Birds of a Feather: Abraham's Sarah

I've been thinking a lot about Sarah lately.  Sarah, as in Sarai, as in Abram (or Abraham)'s wife - from the Bible.  Did you know she was 90 years old when she finally gave birth to Isaac?  Her first son, promised by God.  A promised fulfilled long after her body was designed to bear children.  Probably what we would today call, a "medical miracle."

I've often wondered about her.  About all the years leading up to that miraculous promised birth.  How did she manage to remain faithful, to trust in the promise of the Lord as years and years and years went by?   To believe the in the fulfillment of a promise that seemed increasingly remote, and eventually - nigh unto impossible?

I think of the strength she must have had to repeatedly face the questions of well-meaning (and not-so well-meaning) nosy individuals?  Because I'm sure they asked - "You don't still think you are going to have a baby, do you?" or "IF you are still planning on having a child at your age?"  How did she keep it together when asked at 45, 60, 75, and all through her 80s?  How did she bear the sting, and still trust in the Lord and His promise?

Do you know what she did when the angel finally came to announce that she would give birth within the year?  When she was age 89?  She laughed.  Laughed.

I imagine it to have been a knee jerk reaction, tension released from the many years of hoping, waiting, praying, and pleading.  Something like this:  "Really Lord, after all this?  Now when I have all but given up hope, when I can no longer envision the fulfillment of Your promise.  I've even considered the possibility that I misunderstood, that it was a promise for another woman, or maybe in the next life - now, when my barren womb no longer holds the potential of life, and my limbs are weak with age... after all these years that I've trusted, and waited, is it finally here?!?"

I understand (on a much smaller scale) her struggles.  I feel a kinship with her, as I have similar mortal experiences, and strive to continually trust in the Lord's promises to me.  And yes, He has made me promises (in this mortal life), of things that I desperately desire.  I think of Sarah often as I face the questions of well-meaning individuals, "IF you still think you are going to...."

So, let me answer all of those people here and now - my answer is: YES.  When the Lord makes a promise, He keeps it.  I know that.  I don't know how, or when, or where, and in my small mortal mind I can't even picture it happening anymore, but somehow He will make a way to fulfill His promises.  I believe, even as I struggle to imagine.  And someday, someday, I think I too will laugh at the fulfillment - and just perhaps my promised blessings will be all the sweeter for the waiting.

I consider the Faith of Abraham (Romans 4:18-21)
"Who against hope believed in hope... And being not weak in faith, he considered not his own body now dead, when he was about an hundred years old, neither yet the deadness of Sara’s womb: He staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith, giving glory to God;

And being fully persuaded that, what he had promised, he was able also to perform."

When life couldn't be worse

No matter how good life is, it's easy to get frustrated with the trials we have, or to spend too much time focusing what we think we lack. 

Lately, when my thoughts tend to trend in that direction, I think of the story below.  I don't recall where I heard it originally, probably church, but I found this version of it on the internet.  Just a reminder, that no matter what your life circumstances, it can always get worse - a gentle nudge to remember to recognize the blessings you may not realize you have. ;)

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Traditional Jewish story:

A poor man lived with his wife and six children in a very small one-room house. They were always getting in each other's way and there was so little space they could hardly breathe!

Finally the man could stand it no more. He talked to his wife and asked her what to do. "Go see the rabbi," she told him, and after arguing a while, he went.

The rabbi greeted him and said, "I see something is troubling you. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

And so the poor man told the rabbi how miserable things were at home with him, his wife, and the six children all eating and living and sleeping in one room. The poor man told the rabbi, "We're even starting to yell and fight with each other. Life couldn't be worse."

The rabbi thought very deeply about the poor man's problem. Then he said, "Do exactly as I tell you and things will get better. Do you promise?"

"I promise," the poor man said.

The rabbi then asked the poor man a strange question. "Do you own any animals?"

"Yes," he said. "I have one cow, one goat, and some chickens."

"Good," the rabbi said. "When you get home, take all the animals into your house to live with you."

The poor man was astonished to hear this advice from the rabbi, but he had promised to do exactly what the rabbi said. So he went home and took all the farm animals into the tiny one-room house.

The next day the poor man ran back to see the rabbi. "What have you done to me, Rabbi?" he cried. "It's awful. I did what you told me and the animals are all over the house! Rabbi, help me!"

The rabbi listened and said calmly, "Now go home and take the chickens back outside."

The poor man did as the rabbi said, but hurried back again the next day. "The chickens are gone, but Rabbi, the goat!" he moaned. "The goat is smashing up all the furniture and eating everything in sight!"

The good rabbi said, "Go home and remove the goat and may God bless you."

So the poor man went home and took the goat outside. But he ran back again to see the rabbi, crying and wailing. "What a nightmare you have brought to my house, Rabbi! With the cow it's like living in a stable! Can human beings live with an animal like this?"

The rabbi said sweetly, "My friend, you are right. May God bless you. Go home now and take the cow out of your house." And the poor man went quickly home and took the cow out of the house.

The next day he came running back to the rabbi again. "O Rabbi," he said with a big smile on his face, "we have such a good life now. The animals are all out of the house. The house is so quiet and we've got room to spare! What a joy!"

From "How the Children Became Stars" by Aaron Zerah, published by Sorin Books.   

 http://www.beliefnet.com/Love-Family/Parenting/2000/10/Teaching-Tales-The-Way-You-Like-It.aspx?p=2