Resting his hands atop the long handle of his garden hoe, he studied the coming entourage through narrowed eyes. It looked important. There was too much pomp and circumstance for the visitor to be a neighboring farmer or passing trader. This looked official. Dignified. Royal. It wouldn’t be the first of its kind. King Abimelech had spoken with him before. Twice. First, when he discovered Rebekah was Isaac’s wife, not his sister. Second, to order him out of his city. Neither had been particularly cordial conversations. The king’s feathers had been ruffled every time. Yet, try as he might, Isaac couldn’t think what he had done to infuriate the man this time. He had taken his wife and possessions and left the area. He was carefully minding his own business. There was no reason for the king to seek him out again. Tamping down the rising concern in his stomach, Isaac braced himself to pack up and move. Again.
Admittedly, the king had good reason to be annoyed with Isaac for passing Rebekah off as his sister. Seriously. Even a Philistine knew the sin of taking another man’s wife as one’s own. He knew the danger of crossing swords with Isaac’s God. Passed down through time was the story of another man, Abraham, who claimed his wife was his sister, nearly costing the king of that day his life. It had caused quite a stir in the kingdom then. Enough so that the king had hastily shown that man the door. Not so with Isaac.
Rather than ordering them ushered out of his kingdom by military escort, the king issued a protection order over them. Death awaited the one who touched Isaac and Rebekah. It was handy. Living in a foreign land, knowing you were safe. They settled in. Planted crops. Built herds. The land was fertile. Their farm flourished. God moved. The first harvest was astonishing. Multiple times above and beyond what Isaac expected. His flocks and herds grew. His money multiplied. Isaac found himself quite content to put down roots and stay forever. The original citizens had other ideas.
Jealous of Isaac’s blessings, the Philistines began harassing him. Making mischief. Hoping Isaac would be miserable enough to leave. They loaded dirt into all his wells. Old wells. Wells that had been there for some time. Wells, his father, Abraham, had dug. Isaac didn’t budge. Eventually, King Abimelech had enough. Either in capitulation to his people or in genuine irritation at Isaac, the king handed him his hat and showed him the door. Quite literally. He asked him to leave. More aptly, he kicked him out of the city. Isaac had grown too much, was too successful, had eclipsed the local status quo, and they wanted him gone. So he packed his bags, his tools, his animals, his family, and moved out to the valley. (Genesis 26:1-18)
It wasn’t far enough. The shepherds from the city still had access to him. They could still monitor his every move. They could cause trouble if they wanted. And they did. Very much. They wanted to cause trouble. They wanted to make Isaac’s life a little more miserable than necessary. They wanted to see if they could interrupt his work, derail his success, encourage him to move again. And again.
They stalked him. Snuck around his new place. Made mischief. When Isaac’s servants dug and discovered a well of fresh water in the valley, the shepherds from the city came and claimed it as their own. The herdsmen argued with them, but Isaac didn’t. He called the well contentious and calmly moved his servants to another spot. Again they dug until finding water. Again, the shepherds from the city disputed ownership of the well. Again, words were exchanged. Fists were clenched. Not Isaac’s. He calmly dubbed the well hostile and moved his servants to another digging place.
