Your cup is my cup

I never dreamed You would ask me to do what Abraham was asked to do.
That was for him...and men like him.
Men of the Bible. Men of great faith.

My tears. And my soul.
No word, either human or in the Spirit, could describe this anguish.
Is it the fear of uncertainty?
Is it what I might lose?
Is it what I might gain?
Is it both?
Is it crucifying flesh? If so, why has dying to self never been like this?
Is it all of these?

I came to the altar two months ago, laying this on the table.
Now You are asking me to raise the knife.

I never thought I'd fully relate to Jesus saying
"Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but Yours be done."
That was for You, Jesus. It is now for me to know this.
I am unable myself. It is only and solely with Your power and strength that I can, and will.

Your example. You, and Abraham.
You were tested in this, and came out blameless.
Help me keep my eyes solely on You and not on the storm, lest like Peter I begin to sink.
Jesus, You showed more guts than anyone on this earth has ever imagined.
Give me your guts, Immanuel. I humbly ask for them. I fervently, strongly and boldly ask for them!
I cannot do this without them. I will, because You did and Abraham did.
I will, because You will give me Your guts. And I will stand.

You will prove Yourself, for You alone are God.
Let God be true, and every man a liar.