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Devotional

Sarah and faith

Sarah. Wife of Abraham. Her desolate womb is noted the first time she’s ever mentioned in the Bible. What an introduction.

Beautiful Sarai left all she’d ever known because God called her husband Abram to go out. Out from the familiar. Out from his land, his relatives, his father’s house. 

Blessing and a bumpy ride
Photo by Inbal Malca on Unsplash

There was blessing and promise in this call of God. Blessing not only for Abram and his family but for all the peoples of the earth. 

It meant change. And mystery. Uprooting. Traveling into the unknown. 

To be honest, every time I studied their story, I focused more on Abraham. It felt to me like Sarah was along for the ride. And a bumpy ride at that.

She submitted without question. Agreed to be called his sister for safety’s sake. And landed in a scary situation by Abram’s deception—not once, but twice.

Then when she decided to step up and work out her own plan for the promised son? And Abraham agreed to it? Her plan brought heartache and division that has resounded through the ages. 

Let’s just say, I pondered the fact that she was upheld as a woman of faith in Hebrews 11.

A walk in Sarah’s sandals

But one year, I was 35 and very pregnant with our second child. Delivering a baby for the first time in a foreign land.  Pakistan, to be exact.

I read again of Sarai whom the Lord named Sarah. And it hit me. Sarah was going through everything I was experiencing in pregnancy—but at the age of 90. While living in tents. 

Meditating on her story that year, I wrote the following monologue. A simple attempt to walk in her sandals and consider her faith. And her humor. 

After all, “Sarah said, ‘God has made me laugh and everyone who hears will laugh with me’” (Genesis 21:6).

Sarah—a monologue

[GROANS] I’m too old for this, Zabora!
My bones were brittle enough as it was.
Tell me, did the smell of onions and garlic sicken you, when you were…[NODDING]
…uhhh, some mornings it’s more than I can stand.
I felt the baby kick this morning, Zabora.
It’s a wonder. This ancient, withered womb holding new life
—holding “laughter.”
That’s his name, you know? Laughter? Our little Isaac.
Did I ever tell you how it all began, Zabora?
…you’ll have to forgive me. I’m a new mother and an old woman at the same time. My memory’s not what it used to be.
I was such a young bride then.
I had dreams of establishing our home—in a real house with four walls and a door—not a tent flap.
Of having neighbors, right across the way—not a day’s journey through the wilderness.
But I was married to Abram…and Abram would say, “Sarai, God and I were talking the other day, and He said, ‘Go.’”
Soooo, I didn’t join the local sewing circle—I learned how to pack a camel and move in two days.
When God spoke, Abram listened.
I remember asking him, “Abram, where are we going?”
“I don’t know. God will show us.”
Now, what do you say to that?
Then there were the times he said, “Sarai, God has promised numerous offspring. Like the dust,” he said. “Like the stars in the sky.”
Oh, I thought his head was in the clouds that time.
Then one day, he said, “Sarah, God has promised us a son.”
Oh, Zabora.
By then my skin was wrinkled.
My hair was grey.
My teeth were falling out.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry!
An old woman like me having a baby?
Impossible!
But then–God spoke.
To me.
…Oh, no, it wasn’t face to face
—but He spoke to me.
Remember the three strangers who came our way last year?
You helped to prepare the meal….
After they’d eaten, the One asked Abram, “Where’s Sarah?”
“Just inside the tent,” says Abram.
And then the One said,
“When I return this time next year, Sarah will have borne a son.”
And that was when I laughed.
And He knew that I laughed.
Even though I tried to deny it.
He knew.
I thought about that a long time, Zabora.
And I realized that He knew I was sitting just inside the tent, listening—and His words were for me.
God spoke to me.
You never know how or when God’s going to speak to you, Zabora.
But you’ve got to be ready to listen.
You’ve got to be ready to obey.
Sometimes it may mean rolling up the mats.
Taking down the tents.
Loading up the camels.
Sometimes it may mean
walking through a wilderness to a place you do not know.
But God knows, Zabora.
God knows.

[Susan Lafferty, 1994]

By faith, Sarah

“By faith, even Sarah herself, when she was unable to have children, received power to conceive offspring, even though she was past the age, since she considered that the One who had promised was faithful” (Hebrews 11:11).  

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