abraham: childless, after midnight (or the scandal of faith)

I’m scared, Lord. What if that wasn’t your voice I heard? What if this journey I’m on is just my own doing, a combination of wishful thinking and pride? What on earth would make me think that, of all people, you would find it in yourself to bless me in such a special way? Why, Lord? And what if this thought is all wrong? What then?

If none of this is really true, then I’m leading those I love on a fool’s quest. How dare I tell them of the dreams I have! If none of this is true, it’s a betrayal of trust—the trust they’ve put in me. Here we are, out here in the middle of nowhere, risking our very lives—and for what?

“Listen to what God has promised. Listen to what I believe God told me.”

God told me that? You’ve got to be kidding! God told you that? God told you that? God told you that?  How can that possibly be true? You’ve got to be kidding!

I’m scared, Lord. Am I taking advantage—taking for granted the kindness of strangers—not to mention the mercy of the Maker of the Universe, your promise to provide and guide.

And the things I’ve dreamt! How audacious! How presumptuous! What makes me think that I, of all people, could see such dreams come to pass?

I am growing old, too old for such childish games. How long can one go without settling down? And the things you’ve told me would happen—I know I am too old for such things!

This.

Simply.

Does.

Not.

Happen.

Sometimes I wish you had left me alone, Lord. I was fine where I was. I didn’t ask for these dreams. Why, then, did you curse me with this so-called blessing?

I know I should not be so bold as to even think such things—let alone say them!—but I must be honest, Lord: I’m scared. I don’t know what I’m doing!

I’m scared of what others may think. “Him? He’s just a star-gazer! That’s not possible. That’s not possible! He’s a nobody.  A prime example of overestimation if ever I saw one.”

Have I overestimated? What on earth have I done? What on earth am I doing? Where are we and where are you leading? Are you leading? Where are we and are you here?

“Yes.”

I hear a voice inside, speaking back. And that is my problem—that is why I’m scared. If I heard only silence, I’d have no problem. But that voice, that voice! That is my problem. As long as I hear that voice, I am left to wonder if it’s really true or if I’ve just gone mad.

It feels like madness—how could the things I believe be true? How could such things ever happen? Not in my lifetime. Not if I live to be two hundred would such things ever come true.

This is beyond me.

I’m scared, Lord.

But, I’m still walking. Yes, I’ll take the next step. If you lead, I can do that much. I’ll do that much.

Just promise me you won’t leave us…for dead. Just promise…

Because—well, dear God, you know!—this is beyond me. And I’m scared, Lord. But, I’ll walk. I’ll walk, believing.