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First person narrative from the perspective of a mountain…

Isaiah 55:12 “ For ye shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace: the mountains and hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. “

Mount Moriah

     Walk the path of sacrifice, the way of obedience, Follow the trail laid by your forefathers. 
The Creator who made me, called me forth from the dark and raised up my stony cliffs and earthen paths. 
He said I am to be His Holy mountain, and He called me Moriah.
For many years the wind and sun, the stars and moon were my only visitors. The vegetation, nourished from my soil and streams, my only companions. 
Then, lo, a man's voice and footfalls I felt and heard. He walked my paths with his son. The Creator foretold me of their coming, that they came at His command.  Together the man and his son built an altar to the Creator, God, and I heard the boy speak. 
“Father, I understand not. For we have brought with us the wood and fire but what of the Lamb for the sacrifice?”
The man answered, “Have faith, my son, God will provide the sacrifice”.
Then I knew this was the man Abraham, whom the Creator loved and made a covenant with. God promised Abraham that his progeny through Issac would number more than the stars in the heavens. When I knew the man had been told to sacrifice his only son on the altar, I was not afraid. 
      I know the creator well, he does not break his promises. Therefore, As the man bound his son to the altar, I began leading the large ram who lives upon my rocks and is nourished by my vegetation, to the place where Abraham was readying to slay his son,
for I knew the Creator would want a sacrifice in the boys stead. 
In the end, it was as I thought and the ram was slain.
      Abraham gave me a new name that day, he called me Jehovah-jireh, meaning God will see and God will provide. 
I didn't understand fully why God tested his servant Abraham so, until many years later. 
The days and weeks, and years continued to flow and I, Mount Morah, Jehovah-jireh, remained unchanged but for my surface. 
The creator once again visited me to give me yet another honor and sacred duty.  

     A crowd was gathered at my foothills and soldiers surrounded a man who was bloody and beaten, yet still carried a large wooden beam as he sorely, painstakingly, walked my paths to the place of the altar of Abraham. 
I knew this man, he was the Creator's son.  I spoke to my Maker then asking, “Blessed Creator, Most High and Holy one, shall I lead a lamb or Ram to the altar as before?”
God answered me, saying, “ My beautiful Moriah, this is the only Lamb pure enough to be the sacrifice for the whole world. 
I do keep my promises and I promised this Lamb of God would be sacrificed to pay the price of sin for all of humanity.” 
     As the day waned, a great earthquake shook my body and the Lamb’s blood soaked my soil, a blood so pure and true I feel its cleansing power even today. I am a mountain, yet I experience joy, and sorrow. The sacrifice of the Lamb of God made me exceedingly sorrowful and yet, knowing the results of this sacrifice, I also felt great joy and found myself singing! “Praise God from whom all mercies flow! Praise Him all creatures here below! Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!”
     And so I will continue to praise and worship the Creator with the beauty of my paths, my sacred peaks and trees, until once again, I feel the holy feet of the Son on my stony sides once more. 
I am Mount Moriah.
I am Jehovah Jireh.
I am Golgotha, the place of the skull. 
I am the Temple Mount.
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