Is Anything too Hard for the Lord? {DWITW 365}


So Sarah laughed to herself. Whenever I read this part of Sarah and Abraham’s story, a resounding, “Girrrrrl, yes!” lets loose from somewhere deep in my belly. I think about Sarah, ninety-years old, having become accustomed to her life as a wife. I imagine after years of trying, hoping, praying... yet never knowing the feeling of growth inside her womb, Sarah had settled into her life, learning to dance with the lack of motherhood. We get used to these things, ya know? We hope. We walk through dry seasons with parched souls, and an ache that feels as if it will never leave, but we often come to a place of, ‘Okay, Lord. If not this, show me what will be.’ I imagine that’s where Sarah was. She was working on getting those cakes ready for the men who were visiting. Her brow was sweaty with the work of kneading, but she persists in the preparation. She’s doing her thing when she hears it, “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife shall have a son.”
Can you imagine what she must have felt? Was there a tremble of butterflies in her stomach? Anger coursing through her veins? Disbelief? A flicker of faint hope? Perhaps it was a blend of all. And so, all she could do was laugh. But can you blame her? I think about what I might’ve said, or felt, or done in a moment like that – it certainly would’ve been less graceful than Sarah’s response.

‘Well, sure. Give me a baby now – as my life is winding down, when I’m too old to sit on the floor and get back up easily, when I won’t be able to chase after a toddler who just won’t sit still. After all my friends have raised their kids and are now great-grandparents, give me that go at motherhood. Awesome. Yeah. Okay.’

I want to believe, when I read through my well-worn Bible, I am better than all those who’ve come before me. I would not become bitter with mourning like Naomi. I wouldn’t question God’s presence like the Israelites. I would’ve stayed away from that tree and its forbidden fruit and, unlike Eve, I’d tell that serpent to get lost. But who exactly am I trying to convince? I think Sarah and I actually have a kindred-spirit sort of situation happening here. We both long for things not readily available to us. We both try to handle situations on our own, blindingly resolute in the belief that we know best. And then, when there’s a taste of what is to come for us, after all this time, we both get shockingly bratty and petulant in our response. I see myself in Sarah as she laughs to herself, kneading the cakes, in disbelief. I’d like to pull her close, lace my fingers with hers and whisper, “I’m with you, sister. I get it.”
I read about Sarah laughing to myself and I nod in knowing where she is. But what I love, even more than how much I see myself in Sarah’s response, is how God’s response to her has no lingering reflection of selfish, human flesh.The Lord hears Sarah laugh and mutter under her breath. And let’s be real -  He’s the King, so He was well within His right to say, “Nah, girl. I take it back. If you’re gonna act like a child, I won’t be giving you a child.” Instead, like every wise adult I’ve ever known, He poses a question. He poses a question to which each of us already knows the answer.

“’Is anything too hard for the Lord?’” How often do we each need to ask ourselves this question in the midst of trial? In seasons of wanting, what sorrows might we save ourselves from by reminding our hearts Whom it is we call Father? Do we ever come across scenarios in which the Lord says, “Actually, ya know, I’m not sure that’s within my job description, so I’m gonna pass?”. We don’t.

Is anything too hard for the Lord? 

Again and again, we read experiences and narratives in which the Lord shows up and breathes life into the breathlessness by saying, “I will . . .”


I will establish my covenant between me and you and your offspring after you throughout their generations . . .” (Genesis 17:7)

I will bless her . . .” (Genesis 17:16)

I will not leave you . . .” (Genesis 28:15)

I will set shepherds over them who will care for them, and they shall fear no more, nor be dismayed, neither shall any be missing, declares the Lord.” (Jeremiah 23:4)

I will set my eyes on them for good . . . I will build them up . . . I will plant them . . . I will give them a heart to know that I am the Lord . . .” (Jeremiah 24:6-7)

I will turn their mourning into joy; I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow.” (Jeremiah 31:13)


I can’t find blame for Sarah – her story of waiting and questioning rings similar to my own. She is a woman longing for more. She momentarily loses sight of her Father’s magnificence and capability. But thankfully for girls like us, humans like you, me, and Sarah - we are not known and seen by a King who reacts, decides, and gives like we do. Instead our good Father goes before every last moment of doubt or embittered laughter we have to offer, and He swiftly comes with a word of promise. And praise Him - He is behind every gift we will never deserve, but still receive.

So while Sarah, in her tent kitchen, kneaded dough for cakes and laughed in mocking for what was before her I also imagine the laughter ringing after she gave birth to her boy, and I have to believe it was laced with the peace that comes with knowing God will come through. He will. And He still does.


Steph Duff wants to live in a world where every human, whether small or regular-sized, learns to use their voice and is seen and known. When she's not traveling and story telling with Back2Back Ministries, you'll likely find her drinking excessive cups of coffee, with her nose in a book, or daydreaming about India. Her favorite scripture is Habakkuk 1:5, and she prays for a world in which Jesus is the name on every lip. Learn a little more about her love for semi-colons, what stirs her blood, and the yearnings of her heart over at