Mothers in the Bible: Sarah, Laughter, and Late Motherhood

MOTHERS IN THE BIBLE | NO. 1

Explore the story of Sarah, one of the most memorable mothers in the Bible, and what her laughter reveals about waiting, hope, doubt, and becoming a mother later in life. This reflection looks beyond the miracle of Isaac's birth to linger with the very human emotions inside Sarah's story.

By Julie Tyler Ruiz, PhD, CNC

CONTENTS:

Revisiting the mothers of the Bible
Sarah's long wait for motherhood
What was in Sarah's laugh?
An ancient story with familiar emotions
Sarah laughs again
Reflecting on Sarah's story

Revisiting the mothers of the Bible

Scripture is a good place to turn when we're looking for wisdom about motherhood, including the experience of becoming a mother later in life. The Bible is full of women who longed for children, waited for them, struggled with motherhood, made mistakes, experienced loss, and encountered God in the midst of it all.

After years of feeling somewhat spiritually distant from Scripture, I'm returning to these stories with renewed interest. Rather than taking a scholarly or Bible-study approach, I'm coming to them as a mother and a reader. I'm listening for God's wisdom in these ancient stories, while also looking for the hearts of the women.

Biblical narratives often move quickly. We learn what happened and what someone said. Sometimes we're given a gesture, a facial expression, a tone of voice. But Scripture isn't written like a modern novel, with pages of psychological interiority explaining precisely what a character thinks and feels.

That leaves certain moments that make me want to stop.

In Sarah's story, it's the moment she overhears that, despite her old age and many years without a child, she is going to give birth to a son.

Sarah laughed.

It's such a small, human reaction, and one I want to linger over before rushing ahead to the miracle that comes next.

Sarah's long wait for motherhood

Sarah became a mother at an age so advanced that Scripture itself emphasizes how far beyond the usual childbearing years she had gone. But her story of late motherhood begins much earlier, with years of wanting a child and not having one.

When Sarah—then Sarai—first enters the story, we find out almost immediately that she is unable to have children (Genesis 11:30). God later promises Abraham descendants (Genesis 12:1–3; 15:1–6), but the years continue to pass without Sarah becoming a mother.

Eventually, Sarah gives her servant Hagar to Abraham in an attempt to have a child through her (Genesis 16:1–6). Hagar conceives, and what follows is painful and troubling, including Sarah's harsh treatment of her. Sarah isn't presented to us as an uncomplicated model of patient waiting. Her story includes desperation, jealousy, bad decisions, and harm alongside faith.

Then God makes the promise explicit: Sarah herself will bear Abraham a son (Genesis 17:15–21).

Abraham laughs when he hears it.

And soon afterward, Sarah does too.

What was in Sarah's laugh?

In Genesis 18, Sarah overhears visitors telling Abraham that she will have a son. The text pauses to remind us that Abraham and Sarah are old and that Sarah is already beyond childbearing age.

Then comes the detail I can't stop thinking about.

King James Version, Genesis 18:12:

Therefore Sarah laughed within herself, saying, After I am waxed old shall I have pleasure, my lord being old also?

New International Version:

So Sarah laughed to herself as she thought, 'After I am worn out and my lord is old, will I now have this pleasure?'

English Standard Version:

So Sarah laughed to herself, saying, 'After I am worn out, and my lord is old, shall I have pleasure?'

We know that Sarah laughed. We know that when God asks why she laughed, she becomes afraid and denies it (Genesis 18:13–15).

But what did that laugh sound like?

I don't think Scripture gives us enough to say exactly. Maybe it was simple disbelief. But reading the story as a woman and now as a mother, I find myself lingering there.

Could there have been weariness in the laugh? Bitterness? A scoff? The kind of laugh that escapes when someone suggests something you once wanted desperately but have long since stopped allowing yourself to believe could happen?

Maybe laughing was easier than hoping.

We don't have detailed insight into Sarah's psychology. Scripture doesn't provide it. But her reaction feels profoundly human to me in a way I might have missed before experiencing motherhood myself.

We can read through Sarah's years of childlessness in minutes, moving quickly from one event to the next. But Sarah experienced those years one day at a time. And I can't help wondering what all that waiting might have put into her laugh.

An ancient story with familiar emotions

Sarah's story isn't a promise that if a woman keeps believing, God will eventually give her a baby, even at an advanced age. Sarah received a particular promise within a particular piece of scripture. Turning it into a guarantee for women struggling with infertility today would flatten both her story and theirs.

Still, we can all recognize something of ourselves in her.

There is something familiar in watching time pass while what you desperately want doesn't happen, and in trying to hold on to hope when your circumstances seem to contradict it. Sometimes protecting yourself from disappointment means discovering that faith and doubt can live in the same heart.

God's response to Sarah's doubt is a question: "Is anything too hard for the Lord?" (Genesis 18:14).

I don't hear that as a formula promising us the outcome we want. I'm more interested in sitting with the question itself. What does trusting God look like when we don't know what He will do?

Sarah laughs again

Sarah eventually conceives and gives birth to Isaac, whose name is associated with laughter. In Genesis 21:6, she returns to the image herself: "God hath made me to laugh, so that all that hear will laugh with me."

The first time, Sarah laughs privately at something she cannot imagine happening. The second, she laughs after holding the child she thought impossible to have.

It's tempting to hurry toward that happy ending. But I want to linger over everything contained between those two laughs: years of waiting and disappointment, disbelief and faith, human failure, astonishment and joy.

Reflecting on Sarah's story

Sarah's circumstances were extraordinary, but the emotions surrounding her long wait for motherhood may feel much more familiar. As you sit with her story, consider what her experience of waiting, disbelief, and hope brings up in your own life.

Has there been something you've wanted for so long that continuing to hope began to feel painful or even ridiculous?
When you imagine Sarah laughing inside the tent, what do you hear in her laughter?
Where have faith and doubt, gratitude and grief, or hope and fear existed together in your own life?