— The God Who Guards the Promise

Abraham journeyed south
into the land of Gerar,
carrying an old fear
folded beneath his robe.

She is my sister,
he said,
and the half-truth fell
like a shadow
across the promise.

So the king took Sarah,
and the promise trembled,
a small flame
carried into a stranger’s house.

But God came to the king
in a dream of the night,
not as thunder,
but as a voice
moving through the dark rooms of sleep.

She belongs to another.

And the stranger answered,
My heart was whole.
My hands were clean.

I know, said God.
It was I who held you back.

Mercy had gone ahead
into the stranger’s house
before anyone knew
there was danger.

At dawn the king called Abraham.
What have you done?

I thought,
Abraham said,
there is no fear of God in this place.

Yet God was already there,
in the stranger’s conscience,
in the dream,
in the hand that did not touch.

How often I have feared
the very places
where God was waiting for me.

Sarah was returned,
honored,
her name covered with silver
and lifted from shame.

And the one who failed
was asked to pray.
Abraham lifted his hands,
and God healed the stranger’s house.
The closed wombs opened
like sealed gardens
after long drought.

The promise was not guarded
by Abraham’s courage.
It was guarded
by the faithfulness of God.

Lord who guards the promise,
when my fear tells half-truths,
go ahead of me into the stranger’s house.
Hold back what I cannot hold back.
Then let my failing hands still pray,
and open what was closed.