Abraham ran to meet them as fast as his old legs would carry him. When the entourage reached the edge of the camp, the guards helped Sarah dismount and she fell into her husband’s waiting arms.
“I have so much to tell you, husband!” she said. “The Eternal One answered our prayers again. He spoke to the king in a dream, warning him to let me return to my people. He was so frightened by the vision, he did not wait for the light of day to fetch me and send me on my way! He has sent along these servant girls to us as a gift”—she made a sweeping gesture with her arm—“and all these cattle and sheep.”
Abraham could not believe what he was hearing. “But surely the king wants something of us in return.”
“No, my husband,” Sarah said. “He knows now that the hand of a mighty and powerful God is upon you, and he has told us we can live here in peace!”
****
Sarah and Abraham never forgot the tragedy they had witnessed of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and they grieved the deaths of Lot and his family, but with each passing month the memory became a little less painful as they enjoyed a peaceful life near the oasis of Gerar.
One morning they arose and sat outside their tent, contentedly watching the camp come to life and the flocks and herds grazing on the nearby hillside.
“God has been so good to us, Sarah,” Abraham murmured.
“Yes…His blessings are more than we can count.” Then she put a trembling hand on his arm. “Husband,” she whispered, “I have something to tell you.”
Abraham turned to look into her eyes, which sparkled in the morning light. “What is it, wife?”
“Do you remember that the visitor said I would have a child, and I laughed? Well, I…I was wrong.”
Abraham did not understand. “What do you mean you were wrong?”
“I am going to have a child, Abraham.”
He looked at her, incredulous, and a smile crept over his lips. Her expression shone with the joy and pride of any new mother, and her eyes revealed the staggering truth. For so many years he had struggled to keep believing in God’s promise, for they were both old. Now he began to tremble as he asked, “Is it true? Are you sure?”
“It is true,” Sarah said simply. “I waited to tell you until I could be sure.” She fell against him, and he held her tight as she cried out in joy, “The Most High has visited us! I know it’s impossible in the flesh, but I am with child. We will have the son of promise, husband!”
Chapter 28
Standing at the door of her tent, Sarah gazed out and watched gauzy clouds drift across the sky. The pale sun burned against the blueness of the horizon. A tremor went through her, and she put her hand on her rounded abdomen. A jubilance like nothing she had ever known filled her as she stood holding herself. The child within her had stirred!
He’s alive! My son is alive! O Eternal One, how merciful you are and how faithful! Forgive me for doubting you. Bring this miracle son into the world, and put your hand on him every day of his life!
The smell of cooked meat wafted to her on the breeze, bringing a wave of nausea. During the first months of her pregnancy she had suffered wretched morning sickness. She had become so weak she had been unable to do more than simply lie flat on her back and wait for the nausea to pass. Abraham had prevailed upon Zara to help Sarah through her pregnancy. The young woman had become like a right hand to her, and Sarah had grown to love her like a daughter.
A dog suddenly appeared to her right, an ungainly yellow creature, rawboned, with an abnormally long, thin face. He was in pursuit of a smaller dog, and Sarah watched as they dashed through the center of the camp and then disappeared. As she listened to the sounds of the camp, to the murmur of voices and the crying of a child somewhere, memories drifted across her mind, like ghosts floating across a stage. She remembered how Abraham had first come into her life, and a smile turned the corners of her lips upward as she relived their courtship. How awkward he had been! And what a beast she had been to treat him so badly! She thought tenderly of their early days of marriage, remembering how thoughtful and kind Abraham had been. For all his strength he had been as gentle as a woman. He had awakened love in her that had grown over the years, though the early love she had felt for him had matured from a blazing fire to a warm bed of hot coals. She knew she would love him until the day she died.
Her back began to hurt, and she moved over to the chair that Abraham had asked his herdsman Dulog to make. Dulog was skillful with his hands and had built a lightweight chair out of wood, with a leather seat stretched across a frame. It was deep and comfortable, and Dulog had fashioned a cushioned back, so now Sarah settled back with a sigh, still watching the scenes of the camp.
