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Conniving Women, Spineless Men, and God’s Kind of Sympathy.

Melissa Beene Ford/ faith

Once upon a time a man named Abram was told by God himself that he’d be a big deal. Notorious. And God promised him offspring. Lots and lots of really important offspring. I mean, like, God was going to bless him big.

The problem was, time ticked on by, because God doesn’t seem to be encumbered by the same clock we humans are, and Abram and his wife Sarai found themselves elderly folks in their nineties, the age when most of us are dead, and…. still no bundle of joy. And clearly, well… there’s no maternity wing down at the old folks’ home, know what I’m sayin’?

But Abram knew what he’d been promised. And Sarai knew what Abram had been promised. Should have gone without saying that as Abram’s wife, God’s promise would have been half hers… The trouble is, Sarai was a woman, and back in that day a woman’s only value was in popping out offspring for their husbands. If they couldn’t procreate, by gosh, women were worthless, and it was their duty to offer up one of their servants or somebody, some way, some how, to give birth to their husband’s baby. And Sarai being a woman meant that she was intrinsically conniving and manipulative, like most women are {present company excluded, of course}. And she did what EVE did… and probably all women at one time or another since then… she questioned what God really said.

Did God really intend for ME to be the baby’s momma? Because … I think God only said something about Abram’s offspring, not mine… So Sarai’s faith faltered and she failed to wait for God to come through on His promise and failed to let her husband be the head of the family and connived to manipulate him to impregnate her maidservant, Hagar. And Abram, being intrinsically spineless like most men are {my own excluded, of course}, let his wife manipulate him and failed to wait for God and failed to stand up and be a real man and have some character and be faithful to Sarai {at least in this instance.} Shame on him. I mean, it was the custom of the day and all, but God’s people should behave better than the rest of the world, AMEN?

Hagar has always sounded like ‘Hag’ to me, but whatever. I’m sure she was at least somewhat young and moderately attractive and in my mind should have been named something better than Hagar, but that’s all beside the point; I didn’t write the story.

Well, Hagar did indeed become pregnant, and as you can imagine tensions between the women escalated. Here Sarai was Abram’s wife, with all the benefits of being married to Mr. Big, getting to live in the big tent, drive the LX 570, and eat lunch at the country club while sweaty, fat as a barn, and nauseated Hagar had to sleep in the servant’s tent out back. Sarai resented Hagar and her growing belly, and Hagar resented Sarai having all the benefits of being the wife with none of this sweaty pregnancy hassle.

So Sarai had E.NOUGH. and went to Abram to FIX. THIS., and him being the spineless cowardly excuse for a man that he was, told Sarai that it wasn’t HIS problem, and she could do whatever she wanted with Hagar because he had a tee time to get to.

So Sarai let the air out of Hagar’s tires, left mean comments on her blog, and sent her hateful text messages in the middle of the night because that’s what jealous, conniving, manipulative women do, and Hagar decided she had done had enough and took her pregnant self and LEFT. She came to a spring in the desert and while she was sitting there having a pity party and uploading this to her Facebook profile,

THE angel of the Lord heard her crying and came to help her. THE angel of the Lord, not just an angel of the Lord. There is an important difference, and you can research that if you want.

Now, if you’ll notice… God had sympathy on Hagar. He heard her cries; here she was in a bad situation NOT of her own making, and God saw her there, trapped by the bad choices of a spineless man, and blessed her.

The angel of the Lord didn’t say, “Oh, you poor thing! Let’s go eat some ice cream and watch Lifetime movies all day and talk about all the ways men have done us wrong.” NO, God’s sympathy isn’t like that.

“Look, put down the iPhone and listen to me,” the angel said. “You need to suck it up, stop the Facebook man-bashing and get on back home. Submit to your master, because this is all going to be worth your while, I promise… but you do have to submit.” So Hagar returned home and gave birth to Ishmael who became the father of all the middle eastern countries surrounding Israel.

