The promises of God, like distant views,
stretching before our eyes from hilltops climbed,
summon us onward, whilst we look for clues
from ancient ones who lived with God in mind.
Abram God’s blessing heard and moved his tent:
From Canaan came and left to feed his flocks
Was wayward, cheated, listening onward went.
Laughing at promises old Sarah mocks
Yet held the promised son. The story turns
As Abraham is charged to kill the one
The ram redeems. So Isaac grows, discerns
In turn the way, and gives his wife two sons
A cheater chosen last to give us hope:
Wrestling with angels gives us sight of God.
Sarah Cawdell lives in Shropshire with her husband and three teenage children.