Morning Ladies, Here I sit behind my computer, the silence around me echoing the ache in my heart. I’ve been thinking about Sarah – the woman who waited decades for a promise – and about my own loss. In the early hours of this morning, my mother-in-law passed away. By the time you read this, days will have passed, but right now, time feels cruelly frozen.
I never got to see her before she left. We had plans, hopes for a relationship that would grow with time. But time ran out. And my heart is spinning with grief-not just for her absence, but for the moments we never got to share. The conversations we postponed. The healing we imagined. I wish I could turn back the hands of time, but I’ve come to realise: we don’t get that luxury.
Sarah’s story reminds me of this ache. She was beautiful, faithful, and yet she waited – year after year – for a promise that felt too late. She laughed when God said she’d bear a child, not from joy, but disbelief. And still, God fulfilled His word. Her laughter turned from bitter to beautiful. Isaac was born, and his name meant “laughter.”
I’m holding onto that today. That even in the delay, even in the loss, God is still writing. Still redeeming. Still bringing laughter from places we thought were barren.
So if you’re grieving a relationship that never became what you hoped… if you’re mourning time that slipped away… know this: you are not forgotten. You are not too late. And even in the silence, God is near.
That brings me to the crux of this blog – The woman who’s still waiting – She was beautiful. Respected. Married to a man of great faith. And yet, Sarah lived with a silent ache for decades. The ache of barrenness. The ache of watching time slip by while the promise remained unfulfilled.
She wasn’t just waiting for a child – she was waiting for proof that God hadn’t forgotten her.
Sarah’s story is one of delayed hope. She waited until she was 90 years old before she saw the promise come to life. And when God told her she would bear a son, she laughed, not out of joy, but disbelief.
“So Sarah laughed to herself as she thought, ‘After I am worn out and my lord is old, will I now have this pleasure?’”
– Genesis 18:12
Her laughter was raw. Honest. Human.
But God didn’t rebuke her. He didn’t retract the promise. He fulfilled it.
“God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.”
– Genesis 21:6
Isaac’s name means “laughter.” What began as doubt became delight. What felt impossible became undeniable.
Biblical Facts About Sarah
- Sarah’s original name was Sarai, meaning “princess.” God changed it to Sarah, meaning “noblewoman” or “mother of nations” (Genesis 17:15–16).
- She was Abraham’s wife and half-sister (Genesis 20:12), and she traveled with him from Ur to Canaan, sharing in his journey of faith.
- Despite her age, she conceived Isaac through divine intervention, proof that God’s promises override natural limitations (Hebrews 11:11).
What Sarah Means for Us Today
- If you’ve ever felt like your miracle is too late… Sarah understands.
- If you’ve ever laughed bitterly at the idea that God could still use you… Sarah’s story is for you.
- God is not bound by clocks or calendars. He doesn’t operate on human timelines. He operates on His faithfulness.
- Sarah reminds us that delay is not denial. That even shaky faith can still receive a steady promise. That God can turn our laughter of disbelief into laughter of joy.
Life Application
- Don’t stop preparing for the promise.
- Even if your womb feels barren. Even if your dreams feel dusty. Even if your heart feels tired.
- Keep believing. Keep building. Keep praying.
- God is still writing your story. And when the promise comes, it will be so full of joy that others will laugh with you, not at you.
“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.”
– Hebrews 10:23
You are not forgotten. You are not too old. You are not too late.
You are still chosen.
Father God, You are the Keeper of time and the Giver of promises.
You saw Sarah in her waiting, in her wondering, in her weary laughter, and You never turned away.
You spoke life into what looked lifeless. You brought joy where there had been sorrow.
You fulfilled Your word, not because she was strong, but because You are faithful.
So today, I bring You my own ache.
The dreams that feel delayed.
The prayers that feel unanswered.
The hope that flickers but refuses to die.
Teach me to trust You in the waiting.
To prepare even when I don’t yet see.
To believe even when my faith feels fragile.
To laugh again, not in disbelief, but in delight.
Let my story echo Sarah’s:
That others may hear and laugh with me.
That Your glory may shine through my testimony.
That Your timing may prove perfect, even when it feels late.
I choose to believe:
Delay is not denial.
Barrenness is not the end.
And Your promise will not return void.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
