(inspired by Hagar’s story in Genesis 16:1-14)
It would have been easy to slip away, and to this day I’m sure I would have given up the fight—if someone hadn’t reached out to me in my moment of despair in the desert. I will never forget what happened that day. The scenes are etched in my memory, and when I close my eyes, it all comes back.
—
The sun beat down on my shoulders, and my wispy blonde hair stuck to my neck as I drove along the winding road through the middle of the desert. I glanced around the desolate surroundings. How did I get here?
It was a long story. The events of the past few months had swept down on me like a sudden storm, climaxing in a tornado that had left only destruction in its wake. I shook my head in disbelief.
I hadn’t fully realized it at the time, but the moment I found out I was carrying the child that Aidan and Sarah had been hoping for, my world changed, never to be the same again.
I had never thought it would come to this, but here I was, speeding toward an uncertain future that wasn’t anything like what I imagined. The story of how I ended up here was long, but so was the road that stretched before me, so I allowed my mind to roam back to where it began.
—
I was eighteen. The home for endangered children where I had been living wouldn’t allow me to stay there now that I was officially an adult, so they turned me out onto the street. I had nowhere to go, and I stood there bewildered for what felt like forever. Finally, I picked up my backpack, shrugged it onto my shoulders, and began walking with no particular destination in mind. All I wanted was a place to sleep for the night.
I didn’t know my way around town, and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I found myself in the bad part of town just as dusk was encroaching. When I glanced around and saw the decrepit apartment buildings with smoke drifting from the open windows, the filthy streets littered with crunched-up beer cans, and the black cars with dark tinted windows, I clutched the straps of my backpack across my chest and tried to inch away toward a safer area as quietly and unobtrusively as I could. When I reached the edge of that part of town, I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when I heard a man’s voice crooning, “Hazel, Hazel.” My heart stopped for a second.
He snapped his fingers. Startled, I spun around to see a tall man dressed in a black pin-striped business suit with a gold chain at his waist and a gleaming emerald ring on one hand. He stared at me, boring into me with gleaming dark brown eyes. “Hazel,” he said again.
“How do you know my name?” I whispered fiercely, drawing myself up to my full height and clutching my backpack straps even tighter. Be strong, Hazel. Be brave. Don’t let him see that he’s scaring you.
He laughed, a rich, rolling sound that somehow didn’t seem genuine. “It’s written on your backpack.” He pointed to the top of my backpack, where I’d stuck the name tag I was required to use at the home. I blushed. How could I have been so foolish?
Temporarily tongue-tied, I tried to think of what I should do next. This man clearly had ulterior motives. I had to get away fast. But where would I go? He knew the terrain better than I did. How was I going to escape? I was in a desperate situation, and both he and I knew it.
As I stood frozen in the middle of the street, the man leaned so close to me that I could smell his cologne. “You look lost,” he said, smiling gently at me. “Let me help you home. I know my way around the city.” He glanced around as if to make sure no one was watching, then clasped his hand on my arm. “And if you need a place to stay, I can help you with that too. Just come with me.”
I jerked my arm away and shrieked, “I don’t want your help!” Then I started running as fast as I could in the opposite direction—or tried. My backpack weighed me down. Tearing it off, I kept running, trying not to think about all I was leaving behind.
Flailing my way toward the building directly in my point of view with a sign across the door that said “Mission Center,” I pushed the door open and nearly tumbled inside. I quickly got up off the floor and took a few deep breaths, trying to slow down my racing pulse.
That’s when I first met Aidan.
A dark-haired thirty something man wearing a light blue polo shirt and dark blue dress pants emerged from within the depths of the building. In spite of my sudden appearance, he didn’t look surprised. “Hello,” he smiled warmly as he extended his hand. “My name is Aidan. I’m the pastor here. How may I help you?”
Still in shock from my narrow escape a few minutes before, I ignored his outstretched hand and eyed him skeptically. “Why should I trust you?”
His smile dimmed. “I-I’m sorry if I frightened you. We believe in giving a warm welcome to strangers.”
Before I could ask who “we” was, a smiling woman who appeared to be about the same age as Aidan emerged from behind him and stepped in front of him. She didn’t bother trying to shake my hand; instead, she engulfed me in a motherly hug. Burying her head in my shoulder, she said in a muffled voice, “You’re welcome here, honey. We’ll take care of you. You can stay with us.” I squirmed in her grasp, and she stepped back, leaving a whiff of rose-scented perfume in her wake. “I saw you run away from that man,” she went on. “You are one brave girl.” Flipping her wavy maple-tinted hair over one shoulder, she glanced back at Aidan. “I see you’ve met my husband, Aidan. My name is Sarah. What’s your name?”
I barely managed to reply, “Hazel.” Is this real, or am I dreaming?
She smiled at me. “I understand you probably don’t feel like talking right now. That’s okay. We can talk more when you’re ready.” She leaned over to Aidan and whispered in his ear. He nodded, and they whispered together a few more minutes before Sarah turned back toward me.