Across from her tent she saw Dulog’s wife, Mara, carrying a load of clothes down to the river to be washed. Mara smiled and waved at her, and Sarah waved back. She remembered that Mara, who had a three-month-old child of her own, had come to say, “If you do not have enough milk, I have plenty enough for your baby.”
Everyone’s been so kind, Sarah thought, and it’s unlikely that I’ll be able to furnish enough nourishment for a baby, but there are half a dozen nursing mothers in the camp, and any one of them would be honored to nourish the child of Abraham.
She thought of the child as Abraham’s child. She was the bearer of the life, and the child would be hers as well as his, but God’s promises were all tied to the seed of Abraham. Still, a fierce pride burned in her as she realized she was bringing a son into the world whose descendants would be more abundant than the stars of the sky.
Sarah sat quietly for a time but soon became uncomfortable even sitting in the soft seat. She rose and arched her back to ease the pain and began to walk around her tent. She knew her body did not have the resiliency of that of a young woman, and she wondered if she would have the strength to survive the birth.
“Good morning, mistress.” Zara had fallen into step beside Sarah. “Did you sleep well last night?”
“Well enough. You look refreshed this morning.”
“It’s a beautiful day. I’m going to make your breakfast now. What would you like?”
“Nothing sounds good.”
“Well, I’ll make it good.” Zara smiled. “I’ll get some fresh milk and make you some of that lentil porridge you like so much.”
Sarah allowed Zara to cajole her into smiling, and a short time later she was sitting down in her chair, eating a bowl of porridge. She ate a few bites of it, then shook her head. “I don’t think I can get any more of it down.”
“You must eat, mistress,” Zara said firmly. “I know you’re not hungry, but you’re eating for two now.”
Sarah suddenly smiled. “‘Eating for two.’ You don’t know how wonderful that sounds to me. To think that I’m carrying a life, a son for Abraham.”
“Everyone is so happy for you. No one’s talked about anything else since you found out you were pregnant. And not only here,” Zara said, “but all through the land the word has gone out. Everyone’s saying what a miracle it is.”
“You’re right about that,” Sarah said. She took another bite and forced it down, then said, “I didn’t tell you what I did when the three men visited us.”
“Who were those three men?”
“I’m not really sure, but I can’t help thinking they were heavenly messengers. When their leader told Abraham that I was going to have a child, the strangest thing happened.”
“A strange thing? What was it?”
“I didn’t actually laugh out loud, but inside I was laughing. You know how that is?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, it was as if that man knew exactly what was going on, for he told Abraham that I had laughed, even though I hadn’t made a sound.”
“How strange.”
“I think they were messengers of the Eternal One,” Sarah said quietly. “After I knew that I was going to have a baby, I thought back on that day, and I remembered that I’d laughed at them. I felt so terrible about
my unbelief.” She shook her head, and her lips formed a firm line. “I’ll never laugh at anything God tells me again.”
The two women sat talking quietly, and finally Zara said, “Are you afraid, mistress?”
“You mean afraid to have the baby?”
“Yes. It’s a hard thing even for a young woman.”
“I’m concerned but not afraid. That’s one thing I’ve learned. When the God of all the earth sets out to do something, it will be done.” She reached over and took Zara’s hand, and a light was in her eyes. “I know it will be hard at my age, but I don’t mind, for I know the hand of God is on me.”
****
Night had fallen upon the camp, and Sarah lay panting in the heat. Abraham lay beside her, but he had fallen asleep long ago. As for Sarah, she could not get comfortable in any position, and she had tried them all. Laboriously she pulled herself over to lie on her side, then put her arms around the bulge in her stomach and tried desperately to drift off to sleep.
Her pregnancy had gotten harder, until she had become almost as helpless as a child. She could have borne the discomfort of the pregnancy, but a problem had come to plague her that simply would not go away. And that problem was Hagar and Ishmael.
