I have been fascinated by stars, planets and outer space since I was a little child. Maybe it was because Neil Armstrong landed on the moon days after my fourth birthday, I’m not sure. But when I was six and had a choice between a bicycle and a telescope for my birthday present, I took the ‘scope and never regretted it!

There is a story in the Bible that features stars that my thoughts are drawn to often. In the book of Genesis, the fifteenth chapter, God appears to Abraham (Abram at the time) and says, “I am your shield and your exceeding great reward.” In other words, “I will protect you and whatever you need, you can have it by asking Me.”

I’m blown away by the offer. The God of all creation basically saying, “I’ve got your back every way you need it.” Even more mind blowing is Abraham’s response: “What can You give me, since I remain childless…”. Wow. In other words, “thanks, God, but if You can’t give me a child, there’s nothing you’ve got I care to ask for.” I don’t know whether to be more shocked by his boldness to come right out there with it, or by God’s loving and generous response to it. In verse four of the same chapter, God promises Abraham: “…a son who is your own flesh and blood will be your heir.” Here’s where the stars come in. Then God says, “Look up at the sky and count the stars – if you can; so shall your offspring be.”

It might be difficult to grasp this demonstration God is trying to get across to Abraham in our air polluted, light polluted modern skyline. I’ve been in the Negev of Israel on a kibbutz where they turn the power off at night. The sky lights up so brightly you can safely see to walk without the aid of the moon. You would have to see it with your own eyes, but having done so, for me it makes the creation story of stars in Genesis chapter one more understandable. In verse fifteen, speaking of them as He was creating them, God said, “and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth.” And it was so. It still was on that autumn evening in Israel in 1990 and it still is to this day.

The Bible lets us know that God made this promise to Abraham when he was seventy-five years old, and when he was one hundred, Isaac, the promised heir was born to Abraham by Sarah, his wife. For twenty-five years, Abraham must have looked up in that sky at those stars and recalled God’s promise. Genesis 15:6 says that he completely believed God when He promised.

Fast forward some number of years when God again speaks to Abraham in Genesis chapter twenty-two and tells him to “take your son, your only son, whom you love – Isaac – and go to the region of Moriah (modern-day Jerusalem where the Hebrew Temples stood in Bible times). Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you.”

I can’t imagine Abraham’s initial thoughts and emotions at such a request from God. The thing he wanted most, the thing he said if God didn’t give him, nothing He could give him would much matter to him – God was asking Abraham to give that up as an offering. When I quiet my mind and try to put myself in Abraham’s place, tears come to my eyes. How soul crushed he must have felt. Not to mention the seeming inhumanity of the request. By all appearances it went against everything Abraham must have thought and believed about God.

What is more astounding to me is after God’s request to Abraham, the very next verse – verse three – in chapter twenty-two of Genesis says, “Early the next morning Abraham got up…”. From everything the Bible recounts to us, he wasted no time in obeying God. It absolutely staggers my imagination.

Remember those stars? While the Bible doesn’t say it, and I’ll never be able to prove it, I am willing to bet that Abraham didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. I’m willing to bet he sat out in front of his tent with the household and the servants asleep. The animals all fed and resting in their pens and stalls – everything hushed beyond quietness and settled into absolute silence. And he stared at those stars. Maybe he even tried to count them. God knows, that’s what I’d have done. Just trying to understand, to get past the “why’s” and “how’s” that his daddy-heart had to be screaming in his mind.

What happened between that night and the next morning? We will never know because the Bible doesn’t tell us. But for twenty-five years, he looked up at those stars every single night of his life. It only rains about an inch a year in the Negev; there aren’t a lot of cloudy days, and twenty-five years is over nine thousand nights of looking at stars beyond measuring.

I believe that fateful night in question was the least glorious and most stressful night of them all. Nine thousand times he looked up and remembered God’s promise, maybe even offered a trusting prayer of thanksgiving for the child yet to be born with joyful anticipation in his daddy-heart. But this night. I can’t imagine the torture.

Until…

Something changed inside of Abraham as he stared at those stars. Something broke in his heart of hearts. He remembered not just the asking of God, but the God of the asking. More importantly, he remembered the God of the promising. He remembered His goodness in fulfilling His promise. And I think he settled something there before God and His stars. I know he did because he got up the next morning and saddled up his donkey, took two servants along with his son and set out. He didn’t have the stars anymore, but he had something bigger. He remembered what the stars meant: “A son who is your own flesh and blood will be your heir. Look up at the sky and count the stars – if you can; so shall your offspring be.” He didn’t need to see the stars on the outside anymore, they were settled in his heart and in his mind. Those stars were brighter on the inside of Abraham than they could ever be to the eyes. God was either the God of promise, or He was a liar, and Abraham bet everything on the former.

There are only two recorded statements that Abraham made on the way to sacrifice his son to God. The first was when he told the servants to “stay here with the donkey while the boy and I go over there. We will worship and then we will come back to you.” The second was when Isaac noticed that Abraham had brought wood and fire only and asked, “where is the lamb for the burnt offering?”, to which Abraham replied, “God Himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.”

I cannot tell you exactly what happened on that last night outside his tent, before the stars in Abraham’s heart. There is no record of God speaking to him, comforting him, or aiding him in any other way after making His request. Between that night and the three-day journey to the mountain, Abraham had settled to his satisfaction that God would honor His word. His own speaking proves it. WE WILL come back to you. GOD WILL provide the lamb.

We know the end of the story; the angel of God stayed Abraham’s hand. As Abraham had prophesied, a ram was caught in a thicket and he sacrificed him to God, and Abraham and Isaac returned to the servants and went back home.

I’ve had to settle some things in my heart concerning promises God has made to me. I’ve had to endure some difficult, sleepless nights; worrying thoughts and anxiousness. I’ve wondered whether some things in my circumstances would ever change. Things I have believed for, dreamed of for so many years – even decades. Sometimes, the weight of those anxious moments felt so crushing, I just wanted to run away from everything.

But just recently, I looked up at the stars again. No, not literally like Abraham might have done. The promises God has made to me. Things He has said, things he has shown me. And then, I looked past them. And I saw Him again. It is so easy to get bogged down in the promises of God. Sometimes, we end up forgetting the God of the promises. We pine and fuss and kick and moan in our impatience and selfishness – at least I do. But there, all along He was waiting. “…for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you, He will never forsake you,” He promises this in the book of Deuteronomy.

So I challenge you, dear reader, today. Look up at the stars tonight, however many and however bright they may be. If you can’t see them all, it’s okay – you know they are there. They aren’t the important part. Once you’ve given them a really good looking over, then look past them. Look to the One who made them. They are lights in the sky to give light on the earth. His light, His promise, His wisdom, His provision, His assurance. He didn’t leave Abraham, He hasn’t left me, He hasn’t left you.

He never will.