“Hazel, I know this might sound sudden, but we would like you to stay with us. We can help you work through whatever you need to. Once you’re back on your feet, we can find work for you. How does that sound?”
“Fine, I guess.” What were my other options? The world of the streets awaited me otherwise. Besides, this couple had just helped to rescue me from a dire situation. Already I felt indebted to them. And they seemed trustworthy.
“Great!” Sarah beamed and twirled in a mini happy dance, the skirt of her white sundress swirling around her. Aidan quietly smiled at me. Why this couple was so excited to provide a place for me to stay was beyond me, but I was so grateful for this answer to my prayers that I didn’t want to question the means.
Aidan and Sarah fulfilled their promise of helping me get back on my feet and deal with the wounds of my past. After a few months, they felt it was time for me to start earning my keep, so they assigned me work to do. I helped Sarah with cooking and housekeeping and assisted Aidan with answering calls and bookkeeping.
Years passed this way, and I was content to serve Aidan and Sarah however I could. They were kind to me and treated me like their own daughter. I think that was largely because they didn’t have children. Their childlessness left a void in the home that we all could feel. Both of them wanted children desperately, and they had tried unsuccessfully to have children for many years. They had also attempted to adopt multiple times, but each time it had fallen through.
Then one day a few months ago, Sarah asked me to come to the kitchen table—“It’s important,” she told me. When I got there, she and Aidan were seated at the table with serious expressions on their faces. Oh no. They’re going to tell me I have to leave. I looked from one to the other, wishing their faces would give me a clue as to what they were going to tell me.
Sarah took my hands in hers, cradling my wrists as she looked into my eyes. Her eyes were pleading, yearning. She glanced at Aidan, who nodded. Then she began, “Hazel, as you know, Aidan and I have been trying to have a baby for many years.”
I nodded, silently urging her to go on.
“You also know that this isn’t just a wish of ours; we received a word from the Lord long ago, and He promised Aidan that he would have many children.” She looked down at the table for a moment. When she raised her gaze to meet my eyes again, her eyes were starting to water. “I’ve recently realized that God didn’t promise me I would have children. He made the promise to Aidan.”
All the more puzzled, I gave another bewildered nod. What does this have to do with me?
“I’m getting older,” she laughed nervously, “so it isn’t looking likely for me to have children.” She wiped away a tear, then looked back at me and continued firmly, “That’s where you come in, Hazel.”
Now I was completely clueless. For the first time in the conversation, I spoke up. “What do you mean?”
“I’m asking you to do a favor for Aidan and me. I’ve been doing some research, and I learned that it’s possible to have a surrogate mother carry a child for you. Would you be willing to do that for us?”
I glanced at Aidan, who was staring down at the table looking like he wished he was somewhere else. Clearly this hadn’t been his idea.
Sarah was talking again. “We would raise the child, so you wouldn’t need to worry about taking care of him. You would still be free to marry and have a family of your own someday if you want. Please, Hazel, after all we’ve done for you, wouldn’t you be willing to do this for us?”
I stared numbly at the floor, wishing I could sink into its tiles and not have to answer. But that wasn’t an option. Both Aidan and Sarah gazed at me, waiting for my answer.
Sarah was right. After all they had done for me, I didn’t have much of a choice. I had to do this.
I looked up, and with as much bravery and resolve as I could muster, I said, “Yes, I will.”
Sarah squealed and hugged Aidan, who visibly relaxed. “I’m so glad, Hazel! I knew you would say yes. Now, let me tell you how it’s going to work.” She pulled out some brochures and began explaining the process.
We started the procedure not long afterward, and before long we learned that it had been successful. I was pregnant.
Just a few days after we received the news, I noticed that Aidan and Sarah weren’t treating me the same way they had before. Aidan and I now shared a special connection he didn’t have with Sarah, and we felt awkward around each other because of it. This was the fulfillment of a long-awaited promise, and he was as excited and pleased as a normal father would be. But his joy was muted because it wasn’t shared with Sarah. Because of his care for her, he wouldn’t ask me about the baby or how I was feeling when Sarah was around; he always waited until she was in another room. He was a kind and caring man, and I could tell that trying to balance his joy and Sarah’s sorrow was tearing him in two.
Sarah, meanwhile, was happy at first, but her happiness soon turned into resentment. Even though this had been her idea in the first place and I had agreed to do it at her request, I could tell that she was jealous. Whenever she looked at me, I could see the tinge of envy in her eyes. She started sulking and neglecting her usual household duties, leaving the work to fall on my shoulders. We got into arguments over the smallest things, like what color of curtains to buy for the nursery and whether to purchase a rocking chair or an overstuffed armchair (ever the peacemaker, Aidan urged us to buy both).
But despite Aidan’s efforts, the tension between Sarah and me was rising, and we all knew it.
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