A Window Into the Heart
Genesis 16 is one of those passages that feels uncomfortably honest. Sarai suggests a solution to her pain, and Abram agrees. In no time, Hagar is pregnant with a child who was meant to be a blessing, but quickly became a source of tension. The text tells us that Hagar begins to look at Sarai with contempt, and Sarai responds harshly.
It’s easy to pick sides in this story. Hagar shouldn’t have responded that way. Sarai shouldn’t have treated her so harshly. Both are true. But there’s something deeper going on beneath the surface. Sarai’s reaction isn’t just about Hagar’s behavior; it’s about what that behavior stirred up inside of her.
Hagar’s pregnancy becomes a living reminder of everything Sarai is carrying: her barrenness, her disappointment, and perhaps even her regret over the decision that she made. Instead of processing those emotions, they come out in all sorts of destructive ways. What began as pain turns into blame. What began as insecurity turns into contempt.
This is where the story becomes more familiar than we might like to admit. Because while the details are much different, we’ve all had moments like this. Moments when our reaction is stronger than the situation. When something small sets us off in a big way. Those times when we’re quick to assign motives, quick to judge, and quick to distance ourselves.
When this happens, our problems snowball into something bigger. The original offense is still a problem, but the intensity of our response often makes things worse and reveals something more.
Sometimes, the things we react most strongly to in others are connected to things we haven’t fully dealt with in ourselves. Maybe Sarai’s reaction toward Hagar said more about her own choices than anything that Hagar did.
It doesn’t mean the other person is innocent. But it does mean our reaction might be a window into our own hearts. A window into unresolved hurt, hidden insecurities, regret, or fear.
If we’re willing to pause rather than react with harshness or defensiveness, that window can become an invitation. An invitation to ask:
“Why did that affect me so deeply?”
“What is this stirring up in me?”
“Is there something here that God wants to gently bring into the light?”
Growth rarely tends to happen in a moment of reaction. It happens in the moment of reflection.
So today, pay attention to what triggers you.
Not just so you can manage your reactions better, but so you can better understand your own heart. Because sometimes, the very thing that frustrates you most in others is the place where God is most ready to meet you, shape you, and lead you into freedom.
Josh Rose
Family Pastor
Sees Me Through a Mess
The angel of the Lord found Hagar near a spring in the desert… “Hagar, servant of Sarai, where have you come from, and where are you going?” … “You shall name him Ishmael, for the Lord has heard of your misery.” She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” (Genesis 16:7-13)
Hagar was an Egyptian slave, which means she had little to no rights or cultural standing. Her master and mistress were blessed and had much, so she probably lived comparably well for someone in her station. Then her whole world flipped when she was co-opted into an ill-advised scheme by Sarai. She became the second wife of Abram and the surrogate mother of the child of promise. Relationships soured, and abuse was allowed to fester as Abram turned a blind eye.
She fled and encountered the Lord in the desert. He opened by stating her whole identity up to that point. She was then told she would bear a son. God Himself named the boy Ishmael, which means “God hears,” and promised that his descendants would be too numerous to count. Most importantly, the Lord had seen her misery and heard her cries. That was enough for Hagar to walk away worshiping, even though she was told to return and submit, and her son would become a hostile man. She had hope tailor-made for her! The difficulties of the future were manageable now.
This biblical account made me think of my dad, who struggled with the despair of my accident. At 18 months of age, I was comatose for months while the doctors actively discouraged hope for any recovery. The Lord showed him one specific tree in an office park plaza. This tree was noticeably big and beautiful, but the branches were gnarled, twisted, and shooting out in non-standard directions, messy and untamed, yet strikingly beautiful. “Your son will be like this tree,” God impressed on him. That picture didn’t fix the situation or promise an easy recovery, but it brought genuine encouragement right in the middle of the pain. Put simply, it was hope. God knew a way to give my dad hope because He still is El Roi.
Oftentimes, we are dismayed and shut down by a difficult future. I think Hagar’s name for God is key. God sees us, and he knows how to feed our souls. He can give us the exact perspective we need to have an abundance of hope. He is an exceedingly good God; he is Jehovah El Roi!
