In his faithful love he promises to rebuild us, to repair what we have torn with our own two hands. He cleans our filthy wounds encrusted with the blood guilt of our rebellion. He gives us back our dead, restores what the moth has eaten. He transforms our dry deserts into fruitful gardens. He breaks our chains, clothes us, and calls us his own. He brings us home and fills our hungry souls with what is good. This is the faithful love of our Lord.
It was not her habit to eavesdrop, but when Abraham ran into the tent and said, “Sarah, get out your best flour and bake three loaves of bread, and hurry!,” when she heard him calling the servants to quickly slaughter the calf, she was curious. Who were these men who had appeared out of nowhere, and why was Abraham so eager to entertain them?
God did things his way and in his time, and things were not always what they seemed. He could be trusted, but he was not predictable. This much he had learned, or perhaps was still learning. How could he explain this to Sarah? How could he expect her to hope again when he could give her none of the assurances she would expect?
Without your intervention, we walk in the futility of our own minds, our understanding darkened. Like blind men we grope. Don’t allow us to be excluded from the life of God because of our stubborn ignorance, because of the hardness of our hearts …
Where in her life had she made the Wrong Turn? What had she done to deserve a barren womb? And where was God in all of this? What was the good of a God who controlled all things, if at best, he forgot you, or at worst, botched everything up?