What else was there to do?  That’s what my husband, Abraham, said to me when he decided to lie and tell the king I was his sister.  He told me that my beauty was dangerous.  That the strangers would kill him and take me if they realized I was his wife.  We both knew what would happen next… because it had happened before.  The first time, the Pharaoh of Egypt took me into his harem, and Abraham stood by and said nothing.  Eventually, Abraham’s God cursed the house of Pharaoh and I was returned to my husband.  But I couldn’t forget what had happened.  How do you forget that kind of betrayal?  My own husband was willing to let me be used in order to save himself.  And years later, the story was repeating itself.  Can we ever escape our past?  Or does it haunt us forever, under different names and different faces?  So much time had passed; so much had happened.  God had declared that I would bear Abraham a son–a fulfillment to all the promises God once made to us.  How would I give Abraham a son if I belonged to another man?  How could God’s plan possibly work now?  The king Abimelech took me from my husband, but this time, God protected me.  He went to Abimelech in a dream and told him that I was Abraham’s wife.  Abimelech never touched me.  Again, I was returned to my husband.  And now, I hold my son Isaac in my arms.  The child of promise.  I know that my God is faithful, even when those around me are not.  My God is faithful.


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