I wish I had never thought of allowing Hagar to have a child by Abraham. I should have believed the Eternal One, but it was so hard, and I just couldn’t. It’s been many years, and Ishmael and Hagar have all this time been secure in their position. If not for my son, Ishmael would be the true heir of Abraham, the real son.
The child within her would be the child of the true wife, and Abraham would, by custom and tradition, make him the heir. Hagar was not even a concubine and really had no position at all. But Abraham had always been kind to her, and as for Ishmael, Abraham had doted on him all of his life.
At the cry of a hunting night bird, she clutched at a sudden drawing pain in her stomach. Instantly she felt a tinge of fear. She had told Zara she was not afraid of giving birth, but now that it was upon her, she did feel great apprehension. Slowly she rolled over on her back, her hands on her stomach, and waited to see if the time had come. Her mind went back to Hagar, and she reviewed her relationship with the bondwoman. She remembered how Abraham had stepped in and defended her from Hagar’s attacks against her and how Hagar had run away for a time. It had seemed impossible that the two women could ever be friends again, but Hagar had returned to camp more subdued. They were no longer friends, but Sarah had tried to be civil toward her. She felt she owed her a debt for bearing her husband a son, but she could never bring herself to love the woman who had become her rival.
Her mind worked nervously as she went over the things that were troubling her about what the future might hold. She was old now and would not, in all probability, live to see her son grow up to manhood. And what if Abraham died? Ishmael would be a strong man, and their son, why, he would be only eight years old when Ishmael was in his twenties! Sarah tried not to think of it, but she knew that Ishmael had some wild blood in his veins. It came, of course, from his mother, who had come from a wild and violent tribe.
The possibility that her son would be at the mercy of a much stronger Ishmael, backed by an ambitious mother, terrified her. She was trying desperately not to think any more about it when she was hit with a pain much stronger than any she had felt yet, and she quickly forgot everything else.
“Abraham!”
“Yes?” Abraham awoke at once.
“I…I think it’s time. The baby is coming.”
“I’ll get the women.” Abraham scrambled to his feet, threw on a robe, and disappeared. Sarah lay quietly and waited, and before he returned, another pain swept over her. “O Eternal One, have mercy on me and this child,” she prayed.
****
The birth was difficult beyond belief. Sarah was willing, but her body was weak. She did not have the strength to push the child. Her bones were too brittle and her joints too frail to sustain the sitting position, and the midwives could do little to ease her pain. She lay hour after hour waiting for the child in agony.
Finally, after her mind was almost paralyzed by the terrible pain, she was surprised to feel some relief. In the dimness of half-consciousness, she was aware of a sensation of release. At first she thought she was dying, but then she heard cries of joy. She could not understand it at first, but then she felt a hand on her head, and she came back to the world. She saw Abraham’s face, but her vision was blurred, and she could see him only unclearly.
“We have a son, Sarah! A beautiful baby boy!”
And then the joy came. She felt Abraham’s hand on her, patting and stroking her. She heard the cries of the midwives, and she managed to say, “Let me hold him.”
Almost at once the bundle was placed in her arms, and her vision cleared. She looked down at the tiny bit of humanity, and her heart knew great joy. “Our son, Abraham. Our own son!”
“Yes. You have done well.”
“The Eternal One has given us this child. We must never forget it, husband.”
At that moment the child uttered a feeble cry, which grew stronger. Sarah felt herself slipping away again, but she also, strangely enough, laughed aloud. “There,” she said. “I laughed once in disbelief, but now I laugh because God has given me great joy.”
Abraham’s eyes were filled with tears, but he managed a smile. “We will laugh together over this son of ours. His name shall be called Isaac, for this is the name given to him by the Lord of all the earth!”