Jonathan Duncan
EFCC Member
The God Who Asks Questions
All knowing. All powerful. Always present in all places. That’s our Omniscient, Omnipotent, Omnipresent God.
We love superheroes; it’s awesome that someone could have extreme powers or abilities far beyond average. The impossible idea that someone could travel through time fascinates people. To journey into the future, or the past, or even another dimension is crazy to imagine.
But, all-knowing? Maybe that’s the most outrageous of them all. An all-knowing God formed us, and knew us long before we took our first breath. The Lord told Jeremiah the prophet: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”
Only an all-knowing God could make such a claim.
In Genesis 16, Abram listened to his wife Sarai’s “great idea” to sleep with her maidservant Hagar in order to “help God” a little bit, and bring the promised child into the world. When Hagar became pregnant, Sarai, out of bitter jealousy, mistreated her badly, and Hagar fled from Sarai:
“The angel of the LORD found Hagar near a spring in the desert; it was the spring that is beside the road to Shur. And he said, ‘Hagar, servant of Sarai, where have you come from, and where are you going?’ ‘I’m running away from my mistress Sarai,’ she answered.” Genesis 16:7-8 (NIV)
The LORD asks Hagar two questions. Yahweh God, who created the heavens, the Earth and everything in them, who knew Hagar from before she was born, asks her where she came from and where she’s going. Why did all-knowing God ask questions? It wasn’t because He did not know.
God created Hagar and every other living soul to be in relationship with him. One of the best ways to deepen a relationship with somebody is to ask questions and allow them to share with you—as honest and confiding as they wish to be. What they share with you reveals how much they trust you.
Without hesitation, Hagar trusted the LORD with truth. He knew she was running. He knew every why—all the before, all the after. But He asked her anyway because He wanted her to know that He saw her, loved her and cared about her comings, her goings and everything else.
If the LORD asked those questions today, how would you answer? What in your past is painful? What about the future scares you? Will you be honest with God and follow His leading?
Donielle Winter
EFCC Member
The Disappointment Drift
Genesis 16:2
There’s a statement that Sarai makes in Genesis 16 that really made me think. After years of waiting, years of hoping, years of disappointment, Sarai reaches a conclusion… “The Lord has prevented me from bearing children” (Genesis 16:2).
God neither confirms nor denies the validity of her statement. Was God the cause of Sarai’s barrenness? We’re not sure. That’s a question the story leaves hanging without any resolution. But here’s what really struck me about Sarai’s comment: she talks about God, but she never talks to God.
I have the sense that her statement is more than just an observation; she is interpreting her pain. Somewhere along the way, disappointment hardened into an assumption that God was on the other end of her heartache. God had made a promise, but time had worn her down. The silence felt louder than the promise, and instead of bringing her ache to God, she began managing life around God.
It hit me that this not-so-subtle shift of talking about God, but not to Him, can shape our lives as well. We theologize about our pain instead of praying through it. We draw conclusions about God’s character based on our circumstances. We say things like, “God must not care,” or “Maybe this is just how my life will always be,” or “I guess God closed that door.” And maybe we never say those words out loud, but we live from them. Think about this… our prayerlessness is often driven more by disappointment with God than it is by busyness.
See, it’s possible to believe in God while quietly withdrawing from Him. It’s possible to discuss God, study God, even serve God, while our hearts remain guarded and distant. Pain can do that; it’s quite powerful. Unanswered prayers can slowly turn conversation with God into conversation about God.
The invitation of Scripture is always relational before it is practical. God would rather hear the honest ache of Sarai’s heart than watch her carry it alone. The Psalms show us this over and over again. Biblical faith is not pretending everything is fine. It’s bringing the real thing into God’s presence. Confusion. Anger. Grief. Longing. Questions. All of it. The tragedy in Genesis 16 is not simply that Sarai came up with a bad plan. It’s that she stopped bringing her pain to the One who made the promise.
And maybe that’s the invitation for us today. Before you figure it out, fix it, numb it, or control it… Talk to God. Not just about Him; to Him. Because faith grows in conversation with God, not in conclusions about Him.
