Sarah’s Monologue


Curious that she uses me as her example. Who was I but a simple woman? Perhaps she is simple, too, this woman who invokes my story to identify the path she walks.


You may know my story. You’ve heard it said of me, “she laughed.” I did. Wouldn’t you laugh too if you heard ridiculously impossible words like the ones I had?


You’ve read that I was beautiful. I was. So beautiful, in fact, that other kings tried to take me as their own as we were traveling through their land. My husband, ah my dear husband, tried to prevent problems by claiming me his sister.  (laughs) Men! Did he really think…?  (shaking her head).


You know well the story of my sons. One, a promise from God; the other the product of meddling in God’s business. We all lack faith at times.


Yes, I am Sarah, wife of Abraham, mother of Israel. You’ve read about me and think you know my story. Yet there’s more than written lines reveal. You have read the events of our life as if an interesting drama. Yet there was more in our lives than what was seen. There was humanity unseen. Unseen, but not unknown, unseen but not unidentifiable.


To understand, you must go backwards – back to a time before the drama you all know so well. Go to the beginning of our story, before the mistakes and the miracles, before the promises and the faux pas. Go from Genesis 15, 19, or 21 back to the beginning of Genesis 12. That is where my story begins.


Mine is a story of a beating heart, of fear, of untamed trust in the midst of uncertainty, of stepping blindly onto an unknown path.  A simple woman with complicated emotions. A woman uprooted from what I knew and from where I belonged.


“Leave your country, your people, and your father’s household, and go to the land I will show you,” the Lord said to my husband. “I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you.” Abram packed up our tents as the Lord had said, and led us, with our possessions in tow, onward to the land of Canaan.


Generations of cheers honoring our obedience have drowned the sound of my first tears. Everyone appreciates the radical faith and ultimate victories. Few stop to realize what it had cost me. I knew there would be blessings ahead. But that didn’t stop the sorrow I felt and the loss I grieved with that forever goodbye. The strange lands that awaited me, with strange languages and strange customs. The looks other women gave me. I was lonely and rejected, yet I faithfully pressed on with my dear Abram in blind faith. How often my heart bled to see my mother and father, to eat my food, to speak in my own language to my own people.


This, I realize, is why she identifies with me. This simple woman who, like me, packs up and goes on behalf of the call of the Lord. Some with families, some with only her husband, some alone. She goes blindly forward showing a brave smile on the outside, yet an ocean full of battering waves on the inside, raising her up to new heights one moment, then swiftly dropping her down to where wandering questions and copious worries tread. Tears in the night, joy during the day. An infusion of bravery and fear as she sets forward on the path she was given to walk. She kisses the friendly and familiar goodbye only to meet the challenges of loneliness, rejection, and the making of her home in a new world.


Like me, this woman knows blessings will come. She knows victories await her through the trials. Whether it’s a miracle birth of a son, or the miracle re-birth of many sons, she has the assurance of a glorious God that goes before her.


I don’t know her name, this woman. You may not know it either.


Most simply call her “missionary”.


ⓒ I.K.Hadinger 2010 – All rights reserved



9 thoughts on “Sarah’s Monologue

  1. I was asked to find some materials to share with some international students I help work with as we are going to have a girls overnight and thought this would be ideal. I myself am a wife of a pastor. We have traveled several cities and states. We are now retired and the last state we were in was SD. Life up there is so different than anywhere else we lived and this story says a lot of what I went through on our journey especially in SD. Our children and grdchildren were far from us and did not get to see them too often. I would like to share this with these women who are in college. Would that be alright with you?

  2. This design is wicked! You obviously know how to keep a reader
    amused. Between your wit and your videos, I was almost moved to start my own blog (well, almost.
    ..HaHa!) Wonderful job. I really loved what you had to say, and more than that, how you presented it.
    Too cool!

  3. this is an outstanding piece. What beautiful insight from a kindred spirit. What a wonderful and deep perspective. hmmmm. “Most simply call her missionary.” Now, my friend we will call “her” so much more. Thanks for painting a picture with your words. WONDERFUL! hugs

  4. Wow! I have often read over the story of Sarah, thinking that she would be a women who truly understands all the emotions that I have gone through these past two years. Your article sums up alot of how I feel at times. If you do not mind I’d like to post a link to your story on my blog.

    1. Karen – yes, you may link here. I’ve talked to various missionary wives, and this is an “identity topic” that comes up quite a bit. Blessings!

  5. This I wrote for a recent assignment. It doesn’t look anything like what I first penned. But it is from the heart. I’m glad it touched you.

  6. Beautiful story Ilona! I love writing short stories based on bible women too. Powerful impact.


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