Bending into the back-breaking work again, the servants were surely casting glances over their shoulders and keeping an eye out for the nosy Philistines. They were certainly past the slurs and hostilities thrown at them. They were over the lies and stealing of their hard work. They weren’t going to let it happen again. They needn’t have worried. When they struck water this time, no one came forward to dispute the ownership. No one raced in to call it their own. No one seemed to want this one. And Isaac praised God for the open space He had given them to live and flourish in the land. In all the hardship and suffering, with people coming against them for absolutely no logical reason, God had been with them. God had blessed them. God’s plan had prevailed. (Genesis 26:19-25)
Isaac had always known it would. He was the very living, very obvious proof that God would provide and prevail. The boyhood recollection of lying on an altar, a bound sacrifice to God, his father’s knife raised high above him would never leave his memory. Nor would the angelic voice calling from heaven to stop the proceedings. God had provided a sacrifice. The boy on the altar didn’t need to die. Isaac had lived that. He still trusted that same God. And it showed. In moments where servants and herdsmen would have been happy to resort to fisticuffs, Isaac carefully, yet pointedly, turned them to another space. A space where he trusted God to take care of them. No need to argue. No need to fight. No need to adjudicate the issue. God would handle it. He always did. Isaac knew he could trust Him. (Genesis 22:1-14)
Eventually, God had brought him to this current place. The place he was now standing as he watched the procession get closer. Isaac had been right. It wasn’t a neighbor, a lost soul, or a traveling market. It was Abimelech. Again. Flanked by his adviser and his army commander. They were clearly on a mission. How it involved Isaac, he wasn’t certain. No matter how hard he thought, not one reason came to mind that would necessitate the king and his cronies traveling this distance to visit him. He had done what they had asked. He had left their city. His servants had dug wells and left them to their shepherds. He had moved on more than once without so much as a dirty look. He couldn’t fathom what offense they had come up with this time. He wasn’t even sure what to say when they got there. He wasn’t happy to see them. He wasn’t interested in serving them lunch. One doesn’t invite their enemies for tea and a chat.
As it turned out, Isaac didn’t need to say much at all. Abimelech had the talking covered. They weren’t looking to cause more trouble. They were looking for peace. With him. Because they had been watching. They had been paying more attention than he realized. They had noticed, plainly seen, that God was with him. It was obvious. Not just because he was prospering so magnificently. No. They noticed God was with him by the way he handled himself in times of frustration and anger. They noticed every time he simply walked away and started again in a new place rather than physically fight or cause an uproar. They noticed that Isaac simply straightened his spine and went about his business. He didn’t run around gossipping about the Philistines, stirring up strife, or attempting to cause divisions among the people. He didn’t seek revenge. He didn’t passive-aggressively set traps to make them look like idiots for all to see. He could have. He didn’t. Isaac simply went about his business, resting in the fact that God would protect, provide, and prosper his life. And God did. (Genesis 26:26-33)
It was 2025 when I read Genesis 26 and realized how admirably Isaac handled himself in less-than-desirable circumstances. Not because I hadn’t read the account before. I had. Year after year, I have read that same passage and wondered why he just walked away without a fight and went off to dig another well. Maybe I have been seeing it through the lens of today’s society. Social media would rip this guy up as a weakling. Keyboard warriors would hammer out diatribes on how he should have stood his ground. In a society that loves a fight, there would be no end of harsh judgment and name-calling. He’d be tagged a coward. Pushover. Spineless. Weak. But not by me. Not today. Not ever again. Because the words of Abimelech snagged my attention with such force I will never again read the account the same way. “It is plain to us that God is with you.” Obvious. Clear. Indisputable. God’s presence in Isaac’s life was so prominent that no one could debate it. Not just by how he prospered, but by how he handled himself when things didn’t go his way. (Genesis 26:28)
Through all the turmoil and trouble, Abimelech had been watching. When they tried to sabotage Isaac, the people had taken notice. When the shepherds had stolen his wells and been braced for a fight, they took note when he didn’t engage. When Isaac had every reason to react in rage, but instead acted with calm respect and quiet dignity, those looking on paid attention. When other men would have reacted with insults and war and shenanigans of their own, Isaac didn’t. He didn’t need to. He knew who his God was. He knew in whose hands his life and times lay. He knew in Whose presence he lived. And so did everyone else. Isaac’s relationship with God plainly showed in the way he lived his life and handled his business, not just when he prospered, but in every word, every action, every moment, every day.
Can the same be said for you? Do you occupy a spiritual space so close to God that your reactions to negative circumstances and derogatory situations plainly reflect the presence of God in your life? Do you live so close to Him, trust Him so implicitly, that your response to trouble and trials and turmoil reflect His heart? When things go sideways, when enemies attack, when life seems to have it out for you, does your relationship with God shine from your life in a grand exhibition of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control? In the best of times, in the worst of times, at all times, can the people around you plainly see that you dwell in the presence of God? (Galatians 5:22-23; Ephesians 5:8-9; Colossians 3:12-14; II Peter 1:5-8; Matthew 7:16-20; Isaiah 32:17; Luke 3:8)