Ryan Paulson
Lead Pastor
Faith in the Face of Pain
Series: Count the Stars: Living by Faith Between Promise and Fulfillment
Text: Genesis 16:1-16
Speaker: Ryan Paulson, Lead Pastor
May 10, 2026: On Sunday, Lead Pastor Ryan Paulson continued our current sermon series, Count the Stars, on the life of Abraham from the Old Testament book of Genesis. The next sermon message is titled “Faith in the Face of Pain.”
You Can Be Sure
“I know the One in whom I trust, and I am sure that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him until the day of His return.” (2 Timothy 1:13b (NLT)
Benjamin Franklin wrote the last of his famous quotes about five months before his death. In November 1789, he wrote to a friend of his in France, a scientist named Jean-Baptiste Le Roy. In the letter, Franklin told him about the ratification of the Constitution and the beginning of a new government under it. Franklin said, “Our new Constitution is now established, everything seems to promise it will be durable; but, in this world, nothing is certain except death and taxes.”
The fatalistic quote about “death and taxes” has been repeated for over two centuries in our country. While we can understand what Franklin meant, the idea that they are the only things one can be certain of in this world is sad at best. In Genesis 15:13, the Lord says to Abram, “You can be sure…” Those words made me think of many things that God wants each of us to be sure about while in this world. Here is a short list of a few of them:
You can be sure God loves you beyond human comprehension.
You can be sure the shedding of Jesus’ blood atones for all your sins.
You can be sure nothing separates you from God’s love.
You can be sure Jesus is preparing a place for you so you will be with Him.
You can be sure the darkness is not dark to Him, and you are never alone.
You can be sure that Jesus’ resurrection proves death is defeated.
You can be sure that fervent prayer avails much.
You can be sure surrender to Him brings freedom.
You can be sure ____________________________.
What other truths might you put in this space? This could lead to an interesting conversation over a family meal!
What we are sure of makes a difference in how we walk this journey with the LORD. The 2 Timothy 1:13b verse is our response to what we are sure of, and it is reflected in our actions in this world. How have you seen this in your walk?
Prayer: Father, thank You that You want us to be certain about truth. If there is truth that I am not sure about, please show me what it is. I want to walk the journey well that You have for me, and to live for Your glory until the day of Jesus’ return. In His name, Amen.
Francie Overstreet
EFCC Member
Signed, Sealed, Delivered
When the sun had gone down, and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your offspring I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates.
(Genesis 15:17-18)
Toward the end of last year, my lease was coming to an end, and I started searching for a new place to live. A couple of my friends had been working on an ADU on their property, so I asked my friend when it would be done. It was still a few months away from being finished, but she and I had agreed that I could move in when it was done. It wasn’t until February 1st that I actually signed the new lease. Our handshake agreement is now a legally binding contract.
If you recall, God promised the land of Canaan and generations of descendants to Abram in Genesis 12. This moment in Genesis 15 is when that promise became formal. In Abram’s time, this ritual of covenant-making was highly common. The process of gathering animals, cutting them in half, and passing between the pieces was a system he was familiar with. The important thing to note about this particular covenant is that Abram did not walk through the carcasses.
As the sun was going down, Abram fell into a deep sleep. During that time, the presence of the Lord alone passed between the animals, sealing the covenant. What this tells us is that if either party were to fail to uphold their end, the negative consequences would fall solely on God. Better yet, even if Abram was unfaithful, the Lord would still deliver. The complete fulfillment of that promise would even outlive Abram. The act of this particular covenant removes any suspicion that God’s faithfulness is dependent on our participation. This was also proven in the time between the initial promise and the signed contract. At this time, Abram had offered up his wife to Pharaoh, separated from his nephew, and engaged in war. The Lord’s faithfulness would continue to be proven after Abram and Sarai took certain matters into their own hands in Genesis 16.
The formal agreement between the Lord and Abram was not for God’s sake; it was for Abram’s. The promise was not contingent on his performance. All Abram could do was receive it.
Lift up your eyes, receive the promise.
Kassie Lowe
Young Adults Lead
Starry-Eyed Perspective
Genesis 15:5
Abram was stuck under an eight-foot ceiling made of goat hair. He wasn’t literally held captive there, but functionally, he was starting to lose sight of God, who was able to do more. Inside his tent, his vision was limited to what felt possible, what he could measure, and what he could control. And for Abram, that meant one painful reality: no child, no heir, no fulfillment of God’s promise.
