This week’s message, “Trusting God Before You See the Answer,” explores Genesis 22:1–14 and invites us to reflect on what it means to trust God when His plan doesn’t seem to make sense. Through Abraham’s greatest test of faith, we’re reminded that God often provides what we need before we ever see it. Ultimately, this story points us to Jesus Christ—the perfect sacrifice and God’s greatest provision for the world. Whether you’re watching from home or on the go, we’re glad you’re here.

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TRANSCRIPT:

Trusting God Before You See the Answer

Genesis 22:1–14

June 28, 2026

Scripture Reading: Genesis 22:1–14.

A Difficult Passage

There are some passages of Scripture that immediately bring comfort. This isn’t one of them.

Genesis 22 is disturbing. It’s distressing. It’s one of those passages that makes us uncomfortable almost immediately. As we read it, questions begin piling up. How could God ask Abraham to do this? Why would God ask such a thing? How could Abraham even consider obeying?

The story is remarkable not only for what it says but also for what it doesn’t say. We hear none of Abraham’s emotions. We hear no argument. We hear no protest.

That’s especially striking because Abraham isn’t afraid to question God. Earlier in Genesis, he negotiated with God over the fate of Sodom: “What if there are fifty righteous people? Forty-five? Forty? Thirty? Twenty? Ten?” Abraham was willing to wrestle with God then.

But here? Nothing.

God gives the command, and the very next thing we read is that Abraham gets up early the next morning and begins the journey. That silence is almost as unsettling as the command itself.

A Test, Not a Temptation

The text tells us why this happens. It says that God tested Abraham. Knowing that doesn’t necessarily make the story easier, but it does matter.

A test is very different from a temptation. Those are two completely different ideas. Temptation tries to lead us toward sin. A test reveals something about us.

Tests show where we are. Teachers give tests to discover whether we’ve learned the material. Athletes test themselves to see whether they’re prepared. Life often tests us to reveal how we’ve grown.

Genesis tells us this was a test.

At first glance, it appears to be a test of obedience. But the more I sit with this passage, the more I think it’s really a test of trust.

Abraham already had a long history of obedience. When God first called him to leave everything familiar and travel to an unknown land, Abraham went. Again and again throughout his life, Abraham demonstrated obedience.

What God seems to be testing here is something even deeper. Do you trust Me? Will you trust My character even when you don’t understand My command?

Later we’re told that Abraham feared God. That word “fear” deserves an entire sermon of its own. In the Old Testament, fearing God doesn’t simply mean being frightened or terrified. It means standing in awe. It means reverence. It means recognizing who God is and responding with humble trust.

This test reveals that kind of faith.

Walking Up the Mountain

So Abraham gathers everything he needs. He saddles his donkey. He takes two servants. He brings Isaac. Together they begin the journey toward Moriah.

As the story unfolds, the tension keeps building. Yet I believe Abraham expected God to intervene somehow.

Some commentators argue that Abraham was simply misleading the servants when he told them, “The boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you.” I don’t think that’s what’s happening. I think Abraham genuinely believed that somehow both of them would return.

That same confidence appears again as they climb the mountain.

Isaac notices something is missing. “Father?” “Here I am, my son.” “The fire is here. The wood is here. But where is the lamb?” Abraham answers with remarkable confidence: “God himself will provide the lamb.” Even then, Abraham trusted that somehow God would remain faithful. He didn’t know how. He simply believed that God would.

The Ram in the Thicket

Finally they reach the place God had shown them. Abraham builds the altar. He arranges the wood. He binds Isaac.

Just as Abraham reaches for the knife, God intervenes. The angel of the Lord calls out, “Abraham! Abraham!” and everything changes.

When Abraham looks up, he sees a ram caught in the thicket. That detail has always stood out to me. The ram wasn’t created at that moment. It was already there. Abraham simply hadn’t seen it yet. God had already provided what was needed before Abraham even knew where to look.

I think that’s often how God’s provision works in our own lives. Sometimes the answer has already been prepared. Sometimes God has already gone ahead of us. We just haven’t recognized it yet.

When God’s Promise and Circumstances Don’t Seem to Match

There’s another reason this story creates such tension.

