Before I share my assignment with you, if you haven't read "Sarah: Parts I and II", you'd probably like to in order for this to make sense! Also, let me preface this blog by saying that my "letter" is not necessarily pulled from the Bible. It's merely 1. part of what Sarah may have thought or contemplated during her journey and 2. part of my journey. If she were to write us a letter, filling in some of the unknowns from her recorded story, and seeing things from the end to the beginning, I think it may have gone something like this.
Dear Sweet Sisters of the Faith:
I greet you with fondness in my heart and the very encouragement of a mother. You know of parts of my journey, though not the whole. I hope this letter finds you well and fills you with a sense of purpose as you continue on your journey, that it shines light on the past as well as shining light onto your future.
Searching for God is not necessarily an easy task. It took me out of my homeland; I became a foreigner in a land I did not know. And God showed up in a way I least expected. When He did arrive, I was in such shock and in such awareness of my futility, that I laughed. It was full of fear.
It wasn't until the fullness of His presence came, that all of the things I held onto so dearly came rushing to the forefront. My barrenness, my emptiness all lying wide open in one chuckle. But even though He knew I would laugh, He spoke anyway.
His response to my unbelief was simple and certain, "Is anything too difficult for the Lord?" In my heart, I knew it was not. In my mind, I contemplated otherwise. It was not that I thought He could not do it; it was that I worried if I could go through with it. My life had followed a pattern, and this promise would offset everything I had known.
There were days when it was easy to believe for the promise; I felt the faith arise. Then, there would be others when I would wonder and worry. Missing a period would be regarded as pregnancy, right? Or, was it menopause? It would be months of going back and forth in my head. Am I pregnant? Or is it now impossible for me to become pregnant? Did I receive the promise? Or did I flat out miss it?
On the good days, I moved toward faith. I would remind myself of The Promise. On bad days, I fought off hopelessness and the uncertainty of what the future held. Not until my belly started to grow, did I actually really start to believe.
The whole experience was rather alarming. When you realize that you are, in fact, carrying a child at 90 years old, your faith starts to shift. What the Lord spoke into being had occurred, but now what? What will it look like from here?
Everyday was a new adventure. Of thoughts, of questions, of concerns, and of joy.
I faced a new unknown. Now that I was carrying a child, I still had to carry to full term and also birth him. It was a new set of challenges.
Sometimes we wait and wait for that word, for it to be spoken out loud. After it's spoken, and we receive it, the seed is planted. But a seed still needs to grow before it can become a blossoming flower. And so it was with my journey.
You see, I was used to being barren. Of course I wanted a child, someone to leave my legacy to. However, the reality of actually doing so, changed the course of my life. I was no longer allowed to live in the shame that once overcame me.
I had to choose to live in glory instead.
Shame can be an easy place to live; it becomes a companion. But when you receive a Promise, shame is not allowed. Glory must take its place. And with glory, honor. And with honor, humility. And with humility, grace.
You may think I did not know much about grace as my story was before the time of Jesus. But I did receive a peak at this precious gift. He is, in fact, the same yesterday, today, and forever.
And, so, during my pregnancy, Grace was all I could cling to. It was there in order for me to conceive. It was there when I believed a missing period meant a baby not menopause. It was there when my belly started to grow and my Promise started to become a reality. It was there as I felt him kick for the first time and also when the contractions started in full force. It was, in fact, what carried me through.
It may seem simple. Grace. And ultimately, in it's paradoxical nature, it is.
I had to let go and receive who I was made to be. Receive all that He is, and receive all the dreams and desires of my heart. And to receive the baby that was to be born to me.
It's really no more difficult than that. After all, He wanted to give me Issac, my laughter, all along. It was only I who had to agree to it.
And so, I exhort you to be open. To believe with all your heart. And to receive the goodness He has to offer. It's free of charge, really.
No fretting and no fear.
Just saying "yes".
It wasn't until that final push, as I birthed Isaac with laughter, that I realized how simple it had really been the whole time. And now I share because I want all to laugh with me, this time out of joy. Nothing is too difficult for the Lord.
All my best, Sarah
(corresponding song: Love Came Down by Brian Johnson)
Sarah~~~~
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