So God does something simple, but profound. He told Abram to “Go outside” (Genesis 15:5). That’s it. He doesn’t lecture him or argue with him. Just a relocation. One of the things that strikes me is that sometimes the problem isn’t God’s promise, it’s our perspective.
The moment Abram steps outside, everything changes. The ceiling disappears. The sky stretches endlessly above him. And God says, “Look up. Count the stars… so shall your descendants be” (Genesis 15:5). In other words, He was saying, “Stop measuring My power by your limitations.”
We do this all the time. Let me be more personal… I do this all the time. We take the infinite promises of God and shrink them down to the size of our experience. We put eight-foot ceilings on a limitless God. We assume it’s too late, too broken, too far gone. But God’s invitation is always the same: Come outside and see differently.
There’s something about getting outside, literally and spiritually, that resets us. Researchers talk about how time in nature recalibrates the brain. Stress drops, creativity rises, and our perspective widens. It should come as no surprise that Scripture has been showing us this for centuries. God meets people in wide-open spaces. Moses at a burning bush. David in the wilderness. Elijah on the mountain. Jesus in the desert.
Why? Because it’s hard to encounter a big God when your world feels small. And maybe that’s where you are right now. Maybe life has shrunk, or your vision has narrowed. Maybe your faith feels confined to what you can see and solve.
What if what you need isn’t more striving, but a change of scenery? Take a field trip on your own two feet. Step outside and lift your eyes. Really, do it! Let creation preach to you. The same God who spoke the stars into existence and calls them out each night by name (Isaiah 40:26) is still at work in your life. It’s never too little, and it’s never too late.
Abram believed God, not because his circumstances changed, but because his perspective did. So today, get out of the tent, look up, and count the stars. And remember: “He is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us” (Ephesians 3:20).
Ryan Paulson
Lead Pastor
Faith in the Gap
Series: Count the Stars: Living by Faith Between Promise and Fulfillment
Text: Genesis 15:1-21
Speaker: Ryan Paulson, Lead Pastor
May 3, 2026: On Sunday, Lead Pastor Ryan Paulson continued our current sermon series on the life of Abraham from the Old Testament book of Genesis, Count the Stars: Living by Faith Between Promise and Fulfillment. The next sermon message is titled “Faith in the Gap.”
The Tale Of Two Blessings
The king of Sodom said to Abram, “Give me the people and keep the goods for yourself.” But Abram said to the king of Sodom, “With raised hand I have sworn an oath to the Lord, God Most High, Creator of heaven and earth, that I will accept nothing belonging to you, not even a thread or the strap of a sandal, so that you will never be able to say, ‘I made Abram rich.’” (Genesis 14:21-23)
A few years ago, my best friend had been working as a nanny for a family. This family paid her in cash and it appeared to be a sort of under-the-table arrangement. Turns out, when tax season came around, her employers reported her work on their taxes. My best friend now suddenly owed nearly $3,000 to the IRS, and this agreement felt less mutually beneficial. The illusion of this “gift” ended up costing her much more than she would’ve expected.
This “blessing” from the king of Sodom to Abram feels similar. It’s not only in direct opposition to the blessing Abram received from Melchizedek, but it also reveals his motivation. The king of Sodom shows his hand. Like a Trojan horse, this was a blessing with hidden consequences. Abram realized that this gift wasn’t worth the subsequent cost. He avoided the possibility of this king trying to call in a chit from Abram further down the line.
Abram was not looking for admiration or acknowledgment, but this king was. It’s likely that he intended to use this relationship to elevate himself. The king was virtue-signaling to the rest of the community. Abram understood that this blessing looked more like chains than it looked like freedom. He protected himself from being corrupted by bad company. If he had aligned with the king of Sodom, this story would’ve ended very differently.
The tale of these two blessings demonstrates that the voices that we listen to matter. In a culture oversaturated with opinions and noise, tuning our ears to recognize the truth of the Scriptures is immensely important. When we recognize the sound of true blessing, the rest is just noise.
Kassie Lowe
Young Adults Lead