God had already made an extraordinary promise to Abraham. He promised descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky. That promise seemed impossible when Abraham and Sarah were young. It seemed almost laughable when they were old. In fact, Sarah laughed when God announced she would have a son.

Yet God kept His promise. Isaac was born.

Now the very child through whom that promise would be fulfilled appears to be the one God is asking Abraham to surrender.

How can both things be true? How can God promise descendants through Isaac and then command Abraham to sacrifice him?

I think moments like that still happen in our lives. Sometimes we hold tightly to God’s promises, yet our present circumstances seem to contradict them. We find ourselves asking, “God, how can this possibly be Your will? How can this lead to what You promised?”

Those are often the moments when faith grows deepest. Not because we understand everything, but because we continue trusting the One who made the promise.

Absolutely. I was still erring on the side of preserving every thought. For publication, I’d smooth it further so it reads like a polished transcript while still sounding like Pastor John. Think of it as what you’d find in a published collection of sermons.

Seeing the Ram in the Thicket

One of the reasons this passage resonates so deeply with me is that I’ve experienced a few “ram in the thicket” moments in my own life. There have been times when God’s promises seemed clear, yet the circumstances in front of me didn’t make sense. I found myself wondering how what God had promised could possibly come to pass.

One of the earliest examples happened during the summer between graduating from college and beginning seminary. Some people take a gap year. I didn’t take a gap year—I just took my bachelor’s degree a little slower than most! But I did have a gap summer, and during that time I became convinced that God was calling me into ministry.

At the time I was deeply involved in youth ministry, and I absolutely loved working with students. Ironically, I had never attended church camp as a child. My first experience came later when I served as a camp counselor. Churches from around the presbytery would send pastors and volunteers to serve alongside a small paid staff, and I discovered how much I loved that kind of ministry.

When that summer arrived before seminary, I applied for three different camp counselor positions through the Presbyterian Church’s volunteer mission program.

I didn’t get any of them.

Instead, an opportunity came along that I hadn’t expected at all. I was invited to spend the summer as a missionary in Alaska.

Our team would travel from community to community leading Vacation Bible Schools, often in places where there was little or no established church. Everything we needed had to fit into two backpacks—one held our personal belongings, and the other contained all of our ministry supplies.

One of the villages we served had only about sixty residents. There wasn’t an organized church building—just two faithful women who met together to study Scripture. They had asked the presbytery to send someone to lead Vacation Bible School for the children in their community.

That someone turned out to be us.

We arrived by floatplane because there wasn’t another practical way to get there. The pilot landed on the water, unloaded our backpacks onto the dock, and then took off again. Suddenly four of us were standing there alone.

I had a note card with one person’s name, an estimate of how many children might attend, and everything I owned for the summer on my back. We watched the plane disappear into the distance and looked at each other thinking, I sure hope someone comes to meet us.

There weren’t even cars in town. We ended up borrowing a wheelbarrow to haul our supplies to the house where we would be staying. We returned it later, but in that moment it felt like one more reminder that if this summer was going to work, God would have to provide every step of the way.

Looking back now, it was an incredible adventure of faith. I had never really traveled on my own before, and suddenly I was serving in remote communities across Alaska, trusting God one day at a time.

There was just one problem. It was expensive.

The airline ticket alone stretched my budget, and serving all summer meant giving up the income I could have earned before starting seminary. I’d love to tell you this is the story of my great Abraham-like faith—that whenever someone asked how I was going to pay for everything, I confidently replied, “The Lord will provide.”

That isn’t what happened. When people asked, my honest answer was, “I don’t know.”

My parents helped with the airfare, and I did what I could financially, but there was still a significant gap. I wasn’t overflowing with confidence. I simply believed that serving in mission was what God was calling me to do, so I kept moving forward.

Looking back, I think that’s often what faith looks like. It isn’t pretending we have all the answers. It isn’t acting as though we never have questions. Sometimes faith is simply taking the next faithful step while trusting that God will meet us along the way.

The day before I left for Alaska, my pastor asked me to stop by the church. We visited for a while, talked about the trip, and then he slid an envelope across his desk.

“I have something for you,” he said. When I opened it, I was shocked. Inside was a check that more than covered my travel expenses.

Without my knowledge, the church had sent a letter to the congregation explaining my mission trip and inviting people to help support it. The congregation responded generously. The youth group held a going-away party. People donated supplies. One of our youth leaders even loaned me a beautiful 35-millimeter camera for the summer. Looking back, I think she had more faith than I did.

