My daughter, Piper, is in her vastly frustrating– yet slightly endearing– headstrong toddler phase. Each day is an exhausting cycle of asking her a million times to do or not do something, chasing her from one side of the house to the other, and talking her through some big emotions.

One of her new favorite things to do is to help mommy or daddy cook meals at the stove. Tonight, I was preparing a dinner of shrimp tacos and rice. While I was cutting up vegetables, she pulled up her stool and started trying to help. She grabbed for the knife, which started a conversation of how she’s not really ready for that part yet and she can get hurt if she doesn’t wait until she gets older. Next, she started playing with the elements on the stove. I asked her not to play with them because she doesn’t know which one is on and if she touches one that’s hot she can get burned.

Dear God,

Thank you for being everything I’ve ever needed. Thank you for being my friend when I am lonely, my heavenly father when I need guidance and direction, the lover of my soul when I need to be held and seen, my shield when I need to be protected, and my defender in times of fear and uncertainty. You have never let me down or given me a reason to not trust you.

Let’s be real: How many of us really read those introductions to the various letters in the Bible? Do we read them with the intent to get something out of it, or do we gloss over them and jump right into the thick of it? I always try, and I mean really try, to break those opening sentences down. I admit, it can be really hard to do, mostly because they can be long, run-on sentences, and truthfully, most of them say the same thing: Grace and peace be with you. It’s always something along those lines.

Just put yourself in this story for a moment. This passage is found in Exodus 12, which is the passage where God gives Israel instructions on the first Passover. So imagine, for just a moment, that you have been a slave all your life. You’ve broken your back building cities and monuments to kings and people that have abused and mistreated you. This slavery has been going on for generations… well before you were born. At this point, there is no before. This role and existence is all you’ve ever known.

I have to say, one of my favorite things about this story is not just the amazing faith seen from both Abraham and Isaac, but the way that this story– found in one of the first chapters we ever see of scripture– is soobviously a story about Jesus at the beginning of it all. Do you see it? If not, read today’s verses again. Because in every way it can be, this story is a tit for tat retelling of the story of Jesus’ ultimate work on the cross– more than 30 generations before it ever happened.

Last week we took a look at the story of Abraham’s test of faith in offering up his son to God as a sacrifice. We really combed through how Abraham’s faith had to be tested and strengthened to get to a place of blind faith and impossible obedience. But this week, I want to talk about Isaac and his own insane faith, because nowhere in the text does it say that Isaac cried out, let alone fought off or questioned his father. Everyone can take a look at Abraham and say, “Wow, his faith is amazing that he would give his only, beloved son to God like that.” But I don’t think Isaac gets enough recognition for the faith it would take in God to offer up our own life and trust that God would take care of it.

I think one of my favorite things about Abraham was how imperfect he was. The founder of faith itself was an imperfect person. To me, when I really see that, it encourages me that I can have earth-shaking faith, even when I think I’m failing. I mean, think about it. Abraham, over the course of 10 chapters of the Bible, evolves from an ordinary man picked from the masses with a weak faith and a large ego to someone who God Himself created a covenant with and made the faith we all cling to possible.

As a youth leader, sometimes you think that the young adults you spend every Friday night with miss it. It’s easy to think that you’re not reaching them because they don’t always verbalize or visibly respond to the Jesus you’re always trying to pour into them. And then, sometimes, they come out with some amazing one-liner that makes you feel like the student and them the teacher.

Ask my parents: when I was a kid, I was not opposed to sharing– except when it came to food. Every night, I’d sit down at the kitchen table, turn on some cartoons, and indulge in a snack time before going to bed. And when punishments for bad behavior were in order, I’d rather be spanked than have my snack time taken from me.