There was a period in my life when I worked in an environment that employed only men. No women were allowed to work there. The only women who ever appeared in that place were the wives and girlfriends of some of the men working with us.
Most of the men in that workplace came from different regions and were not familiar with the local community. As a result, whenever a worker's girlfriend visited, some of the men would ask her if she knew any local girls or women who might be interested in meeting them. Surprisingly, many of these girlfriends were willing to help. They would introduce other women to the men, often receiving a small token of appreciation in return. It was not a fixed payment or a business arrangement. It was more like a tip—a gesture of gratitude for making the connection.
Over time, this became a common occurrence. A girlfriend would come to visit her boyfriend and sometimes arrive with another woman. The introductions were made casually, almost as if nothing unusual was happening.
One particular day remains deeply etched in my memory. A girlfriend called one of my coworkers and said, "I am coming to see my boyfriend, and I have an extra lady. Will you take her?" Without hesitation, my coworker replied, "Oh yeah, I am ready for her."
The conversation was brief, but it stirred something inside me. As I listened, my mind suddenly went to a familiar biblical story—the story of Abraham and Isaac.
The Bible tells us that Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on Isaac. Abraham carried the fire and the knife while the two walked together toward the place of sacrifice. Along the way, Isaac noticed something troubling. The wood was there. The fire was there. Everything necessary for the sacrifice was present. Yet something was missing.
Isaac asked his father, "The fire and wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?" What Isaac did not know was that he himself was the intended sacrifice.
As I reflected on that story, I became troubled in my spirit. I began to wonder about many of the young women who were being brought into our workplace through these introductions. Did they fully understand why they were being brought there? Did they know what expectations awaited them? Were they making informed decisions, or were some of them simply following someone they trusted without fully understanding the situation? Like Isaac, they might have seen the wood and the fire but failed to see the altar.
The thought disturbed me because throughout history, many sacrifices have occurred not because people were forced, but because they were unaware of the role they were being asked to play. Sometimes those who lead others into dangerous situations are not strangers. They can be friends, relatives, acquaintances, or trusted companions. The very people who appear to be guiding us may unknowingly—or knowingly—be leading us toward harm.
This experience taught me an important lesson about human relationships and personal responsibility. Every individual must learn to ask questions and understand the circumstances they are entering. Trust is important, but trust should never replace wisdom. People should know where they are going, why they are going there, and what is expected of them when they arrive.
The story of Isaac remains powerful because it reminds us that appearances can be deceiving. Everything can seem normal on the journey while a hidden purpose remains concealed. Isaac's question was a question of awareness. He looked around and recognized that something did not add up.
In life, many people are taken toward metaphorical altars without realizing it. Some are led into destructive relationships. Others are led into criminal activities, exploitation, addiction, or situations that compromise their dignity and future. Often, the danger is disguised as friendship, opportunity, excitement, or convenience.
Looking back on that workplace experience, I realized that there are people who take others to be sacrificed—not necessarily in the literal sense, but by leading them into situations where they may be used, exploited, or harmed. That realization left a lasting impression on me.
It also reinforced the importance of awareness. Sometimes the most important question a person can ask is the same question Isaac asked long ago: "Where is the lamb?" In many situations, asking that question may reveal whether one is simply participating in an event—or unknowingly becoming the sacrifice.
Most of the men in that workplace came from different regions and were not familiar with the local community. As a result, whenever a worker's girlfriend visited, some of the men would ask her if she knew any local girls or women who might be interested in meeting them. Surprisingly, many of these girlfriends were willing to help. They would introduce other women to the men, often receiving a small token of appreciation in return. It was not a fixed payment or a business arrangement. It was more like a tip—a gesture of gratitude for making the connection.
Over time, this became a common occurrence. A girlfriend would come to visit her boyfriend and sometimes arrive with another woman. The introductions were made casually, almost as if nothing unusual was happening.
One particular day remains deeply etched in my memory. A girlfriend called one of my coworkers and said, "I am coming to see my boyfriend, and I have an extra lady. Will you take her?" Without hesitation, my coworker replied, "Oh yeah, I am ready for her."
The conversation was brief, but it stirred something inside me. As I listened, my mind suddenly went to a familiar biblical story—the story of Abraham and Isaac.
The Bible tells us that Abraham took the wood for the burnt offering and placed it on Isaac. Abraham carried the fire and the knife while the two walked together toward the place of sacrifice. Along the way, Isaac noticed something troubling. The wood was there. The fire was there. Everything necessary for the sacrifice was present. Yet something was missing.
Isaac asked his father, "The fire and wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?" What Isaac did not know was that he himself was the intended sacrifice.
As I reflected on that story, I became troubled in my spirit. I began to wonder about many of the young women who were being brought into our workplace through these introductions. Did they fully understand why they were being brought there? Did they know what expectations awaited them? Were they making informed decisions, or were some of them simply following someone they trusted without fully understanding the situation? Like Isaac, they might have seen the wood and the fire but failed to see the altar.
The thought disturbed me because throughout history, many sacrifices have occurred not because people were forced, but because they were unaware of the role they were being asked to play. Sometimes those who lead others into dangerous situations are not strangers. They can be friends, relatives, acquaintances, or trusted companions. The very people who appear to be guiding us may unknowingly—or knowingly—be leading us toward harm.
This experience taught me an important lesson about human relationships and personal responsibility. Every individual must learn to ask questions and understand the circumstances they are entering. Trust is important, but trust should never replace wisdom. People should know where they are going, why they are going there, and what is expected of them when they arrive.
The story of Isaac remains powerful because it reminds us that appearances can be deceiving. Everything can seem normal on the journey while a hidden purpose remains concealed. Isaac's question was a question of awareness. He looked around and recognized that something did not add up.
In life, many people are taken toward metaphorical altars without realizing it. Some are led into destructive relationships. Others are led into criminal activities, exploitation, addiction, or situations that compromise their dignity and future. Often, the danger is disguised as friendship, opportunity, excitement, or convenience.
Looking back on that workplace experience, I realized that there are people who take others to be sacrificed—not necessarily in the literal sense, but by leading them into situations where they may be used, exploited, or harmed. That realization left a lasting impression on me.
It also reinforced the importance of awareness. Sometimes the most important question a person can ask is the same question Isaac asked long ago: "Where is the lamb?" In many situations, asking that question may reveal whether one is simply participating in an event—or unknowingly becoming the sacrifice.
