Rev. Martha Koenig Stone                                                      

September 14, 2008 -                                     

Henrietta United Church of Christ                                                                 Genesis 18:1-15; 21:1-2

 

Who Would Have Thought It Would Be Like This?

 

I often say to my husband, “I need something to look forward to!”  It might be the next family gathering or the next vacation trip, or the next special event in the community, or the next project to sink my teeth into—not necessarily something big, but something to work toward and anticipate. 

 

We are in the midst of a season of dreaming and planning right now at HUCC.  Our Dreaming team is working on compiling your goals and visions for the congregation and shaping a mission statement that will guide our work in the next few years.  Our Trustees are consulting with an architect to see what kinds of renovations might be possible for our aging building. Our planning team for Unwrapping our Gifts is preparing and adventure of contemplation and story-telling for anyone who wants to explore ways to put their God-given gifts to work.  Our Habitat House is in the works and is scheduled to be ready by Christmas.  And all of our ongoing activities and groups are fully engaged in their own ministries as well—bookworms and knitters and singers and teachers and learners and carpenters.   There’s a lot to look forward to!

 

Planning and dreaming and looking toward the future can be fun!  It’s also quite practical.  Setting goals, clarifying values, and working with a purpose brings families and communities together, and helps us get a lot of good stuff done.  It helps us to find out what’s out of joint or unjust, and what needs attention or fixing.  It helps us to find meaning in life and to feel a sense of accomplishment. 

 

But what if things don’t go as planned?  What if the thing you’re looking forward to never comes to pass?  What if, in spite of all the planning, the project is a flop?  What if someone gets sick, or the vacation is cancelled?  Or what if the plans you imagine for yourself don’t quite correspond with those of your family and friends and community, and you have to let go of some of your dreams?  What if you just don’t have the money to do all that you had hoped?   What if your dreams are never realized, and your goals have to be abandoned?  What if tragedy strikes, and the course of your life is changed forever?     

 

A colleague told me a story this week of a show she’d seen on TV called “Beyond Belief.”  It was about two American women, Susan Retik and Patti Quigley.  Both women were happily married and had families.  Both had big plans—they were each expecting a child.  What a wonderful thing to look forward to!  But on September 11, 2001, Susan and Patti each lost their husbands in the attacks on the World Trade Center.  They were devastated.  Their plans were dashed.

 

Surely neither one of them had expected to be raising their children alone.  This was not the life they had chosen for themselves.  How could they possibly go on, given their tremendous loss and immense grief? 

 

Have you ever had a hope that was dashed?  Or a plan you had to set aside because your life took a different course than you had imagined? 

 

The biblical story of Sarah tells a similar story of disappointment and grief.  Sarah was a woman of beauty and wealth, with a husband who loved her.  She had always dreamed of having a child.  She worked hard to create a safe and welcoming home, and looked forward to the day when she could provide an heir for her husband.  But as the years went on and no child appeared, her dream became more and more remote.  Sarah grieved, and gave up on her plan.  

 

Then, when she was sixty-five, as if to add insult to injury, her husband came to her and asked her to leave her home and all the comforts she had known, and travel with him to a foreign land she knew nothing about.  What should she do?  Leave her family and friends behind?  

 

Well Sarah loved her husband, and she trusted him.  So she decided to leave behind the life she had known, and set out to do something new.  Together, they journeyed forth on a new adventure, not knowing quite what to expect.  What would come of this new life?  How would she cope with all the changes and twists and turns along the way?  Might she have something to look forward to now? 

 

Sarah surely never expected to hear, years later, at age 90, that the time had come for her to have a child.  This was not what she had planned!  This was not the life she had imagined for herself.  And yet, that was what the travelers told her.  What could she possibly have felt at the time?  What was she thinking when she laughed?  Sometimes I wish we could meet her in person, and ask her….

 

Laugh?  You bet I laughed.

