promises, promises…

there’s a story in the Bible about an old man, and an old woman. they had lived many, many years together as husband and wife, but had no children.

one day, the God of their people told the man he would someday be the father of many peoples. the woman could not believe her ears, and she laughed at the idea. clearly, their present circumstances could not produce such an outcome. she had known for many years she could not have children and besides, they were too old for such a thing.

so, the woman decided a young maiden who served in their house would be the one to fulfill the promise. she pushed the maiden on her husband, convinced this was the only way.

the young maiden got pregnant easily but this still did not satisfy the woman. overwhelmed with jealousy, she drove the maiden and the newborn from her house. the maiden was distrought and the young man grew up filled to the brim with the bitterness of rejection.

soon after, the old woman got pregnant and the couple rejoiced, though not as much as they could have, at the fulfillment of the promise.


(an excerpt from an earlier journal entry)
this all-too-familiar tension is sometimes overwhelming.  it’s all i can do not to run away, to hold Jesus steady in my vision.  these are the times in our walk together that i just wish i could jump on a golf cart or something and skip a few holes.

i can understand why Sarah did it, forced her husband on her maid servant.  i can understand why she tried to force God’s hand.  it’s not the best feeling in the world, not as satisfying or fulfilling as it could be.  but there seems to be a sense that maybe this is good enough.  and worse yet, all there is…


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