I can imagine that one night the old patriarch retired worn out and weary. The boy had gone fast to sleep, when suddenly a heavenly messenger came and told him that he must take that boy off on to a mountain that God was to show him, and offer him up as a sacrifice. No more sleep that night! If you had looked into that tent the next morning I can imagine that you would have seen the servants flying round and making preparations for the master’s taking a long journey. He perhaps keeps the secret locked up in his heart, and he doesn’t tell even Sarah or Isaac. He doesn’t tell the servants, even the faithful servant Eliezer, what is to take place. About nine o’clock you might have seen those four men—Abraham, Isaac and the two young men with them—start off on the long journey. Once in a while Abraham turns his head aside and wipes away the tear. He doesn’t want Isaac to see what a terrible struggle is going on within. It is a hard battle to give up his will and to surrender that boy, the idol of his life. Oh, how he loved him!
I can imagine the first night. The boy soon falls asleep, tired and weary with the hot day’s journey, but the old man doesn’t sleep. I can see him look into the face of the innocent boy, and say:
“Soon my boy will be gone, and I will be returning without him.”
Perhaps most of the night his voice could have been heard in prayer, as he cries to God to help him; and as God had helped him in the past so God was helping him that night.
The next day they journeyed on, and again a terrible conflict goes on. Again he brushes away the tear. Perhaps Isaac sees it, and says:
“Father is going away to meet his God, and the angels may come down and talk with him as at Hebron. That is what he is so agitated about.”
The second night comes, and the old man looks into that face every hour of the night. He sleeps a little, but not much, and the next morning at family worship he breaks down. He cannot finish his prayer.
They journey on that day—it is a long day—and the old patriarch say: “This is the last day I am to have my boy with me. To-morrow I must offer him up; to-morrow I shall be without the son of my bosom.”
The third night comes, and what a night it must have been! I can imagine he didn’t eat or sleep that night. Nothing is going to break his fast, and every hour of the night he goes to look into the face of that boy, and once in a while he bends over and kisses him, and he says:
“O Isaac, how can I give thee up?”