And that, right there, is the whole point of this blog post: God heard her cries as she was trapped there in a situation she didn’t create. God blessed her. God did NOT, however, encourage her to sit around and be depressed about her lot in life inflicted upon her because of a spineless man’s bad choices (ahem). She could have been left to give birth out there in the desert where they both would have withered and died; but God heard her and came after her. And I love that about God. I’ve seen him do that over and over.

~~~~~~~~~~

The story doesn’t stop there though. Hagar’s son, Ishmael? The Bible says

He will be a wild donkey of a man; his hand will be against everyone and everyone’s hand against him, and he will live in hostility toward all his brothers.


Wild donkey? Hostility? Hand against everyone? Sound like any middle eastern countries surrounding Israel that you know of?

Remember how Abram and Sarai failed to trust God and wait for his timing and took things into their own hands and the end result was a baby named Ishmael?

Yeah. 

Sins have consequences, some of them bigger than others with really bad consequences for the entire world for generations to come. So trust God, wait for his timing, and if you’re tempted at all to impregnate your wife’s hand maiden, just know that it would be best if you didn’t.

The end.

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  1. Marksgirl Tlb says

    January 18, 2013 at 4:16 am

    We just read this story today! Although it didn't read quite the way you wrote it 😉 the sentiment was still the same.

    Reply

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About Me


Hey there... I'm Melissa! Texas girl. Mom to three + one goldendoodle. Believer. Old house fanatic. Creating a happy + healthy home with purpose is my passion. I'm so glad you're here!

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I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 years of paint off of this door down to the wood and start over… but that person has no business starting new projects. 😅 My neighbors must have thought this project would never end. *I* thought this project would never end. 😰 If you’re thinking of doing this yourself? Just don’t, ok? Throw the whole door away and buy a new one. 😂🤣 Just kidding.  Old house weirdos like me… we can’t just do things the easy way. Anyhoo… after some trial and error, @sherwinwilliams Celestial is what I landed on, and I have to say… I like it. Periwinkle-ish blue looks great with the yellow house and will look even better when the azaleas are in bloom. Was it all worth it? That’s not important right now. 🤭 Will I do this all again in two years? The magic eight ball says… without a doubt. 👏🏻 I’ve already picked the next color. #gluttonforpunishment #somefoolsneverlearn #oldhouselove #oldhomelove #makinghome #southernliving #gardenandgun #azaleadistrict #tylertx
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2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrollin 2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrolling through my pics from the last twelve months made me realize how blessed and content I am. Prosperity, love, and peace have been ours in abundance, in spite of the pain of losing my dad. The second picture is the last picture of him… the last time I saw him. 💔 But God has been good to my family this year and 2022 is ending far better than it began. 😄 #2022inreview #thanksforthememories
Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍ Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍♀️
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That’s it. That’s the tour. (Slide two). 
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It’s a new trend I’m starting: bare Christmas tree. Lowe’s tag still attached (so quirky and unexpected)! Christmas ornaments still in boxes. Coming soon to an Anthropologie window display near you. 
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Every year I think, “next year I’ll do better. Next year I’ll have it together.” And then, here we are on the SIXTH Christmas that we’ve been in this house, the sixth Christmas I’ve dragged our chaotic bunch of Christmas mess out of a chaotic garage I still haven’t unpacked from our move six years ago. 
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Maybe this year is the year I’ll organize it all and put it back neatly so that by Christmas number 7, it will be smooth sailing. People will flock to my social media to see how I’ve pulled everything off SO PERFECTLY. Next year will be my year. 
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Seems every year there’s less and less bandwidth for all these things. There’s more grief and stress, less money. More demands, less grace. 
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I put this sign on the wall in my office so I could keep it in front of my eyes: Love. Joy. Peace. And all that. I am SO unlike Jesus most days. So lacking in all of these character qualities. And that’s WITH waking up most mornings and spending my first 30 minutes with God Himself. 
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How lost would I be without that? Geez. I can’t fathom. I REQUIRE being transformed by renewing my mind every single morning, and even then, responding to people and life with love, joy, peace and patience doesn’t come naturally. 
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It’s the goal, though. 
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This weary world needs that from us Believers during this season, more than ever… even more than an Anthropologie-window-display worthy Christmas home tour. 
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I’m working on both.
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