Now, I think that at 32, I'm quickly losing the best years of my life. So I can't imagine what Abram and Sarai must have felt all those years without a child. Let's assume they got married in their 20's: they try and try to have kids, but nothing happens. They pray fervently: nothing. Sacrifices and offerings: nothing. They have their pastor and elders pray over them: nothing. Healing services: nothing. Church prayer list: nothing. They have the whole church pray over them during service (I've seen this happen): nothing. Their fellow congregants grow weary of praying for them and give up. Some even accuse them of not having enough faith. This goes on for, say, 25 years. Sarai goes through menopause (this seems to make her a figure of the Virgin Mary). They give up all hope of having children. They've probably even convinced themselves that at this point, they're too used to being childless to adapt to kids anyway. But the shame of Abram's name ("exalted father") daily reminds them of their barrenness. They seem destined to have no heirs of their own -- all they work for will go to someone else, will serve as the foundation of another house.

At this point, they're, say, 50 -- they STILL have 25 years left before they even receive the promise -- and 50 before Isaac will be born! I can't even fathom how far their hope must have been at that point. Did they continue to pray for a child? Or did they put those thoughts away? Or perhaps those thoughts just naturally fell to the wayside of their lives -- the problem just disappeared from their minds. And still they continue to live, to wake up day after day, to go to sleep night after night, wondering how many more days and nights they have: will death be a blessing or a curse? It appears at times to be both: the end to their pain but also a symbol of the futility of their lives. They will pass away like the mist, with no memory of them surviving in the earth. All seems vain, striving after wind.

We know the rest of the story -- we hold to it as our ultimate hope: the promise of fruitfulness, of redemption, of God's inheritance. But we forget how far they had to go before they received God's promise. We fail to take into account how dark their lives must have been, how much mourning and shame they must have gone through. We forget how long God had to hold his tongue, to watch them toil through day after day, moving from hope to despair and back again. We don't consider how hard it must have been for God to wait, to receive their prayers and NOT act on them immediately. We don't consider how excited God must have been by his plans for them. How impatient he must have gotten for the time to be fulfilled. How eager he must have been to say to them: YES! It will happen!

So while I'm still on the market for a godly mate, and while I continue to make my moan before the Lord, I hope I can keep in mind that being 32 and single is nothing compared to being 75 and childless. Truly I am weak of faith, impatient and selfish. No wonder Kierkegaard saw in Abraham a faith that was heroic, a faith that puts all of our boasting and complaining to shame.

I will trust in the Lord for he has heard my prayer. And I will trust that God is as excited about the plans he has for me as I will be once he brings them to pass.