Again and again, God provided through His people.

One story from that season has stayed with me ever since. A parent later told me about her young son, who kept his allowance and spare change in a jar. One day she found him sitting at the kitchen table with all his coins spread out in front of him, carefully separating a small pile.

She asked, “What are you doing?” He smiled and said, “These are for John’s mission trip.” That little boy gave from what little he had, and I can honestly tell you that his gift traveled with me all the way to Alaska.

Sometimes the greatest reminders of God’s faithfulness come through the smallest acts of generosity.

Excellent. I think we’ve found the right editorial voice.

Finding God’s Provision in Unexpected Places

One memory from that Alaska summer has stayed with me for years.

Before I left, while I was meeting with my pastor, he reached into his pocket and handed me a small aluminum cross. It wasn’t expensive or ornate—just a simple little cross with a stamped design. I asked if there was a story behind it.

He smiled and said, “No. I just want you to carry this with you as a reminder of where your strength comes from.” So I slipped it into my pocket.

A week later, after we had finished training in Juneau, I found myself boarding a ferry to begin our first assignment. Until then, the whole experience had felt exciting. We had spent our days training, meeting other volunteers, and exploring Alaska. It almost felt like an adventure.

But as the ferry pulled away, everything suddenly became real. I walked by myself along the deck, and for the first time I began wondering what I had gotten myself into.

There were no cell phones. Many of the villages we were serving barely had telephones. One community had a single phone booth at the end of the dock, and only a handful of homes even had landlines. Most people communicated by CB radio.

Standing there, I began asking myself all kinds of questions. “What if something goes wrong? What if I’m in over my head? What have I gotten myself into?”

It was one of those moments when anxiety begins to overwhelm you. Then I reached into my pocket. My fingers touched that little aluminum cross. Immediately I remembered my pastor’s words. You’re not alone.

Your strength doesn’t come from you. God is with you. That simple little cross became exactly the reminder I needed.

A Familiar Reminder

As I was preparing this sermon, that memory came back to me.  To be honest, this sermon was a difficult one to write. Some passages come together quickly. This one didn’t.

I stayed up later than I intended the night before, still wrestling with it. I woke up two hours before my alarm and couldn’t get back to sleep. I kept replaying the sermon in my mind, wondering if I should approach it differently or say something another way.

Even Sunday morning, I still didn’t feel settled. I was getting dressed, deciding what to wear, when I reached into the pocket of one of my jackets.

There was something inside.

Some of you may remember that a few weeks ago, during the children’s message, one of our kids handed me a tiny little Jesus figurine. Apparently I had forgotten it was still in my pocket.

The moment I felt it in my hand, I couldn’t help but laugh.  It reminded me immediately of that little aluminum cross from years ago in Alaska.

Once again, in the middle of my uncertainty, God was gently reminding me that I wasn’t walking into this alone.  Sometimes His encouragement comes in surprisingly small ways.

An Unexpected Conversation

Like most Sunday mornings, I stopped at Seven Brew before coming to church.

If someone ever writes my biography, they might say, “He went to Seven Brew on Sunday mornings, as was his custom.”  The young woman working the window that morning knows me well enough to ask how sermon preparation was going.

She smiled and asked, “Are you feeling ready for today?”  I laughed. “Not really.” That opened the door to a conversation.

I told her that over the years preaching has changed for me. The preparation is still important. I had been working on this sermon for nearly two weeks.  But somewhere along the way I realized that sermon preparation isn’t only about studying the text. It’s also about arriving at the right place spiritually. I want my heart to be in the right place before I stand in the pulpit.

That morning, I just wasn’t there yet.  She listened quietly and then said something remarkably simple.  “You just need to trust and relax. God will take care of it. God will provide.”

I smiled because I realized that, in that very moment, He already had.  

Sometimes God’s provision isn’t dramatic.

Sometimes it isn’t a check in the mail or an unexpected opportunity.

Sometimes it’s simply the right words from the right person at exactly the right time.

God had used a conversation over coffee to give me exactly what I needed before worship began.

The Many Ways God Provides

Later that same day, we were sharing lunch with the missionary from Honduras who had visited our church. As we talked, he shared story after story about God’s faithfulness.

