God is the sudden appearance of warmth and light. The mountain is silent. The wind has stopped. The sun is bright yellow in the billowing high mountain fog.
Abrham collapses. His legs no longer support his weight.
His breath is haggard and his vision blurs.
At the end, despite the beautiful passage of the sun, his life has gone dark. He feels regret and loneliness.
The screaming lament of his son, who is secured to the flattop rock with woven hemp rope, disappears behind the ringing in his ears.
And Gods voice speaks to him from his memory, kill your son.
But Abrham cannot.
And now something is wrong inside his chest. He feels broken.
He reaches a shaking fist and unties the rope fastened around his son’s writhing body, freeing him.
Abrham watches the boy bound off the rock and escape down the mountain.
Issiak turns. They lock eyes. There is hate on his son’s face mixed with fear and distrust.
“But God told me to,” he calls after his only child, but his voice is breathless, and he knows not whether his son hears him beg. He knows it will make little difference. He is now dead to the boy. Nothing will ever bring back his child’s trust.
He would have followed through with it, his love of God made that certain, but maybe God made him too weak to fulfill his promise, maybe that means God finds him too weak to love now.
The Rabbi says, everything has meaning, but what is the meaning behind him being too weak to fulfill God’s wishes?
“Don’t worry old man, God still loves you.” The voice is like music. A stringed instrument being strummed lightly. Abrham looks for the source and he finds he is all alone. As when God visited him there was no presence just a voice.
“Are you God?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know what God intends?” his voice is barely a whisper.
The harmonic song returns, “because there is no God, but the God in yourself. Have faith in yourself. You sought to sacrifice Issak for Abrham and now in death, you will know your God. Be true to yourself. Do not on to other’s as you would not have done onto yourself.”
Abrham nods and tries to stand but his knees fail his weight and his head swims. He collapses backward and lands painfully on the rocky ground.
“Goodbye, shepherd,” and the warm light pouring through the clouds disappears.
Suddenly he feels very cold.
He shivers and looks down to find his fist wrapped around the handle of his dagger buried to the hilt in his own breast. Blood blossoms into a stain on his wool robes. As he takes his last breath he feels a love like he never felt in his life then feels nothing ever again.
by MHandt
Stories 