Have You Met My Sister Sarah?

No, that’s not Sarah. That’s my daughter & I after an Easter confetti fight.

I have a sister.

Sarah is her name.
Okay, I don’t have a sister. I’m lying. I’m afraid of what you would do if you knew my story – my real & unedited story. The truth about who I really am & what makes me tick. The truth about who & what I love. If I am completely honest, I think you will respond in a way that would crush me. 
Kinda like Abraham did. He told a lie about Sarah. Saying she was his sister when she was his wife. Genesis 20 if you don’t know the story. Basically, Abraham’s insecurity got the better of him. He told the king that Sarah was his sister. Sarah must have been a looker because the king took her to be his wife. 
Fast forward. King finds out Sarah is Abraham’s wife. When Abraham is confronted with his lie he tells the king that he assumed the king’s response would be envy. Instead, the king gave Sarah back & blessed Abraham. 
His fear of being attacked was proved wrong. He was blessed & provided for. 
His assumption & vain imagination caused him to look foolish in front of a bunch of people. Plus, I’m pretty sure he had to do some serious damage control with Sarah. Flowers won’t make up for giving your wife to another man because you got nervous. They didn’t have Anthropologie back then, so I’m not really sure what he gave her to make up for it.
I read this story the other day and connected with it more than I would have liked. I get intimidated & assume I know what is going to happen. My defenses blast into full gear & I figure out how to solve my own problem. 
Usually I am wrong just like Abraham. I give my assumption the same value as knowledge. Maybe I will be met with blessing if I don’t pretend. I think I’ll give that a try.

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