She Laughed Again

The child lay against her, his breath rising and falling.
She watched his face.
The slow closing of his eyes. The brief, restless stirring.
A sound came from within her.
Soft at first. Barely more than breath.
She covered her mouth, trying to keep it in.
But it came. Again.
A sound she had heard—a sound she had made—years ago, when voices had spoken of things that seemed impossible. She had turned away then, the sound escaping before she could stop it.
But this time, Sarah did not. This time, she let it rise.
She bent her head close to the child, her shoulders trembling, the sound fuller now, unhidden. It moved through her like rain into the wilderness.
Sarah held the child and laughed, and this time she did not turn away.

Genesis 21:6

Sarah said, “God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me.”

Today’s Scripture records what happens once the impossible finally happens. It records Sarah’s laughter after she has at last given birth to a child, Isaac. But this isn’t the first time the Bible has shown us Sarah laughing.

Earlier, in Genesis 18, Sarah overheard heavenly visitors tell Abraham that his wife would have a son. By then, Sarah and Abraham were well past childbearing age. The promise sounded absurd. And so Sarah laughed.

That wasn’t a laugh of joy. It was a quiet, private laugh of disbelief. A laugh born from disappointment, long waiting, and years of unanswered prayers. And when God gently confronted her—asking, “Why did Sarah laugh?”—Sarah denied it. Not because she didn’t laugh, but because she is afraid to admit her doubt.

But what began as laughter of skepticism slowly became something else. Sarah learned to laugh again—and this time, with joy. When Isaac was born, the mouth that once laughed in doubt laughed in gratitude. And the child she held was given a name that forever illustrated that transformation: Yitzchak—“he will laugh.”

Jewish tradition teaches us something beautiful here. God did not reject Sarah for her doubt. He wove her laughter—and her doubt—into the miracle that He performed.

How often do we laugh off God’s promises? How often do we doubt?

But faith, the Bible reminds us, isn’t the absence of doubt. It is choosing to trust God even when His promises feel laughable.

Sarah’s story—and her laughter—show us that God can bring life out of barrenness, joy out of sorrow, and fulfillment out of long waiting.

So when you find yourself laughing at the improbability of God’s promises, remember Sarah. And know that the God who turned her doubt into joy is still doing the same for you today.