“Sarai,
Abram’s wife, had no children, but she had a slave girl from Egypt
named Hagar. Sarai said to Abram, ‘Look, the Lord has not allowed me
to have children, so have sexual relations with my slave girl. If she
has a child, maybe I can have my own family through her.’

Abram
did what Sarai said. It was after he had lived ten years in Canaan
that Sarai gave Hagar to her husband Abram. (Hagar was her slave girl
from Egypt.)

Abram had sexual relations with Hagar, and she
became pregnant. When Hagar learned she was pregnant, she began to
treat her mistress Sarai badly. Then Sarai said to Abram, ‘This is
your fault. I gave my slave girl to you, and when she became
pregnant, she began to treat me badly. Let the Lord decide who is
right—you or me.’

But Abram said to Sarai, ‘You are Hagar’s
mistress. Do anything you want to her.’ Then Sarai was hard on Hagar,
and Hagar ran away.”—Genesis 16:1-6 (NCV)

Dear
Hagar,

I just read the news report on you today. How you were
fired from your job because you are pregnant by your boss’s husband,
even though she knew about the affair that you were having with her
husband…seemingly the entire time. How she turned a deafened ear
when she first got word that the two of you were sleeping together;
how she even sent you a gift through the mail, on her wedding
anniversary no less, with a “thank you” card; although she never
really stated what she was thanking you for. Guess she was too smart
for that. Indiscretions can’t stay hidden forever. She didn’t want
her signature pen print on the evidence.

And yet, no one seems
to want to look at all of the facts. All they want to is see you. The
home wrecker who’s carrying the baby of another woman’s man.

You
knew it was wrong. The late night dinners. The weekend trips. From
the very first proposition something didn’t feel quite right. You
knew that Abram had needs that only Sarai should have met; that even
though Sarai was distraught about the problems in her marriage, you
should have never been considered an optional solution because no
sane woman can ever really be at peace with her husband being with
someone else. No matter how much she may have put up a good face, it
was really just a front. A calm before the storm.

And now,
here you are. Disgraced. Broke. Broken.

Carrying the baby of
a man who was never yours. Although in the heat of erotic nights and
the dawn of certain mystical days, he certainly felt that way. You
knew that he wasn’t committed to you, but from the day he first saw
you, he seemed impassioned by your presence. He had his own cistern,
but loved to sip from your well….of long gazes…of unsigned
Hallmark cards…of cryptic flirting…of “paid in cash” hotel
receipts…of you.

Like when you gave up your virginity to
your first lost love, the first time you were with Abram, it was
odd…and awkward. His touch was foreign. His kiss was unfamiliar.
Something told you that he was trespassing and yet he soon became an
invasion that you welcomed into your sacred space. Every time you
embraced him, a voice in the back of your mind warned you of what was
to come…but he was so intoxicating. The mental sobriety abandoned
you. And now, here you are: hung over with regret.

Regret for
not saying “no”.

Regret for not knowing better.

Regret
for not wanting—no, planning—to have your first child under
better circumstances.

No one seems to care about that, though.
How the baby within you has no clue about the scandal surrounding
him. How you are unsure if someone else’s husband will still father
his child: his firstborn son. How you are going to provide for such
an innocent blessing—alone. Because no matter how he was conceived,
is he too not—a blessing?

Oh Hagar. I’m so sorry.

As
I prayed for you today, my mind went back to 1997 when I was hiding
in a closet waiting for a certain guy’s girlfriend to leave. His
stench of lust was lingering on my flesh and yet, he was telling
“her” how much he missed her and couldn’t wait to be with her
later that night. Sex with me at 6. Lovemaking with her at 9.

I
was heartbroken beyond belief. Yes, I may be “the other woman”,
but do I not still have feelings…and don’t they matter? Has anyone
ever thought about the fact that I may be in this place of compromise
because no one ever showed me differently? That you can’t value what
you don’t understand? That you have to be taught to revere yourself
as beautiful. Chosen. Worthy. Of being worth the wait…

Really
now. If I thought that highly of myself, why would I settle for
sneaking into a grown man’s place and standing on his dirty clothes
while peeping through the crack of his closet door. That’s not the
sign of a woman who has high self-esteem. That is evidence of just
the opposite.

Am I not low enough? And so why beat me down by
calling me “whore”, “ho”, “slut”, “trash”? Has anyone
ever thought to consider that I had already been calling myself those
things which is why I settled for acting that way in the first place?
Death and life are in the power of the tongue. Some people throw
stones…others hurl insults. Both are detrimental.

Thinking
back, I wasn’t as bold as you, though, Hagar. I wasn’t sleeping with
someone’s husband, but I was still having sex with someone who didn’t
belong to me. Hmph. Now that I think about it, so was his girlfriend,
but that’s no excuse. When I found out that I was carrying his child,
out of fear of the “affair”, I set up an appointment. He’s no
longer with me. The man nor the child.

As I read your story
today, I wept. Some tears were of sadness, but more were of praise
because I now live a forgiven life; yet one that still longs for the
day, back in May, that many years ago, when I could have done that
decision differently. I guess that is why my heart so goes out to
you, Hagar. What you did was inexcusable, but coming from a relative
of your spirit, it’s also understandable. To not cast your pearls
before swine, you must see yourself as a gem, first.

That
said…

I will be praying that Abram owns up to his
responsibility. Something tells me that he will.

I will pray
that Sarai becomes more compassionate. Mercy, grace and forgiveness
and something that we all need in this life…perhaps not for the
same reasons, but ultimately for the same purpose.

I will be
praying for your son. God’s ways are not our own and every child has
a purpose…no matter how he was conceived.

And, until this
scandal passes (and take heart because it will…they always do), I
will pray for your peace of mind and restoration. You are a child of
God—just like the rest of us. I believe, even in spite of your
mistakes, there is still a plan. I am living evidence of this kind of
faith. I Corinthians 7:23 says that you were bought with a price. You
can’t change the past, but from today on, refuse to be a slave among
men. This is what I will stand in the gap for on your behalf until
you can stand on this promise on your own.

You are deeply
loved by God and me,

Shellie

©Shellie
R. Warren/2009