He and his wife have three children. Choosing missionary service wasn’t something they did as young adults with very little responsibility. They stepped into that calling as parents, trusting God to care for their entire family.

He told us there had been countless moments when he wondered how they were going to pay for something the children needed.

Then, unexpectedly, someone would call.

“Do you remember that money you loaned me a while back? I can finally pay you back.”

Or an unexpected gift would arrive.

Or someone would meet a need they hadn’t even mentioned.

Again and again, God provided.  Listening to his stories reminded me that God’s provision doesn’t always look the same.

Sometimes it’s obvious, like the ram caught in the thicket.

Sometimes it’s financial help when you don’t know how you’ll make ends meet.

Sometimes it’s an unexpected opportunity.

Sometimes it’s a new job you never imagined.

And sometimes it’s much quieter than that.

Sometimes it’s a tiny cross in your pocket.

Sometimes it’s a little plastic Jesus from a child.

Sometimes it’s a conversation through the window at Seven Brew.

Sometimes it’s simply someone showing up with exactly the encouragement you needed before you even knew how to ask for it.

God has a wonderful way of meeting us in those moments.  And often, we don’t recognize His provision until we stop, look back, and realize He had already gone ahead of us.

Trusting the One Who Made the Promise

As I reflect on Abraham’s story, I think this is the lesson I carry away more than any other.  Faith isn’t always about knowing how God is going to accomplish what He has promised.

I think we often want to know the details. We want God to explain His plan before we take the next step. We want to see how all the pieces fit together. But that’s rarely how faith works. Faith isn’t trusting that we know how God will act. Faith is trusting the God who made the promise. That’s what Abraham did.

From every outward appearance, God’s command and God’s promise seemed to contradict one another. God had promised descendants through Isaac, yet now Abraham was being asked to surrender the very son through whom that promise would be fulfilled.

Abraham didn’t understand how those two things could possibly fit together. But he knew the One who had made the promise. And because he knew God’s character, he trusted Him even when he couldn’t understand His ways. I think that’s often where faith becomes real for us as well.

It’s easy to trust when the path is clear. It’s easy to trust when we can already see the answer. The deeper challenge comes when we cannot see how God’s promises and our present circumstances fit together. Those are the moments when faith invites us to rest, not in our understanding, but in God’s faithfulness.

Looking to Jesus

Of course, Genesis 22 doesn’t simply tell Abraham’s story.

Ultimately, it points us to Jesus. The very mountains where Abraham walked would one day witness another beloved Son making the same journey.  Isaac carried the wood for the sacrifice on his back. Centuries later, Jesus would carry the cross.

To everyone watching on Good Friday, it must have looked as though God’s promises had failed. How could this be the Messiah? How could God’s kingdom come through a crucifixion? How could hope, peace, forgiveness, and abundant life come through death?

Everything must have seemed completely contradictory. Yet even there, God was fulfilling His promises. Even there, God was providing. Just as Abraham discovered a ram already waiting in the thicket, God had already prepared the perfect sacrifice before the foundation of the world. Jesus became God’s ultimate provision—not only for Abraham, not only for Israel, but for every one of us. Because of Him, we no longer have to bear the weight of our own sin.

God Himself has provided the Lamb.

That is the heart of the Gospel.

Our Invitation

So where does that leave us? Perhaps today you’re carrying questions that don’t yet have answers. Maybe you’re facing a decision that doesn’t make sense. Maybe you’re walking through grief, uncertainty, illness, financial stress, or a season where God’s promises seem difficult to reconcile with your circumstances. If so, remember Abraham.

Remember that he didn’t know how. He simply knew God. Remember the ram in the thicket. God had already gone ahead of Abraham long before Abraham ever saw the provision waiting there. And remember the cross. The greatest evidence of God’s faithfulness isn’t found in our circumstances. It’s found in Jesus Christ. If God did not withhold His own beloved Son, then we can trust Him with every unanswered question we carry today.

We may not always understand the road ahead. We may not always recognize God’s provision while we’re living through it. But again and again, we discover that God has already gone before us. He is already at work. He is already providing. And because of that, we can walk forward with confidence—not because we know how everything will unfold, but because we know the One who walks with us. Thanks be to God. Amen.