Show Don't Tell: Genesis 17:1-27

Ninety-nine years is a long time to wait, and for Abram, that wait weighed heavily, like the oppressive heat of the midday sun beating down on a barren landscape. Thirteen years had slipped by since the birth of Ishmael, years marked by silence, disappointment, and a heart longing for the promises that seemed more like whispers in the wind than tangible hope. Imagine Abram, now an old man, with skin like cracked earth, each line on his face a testament to dreams deferred. He sits outside his tent, surrounded by the parched land of Canaan, the air thick with dust, when suddenly, the presence of God envelops him.

"I am El Shaddai—God Almighty," the voice thunders with both authority and tenderness. In this moment, Abram is transformed, and with a single declaration, his name becomes Abraham—“father of many." He can scarcely comprehend it: a father at his age, when every fiber of his being has been shaped by the pain of barrenness. And as if that weren't enough, his wife Sarai is renamed Sarah—“princess.” This is a promise not just to him, but to her, to their future generations.

Then comes the sign of the covenant: circumcision. The very thought sends shivers through him, as if the mark of this promise would be etched into his flesh, a reminder of God’s enduring faithfulness. Picture Abraham falling facedown, a man caught in the whirlwind of disbelief and joy, laughter bubbling up not from mockery but from sheer awe. This is joy that defies logic—the kind that makes the heart race. He moves with urgency, obeying God's command, circumcising himself, his son Ishmael, and every male in his household. With each cut, he feels the weight of the covenant, written not on stone but in blood, a sacred promise pulsating through their very bodies, binding them to the Almighty in a way that echoes through eternity. It is a moment of surrender and celebration, as Abraham steps into the new reality of what it means to walk with God—becoming not just a father in name, but a father of nations.