Give Me Grace : Sarah Laughed

“Sarah Laughed” by Rae Antonoff

11-12 Abraham and Sarah were old by this time, very old. Sarah was far past the age for having babies. Sarah laughed within herself, “An old woman like me? Get pregnant? With this old man of a husband?” (Genesis 19 11-12 MSG)

Sarah lied. She said, “I didn’t laugh,” because she was afraid. But he said, “Yes you did; you laughed.” (‭Genesis‬ ‭18‬:‭15‬ MSG)

Abraham was a hundred years old when his son Isaac was born. Sarah said, God has blessed me with laughter and all who get the news will laugh with me! (‭Genesis‬ ‭21‬:‭5-6‬ MSG)

 Sarah laughed. 

We were on our way home. 4 days 3 nights. A minivan, my love and lovelies. After a few days away we were on our way home. Camping at Lake George was beautiful but one can eat only so many grilled to perfection burgers. Besides, the morning run to the bathroom with Chailah was getting old. Note to self, next time? Bring a porta-a-potty.

South bound traffic on I87 crawled but the sound of laughter filled the car. It was the sound of children responding to a few days of fresh air, good food and extra loving. They were happy.  Punch drunk from marshmallows and late nights by a fire – our mini vacation had done them well.

Laughter. I laughed too. In that moment God reminded me how much my laughter has changed.

Pause. Rewind, freeze frame, flashback. Click. Click. Click. Remember. It was as if I’d dreamed the moment and in it, remembered Sarah.  Sarah’s laughter. At one time it was my own. Never mind what people said, for the most part they were encouraging. Months turned years sprinkled with baby showers and holidays found me holding little more than a dream. My empty arms foretold the story of the ones I lost. At least that’s how it felt to me. I ached for a child, felt my heart-break for a child.

It was me. I didn’t believe. I was my worst enemy, my only rival. Believing the god of fertility hadn’t done its magical dance over me, I pushed aside the one true God who said He loved me. Anyway.

It was easier to toy around with lesser gods than put my hope in the all-powerful. Part of me let go of believing. Because believing hurts. But I know the body shiver of concealed laughter, of the self-deprecating laugh Sarah gave. Part disbelief, part self preservation…sometimes we laugh to dull our senses. But each time I did it, I brushed aside my blessing. Dismissed His power. Believing is hard but doubt is harmful to your health.  Laughter hid the dis-ease of disbelief.

I did, I chuckled “yeah right” with Sarah. Sarah laughed and so did I.

And I would have lied about it too.

Yet, that moment was part of every longing for motherhood, every hope against denial, every reason for wanting. It was part of my souls song. My childhood memories, my destiny. And I heard it in their laughter.

Three boys and two girls. Gods great provision against my hopeless situation. Only He always knew. And held my broken winged body close whispering don’t give up, keep believing, time will heal, be willing to alter the dream, take a different path. To listen – even when I didn’t understand.

Their laughter filled me with joy. Ringing through my mother spirit as a dance I’ve known since the beginning of time. Rocking me gently, back and forth.

It was his promise manifested as a tickle in my throat. And I leaned forward to release it with a few tears. My delight in everything and nothing. The moment. I was made for it. My laughter transformed. Full and free. Lighthearted, unburdened. My doubt, like Sarah’s, redeemed as unbridled faith.

Three boys and two girls. I laugh within myself and I think God laughs too.

Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight…#GiveMeGrace

♥

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*** I found the beautiful work of Rae Antonoff on Etsy.***

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Lisha Epperson