 

A deep, disgusted, angry, confused laugh.  And Abraham laughed, too, don’t forget that.  Imagine:  pregnant at my age!  All those years of longing, praying, hoping, dreaming….for what?  Nothing!  More wandering, more loneliness, more nasty remarks form the neighbors: “Oh-how-sad, poor Sarah, barren all these years; I wonder what sin she’s paying for?”

 

And then to be told this bad joke:  pregnant at ninety.  What could I do but laugh?  Crying’s out of the question with something so ludicrous as this. 

 

But then reality—and the anger—set in.  Why now, God?  Why after all these years?  What’s the point?  I’ve never known you to be this cruel! 

 

And yet, after the initial shock, we thought: why not? 

 

God has always been surprising us, shocking us, pushing the limits just a little more each time, inviting us to trust in new and unusual ways.  Was this really any different than all the other challenges? 

 

I remember the night after the messengers had come; Abraham had tipped the bottle a little and crawled into the tent rather sheepishly, almost like a nervous teenager.  He made some silly remark about needing to sleep with me—how it was God’s will—and we laughed and loved into the night. 

 

And when it came true—I was horrified.  All of the joy I had once had, dreaming of giving birth, gave way to deathful fear.  And Abraham held me close, and we cried and questioned together, and wondered, and wondered. 

 

And no small eternity later, Isaac was born, and I whose dreams had all but dried up held that little bundle to my breast.  And as I watched Abraham hold him aloft so proud beyond words, I was overcome with joy and thanksgiving for a God so full of surprises. 

 

Laugh?  You bet I laughed.[1]

 

Who would have thought it would be like this for Sarah?  She had given up on her dreams and plans—no one could have expected this kind of ending to her story!  But Sarah had left a place in her heart open to the stirrings of God and the possibililty of hope.  She had summoned up the courage to go to a new place and try a new adventure.  And when the time was right, she was able to laugh and to embrace God’s plan for her life. 

 

Oh, she still struggled…pregnanacy is hard at any age, and I don’t know how you run after a toddler at age 92!  And Sarah still had to struggle with feelings of resentment and envy towards younger women—like Hagar, Abraham’s concubine, ho had already borne him a son.  But in her best moments, when she let God’s life work in her, Sarah found laughter and love and hope for the future.

 

So it was, also, for Patti and Susan.  When they lost their husbands, they grieved.  But they did not want their lives to be ruled by fear and hatred and sorrow.  So they looked for an avenue for healing and hope.  And from that search came an amazing result:  they decided to travel to Afghanistan, the country that had harbored and trained the men who had killed their husbands, to find a way to bring meaning to their husband’s deaths.  

 

In Afghanistan, Patti and Susan learned that families are suffering on both sides of the conflict, because we human beings just can’t seem to stop fighting. There they met Afghan women who had also lost their husbands through violence.  Widows, just like them!    In fact they learned that the decades of war there have left 500,000 widows who, like Patti & Susan, are struggling to raise their children without fathers.  As they saw the abject poverty in which these women lived, and their hearts were broken again.  But as they heard the women’s stories, a strong bond was formed, and they knew what they had to do.  They found a new direction, a new purpose in their lives—to share some of their wealth and security—and they have started an organization that provides financial and educational resources to Afghan women.  Their grief has turned into resolve and courage.  And although their road is still not easy, they have much to look forward to, as they seek, in their own small way, to bring peace and prosperity to the women of Afghanistan.

Who would have thought that these women could find forgiveness and reconciliation in their hearts?  Yet, this is the reality of our lives: that even in the face of great loss and grief, healing and hope and reconciliation can work in us.  So let us dream and hope and plan together.  And when things don’t go quite as we had imagined, we’ll know it’s time to look for the new life that only God can give. We can move forward with our planning and dreaming, knowing that there’s always something to look forward to!  Because even if things don’t turn out the way we had hoped, we surely have much to learn and experience and share with one another.  With God’s help we know we can find a way to care and laugh and love.  Amen.

 



[1] ©Donald Schmidt, 1997.  Thanks to Judy Hawk for portraying Sarah in this monologue.