Genesis 21

I have to start out by acknowledging that this chapter ends with Abraham interacting with his old pal Abimelek from chapter 20. However, I admit I don't really know what to make of it; several culture-specific logical leaps seem to be going on which I'm not quite grasping. At any rate, what I can glean from the relationship between Abraham and Abimelek is already discussed in the post for chapter 20.

After waiting decades, Abraham finally sees his promise from God fulfilled with the birth of his first son, Isaac. (Or, as Hiro from Heroes would say it, "Mr. E-Sock.") Sarah rather disingenuously asks in verse 7, "Who would have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children?" Well, Sarah, you know perfectly well who, but you just didn't believe Him.

My discernment is not yet refined enough for me to hear concrete promises from God. And yet when I (kind of) prayed for a job, God gave me one right when I needed to start paying off my student loans. Just after high school, when I started wondering if it might benefit me to form a social circle outside my family, God sent me a wonderful, understanding, slightly eccentric group of friends from my church to fellowship with (though I'm probably the most bizarre of them all.) Like most humans, I have multifarious desires: increased motivation, the ability to be more orally articulate, a significant other, the strength to open a Gatorade bottle, the ability to simultaneously play the bagpipes and ride a unicycle while juggling six live meerkats…the list goes on and on. Yet God knows which one of my desires (if any) I need to grow in my relationship with Him and fulfill His plans for me. I'm banking on the bagpipes/unicycle/meerkat juggling.

Despite Abraham and Sarah's joy at their son's birth, a shadow soon creeps in: There's the little matter of Hagar and Ishmael to deal with. This time, God does give His approval for Abraham to send the two off as He will provide for them. Sometimes, I have to be careful not to be too prideful and think that only I can "save" someone or am his or her only path to God. That may be true in some cases, but God has so many people other than me that He can use. Maybe we're only meant to play a small--but still crucial--part in people's lives, but I know it can be difficult for me to eschew the perspective of a self-centric universe.

Abraham's situation is a little different because I get the sense that he kind of wanted to get Hagar and Ishmael out of his hair. I also realize I'm reaching with this connection, but hey, this is what's coming to my mind. But say you have a girlfriend/boyfriend whom you're absolutely enamored with--but then they find someone else. It can sometimes be difficult to admit that they may be better off with that person. (There's no shortage of books or movies with this general trope.) Likewise, if we truly care about someone's spiritual well-being, sometimes we have to acknowledge that we might not be the final conduits through which the good news will reach her or him. Obviously, that doesn't mean that we should just say, "Screw it, God will just use someone else." But if we're really walking with God, then we should be willing to let Him work through us in ways big and (from our perspectives) small. I'm human; although public approbation makes me feel uncomfortable, private commendation sure makes me feel swell. Thus, I do grant that I have to put these words into practice myself and realize that not all (or even any) the work I do for God (little as it may currently be) will elicit approval or perceptible change. Not all of us can be Billy Graham, but if it is God's plan for us to work in "small" ways out of the public eye, then that makes our work no less important.