An old man, 75,
a barren wife,
no earthly hope
for children,
for an heir.
And he’s told
his descendants
will outnumber
the grains of sand
on the seashore.
We might be
excused our smiles,
our doubts, but
even we can see
across two-and-a-half
millennia that it was
his faith that
mattered.
He believed.
He was blessed.
Photograph by Donald Teel via Unsplash. Used with permission.
The inheritance is handed
down from Abraham, a man
whose faith, whose faithfulness,
was credited to him as
righteousness. It began with
him, the man who believed
(not the man who did or
the man who accomplished).
It is this faith which defines
who the sons, the heirs, are.
Nothing else. It is not
obedience to law, it is not
performance, it was nothing
Abraham did, it is nothing
we do. Or can do. We become
the sons of Abraham
by believing, not doing.
Faith first, then all else
follows.
Photograph by Jeremy Bishop via Unsplash. Used with permission.
It’s an ongoing reading
of the will, a daily event
to which all are invited.
The will is read, announcing
the inheritance for the heirs.
It is a will like no other,
read aloud, the words
themselves taking form,
taking life, leaping from
the page to the heart.
The heirs learn what it is
they’re receiving, that
it is not based on what
they did, their deeds and
accomplishments (also
known as the way
of the world, at least
on a good day). Instead,
the inheritance comes
from what they believe.
It is about who they are,
not what they did.
Photograph by Towfiqu barbhuiya via Unsplash. Used with permission.
It is said
that policy is
what you do,
not what you say.
True enough,
except when it
comes to the hope
we have. It’s not
what we do, not
our works, or deeds,
no matter how
spectacular they
might be. And it’s
not what we say,
no matter how
eloquent, how
insightful, how
meaningful.
Instead, it’s
what we believe.
Policy is what
we believe.
Always.
Photograph by Kyle Glenn via Unsplash. Used with permission.
