what I should slay?
Raise high, elevate,
Not knife, but my way?
Wood, rope, fire in hand,
Angel spoke, "Abraham!
Your hope is My plan,
Use the rope on the ram!"
Ram's horn caught in dread,
Sin's thorn crowned the head,
Raised sword drew up red,
Guilt blood in Isaac's stead.
"I give what I love,
Now lift, offer up
Ev'ry gift, it's enough;
And live in My love."
"Father, here's my life,
Offered day and night!
Spared for heaven's light,
Suffer me this right!"
Isaac, Abraham,
Thicket, and a ram,
Tasked with His command;
"It is finished!" cried the Lamb.
Thing is-
Some say
of something they know should be let go, "A trial like this
feels like it's
title fits
my Isaac." Word is writ, of ram in thick, of Abraham's pile of sticks;
And I must say,
there's no way that I am as Abraham!
Thing is-
Some say
of something they know should be let go, "A trial like this
feels like it's
title fits
my Isaac." Word is writ, of ram in thick, of Abraham's pile of sticks;
And I must say,
there's no way that I am as Abraham!
written by: Carolyn-Elizabeth Roehrig
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