History was repeating itself. As the king took Sarah’s trembling hand, leading her away from her husband and into yet another foreign place, she wondered with a furrowed brow, Why would Abraham do this to me — again? He was meant to protect her. He was supposed to fight for her, as he had for Lot. But courage had given way to cowardice, the promise forgotten — again. And now Sarah was the sacrifice upon the altar of his self-regard.

As she sat alone, waiting for the king to return, her inner cries of anger became prayers entrusted to the God of her vindication. The God of covenant-promise. The fearsome One.

What Can We Learn from Sarah?

Sarah’s story is remarkable. Imagine being told that your elderly womb would cradle youth, the barrenness of old age yielding to the will of the Ancient of Days. No wonder Sarah laughed at the prospect (Genesis 18:12). It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God — even when that fall is into his unexpected grace and seemingly impossible promise.

Critics today might conclude that Sarah was a foolish woman for not speaking up and standing her ground more. “A doormat,” they might say. “She let Abraham push her around.” But far from condemning her, Scripture commends her. In Hebrews’ remembrance of the saints, we read, “By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive, even when she was past the age, since she considered him faithful who had promised” (Hebrews 11:11).

Without even knowing whom she was waiting for, Sarah covered herself in the blood of Christ — the eternal Son from her family line, the epitome of her waiting. She saw the blurry outline of Jesus and greeted him from afar, her perfect Lord who would lead her into a better country, a heavenly one (Hebrews 11:13–16), where all fear would fade in the light of his radiance. She had glimpses of her Savior, her Lord — and she knew that he was also Abraham’s Lord.

“Our ultimate goal when we are afraid isn’t fearlessness, but a fear of the Lord that results in holiness.”

And therein lies much of Sarah’s excellence as a woman of faith. More than she feared the ill effects of her husband’s decisions, she feared her true Master. Of course, she was no perfect saint, so when we look to her as an example, we are ultimately looking to Jesus, the perfect object of her imperfect faith. But from Sarah and her story, we can learn that fearlessness isn’t a woman’s goal (contrary to what the world may tell us). Instead, we aim to fear the Lord. So with Sarah as our guide, consider with me three lessons in such countercultural fear.

1. Godly fear trusts him with what we can’t control.

Abraham made some terrible choices — choices that were out of Sarah’s hands. Like Sarah, you may know the vulnerability of being rocked by others’ foolishness and sins: the effects of an unfaithful spouse on your children, the ripples of pastoral disqualification on your church family, the financial rubble from one gambler’s addictive war. Then there are circumstances for which no one is to blame but you never saw coming: the downsizing, the natural disaster, the cancer diagnosis, the stillbirth. All painful, and all painfully out of your hands.

The question is, What will we do when we suffer? Will we immediately take matters into our own hands, rushing to fix people and the damage they’ve done? Will we make them pay for it? Will we laugh at God’s face in flagrant unbelief? Sarah tried all of these, and none worked (see Genesis 16:1–6; 18:12; 21:1–21). So, she chose a better path, the path of godly fear that Jesus himself also walked:

Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps. He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. (1 Peter 2:21–23)

When we face danger, disappointment, and pain, the answer isn’t to look within ourselves but to look to Jesus. He faced the serious consequences of sinful men, and his response wasn’t to revile or threaten, but to trust his Father. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). Will we follow in his steps? Godly fear means trusting God with what we can’t control, knowing he is a just judge and that the outcome is in his capable hands.

2. Godly fear pursues holiness.

Though we cannot control people and circumstances, by the grace of God we can control our responses to them. We learn from Sarah that “even if some do not obey the word,” we can obey (1 Peter 3:1). And in doing so, we may even win others to Christ by our respectful and pure conduct (1 Peter 3:2). Our ultimate goal when we are afraid — of past mistakes, present pressures, or an unknown future — isn’t fearlessness, but a fear of the Lord that results in holiness.

Does this include growing in a courageous spirit that “[does] not fear anything that is frightening” (1 Peter 3:6)? Yes. Holiness includes courage. But Christian courage isn’t the same as fearlessness. Our aim is to know Jesus better and, in knowing him better, to look more like him — he who walked in perfect fear of the Lord.

For us, godly fear grows — sometimes slowly — through a lifetime of sanctification, as the Lord provides opportunities to look to him when we are afraid, just as he did for Sarah. Just consider Sarah’s record in the New Testament. In Genesis, we are privy to her sins and foolish mistakes; her struggle for holiness is laid bare before our eyes. But how does the New Testament represent her? As a God-fearing woman of faith (Hebrews 11:11; 1 Peter 3:5–6).

This is good news for all of us who struggle with fear. God’s grace in Christ means that we are declared holy, forgiven, and righteous in his sight. No arguments, no exceptions (Romans 8:1, 33–34). And at the end of the day, when we have faced fear in a less-than-perfect way, because we have looked to Jesus and feared him, we too will be called God-fearing women of faith. His righteous blood will cover us and deem us “not guilty.”

In light of this reality, we put off fear and pursue holiness. We are Sarah’s children if we do good and (increasingly) do not fear anything that is frightening (1 Peter 3:6).

3. Godly fear looks to his promises.

Praise God that his promises are not dependent on us, but on the perfect and final sacrifice of his Son. Sarah was able to conceive a baby in her impossibly old age, not because she had “enough faith,” but because God was faithful to her. Even though she laughed at God’s promise and then denied doing so, God assured her that nothing would be too hard for him (Genesis 18:14–15).

God’s promises stand despite our worry, doubts, and fear because they are built on something more sure: the precious blood of Jesus. Where do we look when we’re afraid? Do we fixate on our circumstances — the wayward child, the unrelenting pain, the broken marriage, the flooded basement and empty bank account? Or do we fix our eyes on God’s enduring and true word — his precious and very great promises, secured for us in Jesus? Fear tempts us to walk by sight, to assess our situation based on what’s in front of us or what could happen to us. But godly fear means walking by faith as we look to God’s trustworthy promises.

This means we get familiar with our Bibles. We search the Scriptures because they bring us to the Savior (John 5:39–40), whose character and promises we long to trust more and more. Where else can we go? No news feed, political party, or self-help book will do. Only Jesus has the words of eternal life — words we can depend on when everything else gives way (John 6:68). Growing in godly fear doesn’t require perfect faith but a perfect promise and a perfect Promise Keeper. “He will surely do it” (1 Thessalonians 5:24). And as we look to Jesus and his promises, as revealed in his word, we will grow in godly fear.

When Earthly Fears Fall

What did Sarah feel as she noticed her expanding womb, or as she held Isaac for the first time? I imagine her weeping with relief and then laughing for joy (Genesis 21:6–7). It was all true — every word! Despite her husband’s unbelief, and amid her own bitterness and doubt and mere inklings of defiant hope, God remained faithful. In everything, he was commanding Sarah’s faith, inviting her to trust what she could not yet see.

And isn’t that his invitation to us? He wants us to fear him above all else, to trust his faithfulness more than what our eyes can see — believing he is in control, he is at work within his people, and he is keeping all his promises.

Unlike Sarah, we know whom we’re waiting for. She had glimpses, but we have the full picture (John 1:14). And one day, when Christ’s glory is fully revealed, we will weep with relief and laugh for joy. It was all true. And all earthly fears will fade in the light of his enduring radiance.