****
Zara lifted the infant high in the air and rocked him back and forth. “What a fine, handsome boy you are, Isaac,” she crooned. She pulled him back into her arms and saw that he was drooling. She wiped his mouth, then sat down beside Sarah, who was watching her fondly. “This is the most beautiful baby in the world, mistress.”
“Well, I think so. But, of course, I’m prejudiced.”
“You’re not in the least prejudiced. He’s our miracle baby, and the great God above is going to do wondrous things with him.”
Sarah was feeling very good indeed. She had recovered slowly from the ordeal of birth, but now that terrible night was three months past, and she remembered it only faintly. What was real to her now was Isaac. Her days were filled with him, and Zara had become a second mother. Sarah had not produced enough milk for the child, but several of the women with infants had clamored over the honor of nursing the child of Abraham and Sarah.
Sarah studied Zara, pleased with her appearance, as always. She watched the young woman’s lips purse together as she made cooing noises to Isaac. There was a glow in the younger woman’s eyes that made her beautiful, and Sarah felt a great love for her—almost like that of a mother to a daughter. A thought came to her, and she spoke it aloud.
“You should be holding a child of your own, Zara.”
Zara quickly turned, and a strange expression crossed her face. It was fleeting and Sarah could not read it completely. Silently Zara rose and put Isaac into Sarah’s arms. Sarah took the baby and asked, “What’s wrong? Have I offended you?”
“No, of course not, mistress. But I am not sure that I will ever marry.”
“Why, you must!”
“Some women don’t marry.”
“Only those who can’t find a husband. But there must be at least a dozen men who would gladly marry you. I watch their eyes as they follow you.”
Zara shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps someday,” she said, turning away. “I must go fix Eliezer’s meal.”
After Zara left, Sarah shook her head. “She needs to marry. She was made to be a wife and a mother.” Isaac grunted then, and Sarah pulled him up to a sitting position. She poked his fat cheek with her finger and said, “You beautiful baby, you! Your mother loves you, and your father loves you. You’re going to be the most wonderful man who ever lived!”
Chapter 29
A thin moon lay low in the southern sky, faintly lighting the river’s surface. Upstream a rain had fallen, turning what was usuall
y a quiet stream into a frothy turbulence. Abraham and Sarah walked hand in hand along the bank, speaking quietly and watching the youngster who ran ahead of them, stopping from time to time to throw a stone or dabble his feet in the water. Abraham’s senses were alive to the life all around them—beetles and owls, animals small and large. He fancied he could even hear the trees growing, so much did he feel a part of the pulsing life of the earth all around him.
“Don’t fall in the river, son,” Abraham called out.
Isaac stopped and straightened up, and by the faint silvery light the pair could see his smile. “I won’t,” he cried out, “but I just saw a turtle, I think.”
“Don’t let him bite your toes,” Abraham called and watched as the boy splashed the water upward and then ran farther downstream, his feet making a sucking noise in the rich mud of the bank. Overhead the wind was ruffling up the leaves of the small trees in the thicket to their left, and he savored the smell of the land that rose with the earth’s dissipating heat. Overhead the clouds made streaky currents across the ebony sky, swiftly moving ghostly shadows.
Suddenly a star fell, scratching the velvety blackness of the heavens. The two stopped to watch it in wonder, and Sarah said, “I don’t know why, but that always scares me a little.”
Abraham squeezed her hand. “Why should it scare you?”
“I don’t know. If one star falls, another one might. What keeps them from all falling?”
“I don’t know, but I believe that God would never let that happen. I like to think that a falling star is another way God speaks to us, to get our attention and make us think about the wonder and mystery of His creation.”
Sarah contemplated this and then pulled at him. “Come along. Isaac’s getting way ahead of us.”
“He’s growing like a weed, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is,” Sarah agreed. “I can’t imagine what I did without him. It seemed like my life started the day he was born.”
“Mine too, in a way.” He looked up and saw the stars making their pattern across the sky. “Look at them all, Sarah.”
No Woman So Fair Page 32