As complicated as a knotted ball of yarn.

We nodded our heads in agreement as I put into words what she thought, “It it so complicated.” For two hours we walked with the bright Spring sun hitting our backs, propelling us forward. And we talked about everything under that Spring sun, the tenuous fallout from living in a broken world.

I looked back on the path our conversation had wandered, which weaved it’s way through family and stubborn children, divorce and the church, finances and risky moves. I saw a twisted ball of yarn, entangled and knotted. With so much heartbreak and suffering weighing down on our sin clad world, I was left with four simple words, “It is so complicated.”

Is there a way to untangle this ball of yarn? To find it’s knotted sinews and gently tease them apart? Is there a way to step out of a conversation like this to find that hope is the victor?

Sarah of Genesis lived a complicated life. She married her half-brother, Abraham, which came in handy when twice he deceived Kings to protect his own hide. These Kings, told by Abraham that Sarah was his sister, took Sarah as one of their wives, until they discovered the truth. Sarah was Abraham’s wife. With her husband, she left her family and home to live in tents all her living days. Much like modern camping, she packed and unpacked the pots and pans and clothes and tents and bed mats, time and again. Not only was her life dictated by the habits of movement, she was also infertile beyond childbearing age in a culture where children were a women’s crowning glory. And in bitterness, she abused Hagar her servant, who did bear her husband’s child.

It is so complicated.

Nearing the end of her days, when Sarah’s journey looked like a twisted and tangled ball of yarn, and her heart probably felt the same, she bitterly laughed at God’s pronouncement she would have a baby. Abraham announced the angels arrival, and Sarah stepped behind the coarse goat hair flap of her tent. Hidden within earshot, she heard the Lord say, “I will return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife shall have a son.”

However, Sarah could not rejoice. The pain of her life tied the sinews of her heart in knots. Instead of rejoicing, Sarah quietly laughed with bitterness. I do not blame her. Her life was complicated, marked by loss and grief and suffering. In Sarah’s shoes, I do not think I would fair much better.

Yet true to God’s promise, Sarah did conceive. For nine months she carried the baby in her womb. Like butterfly wings against her belly, her baby fluttered inside. She swelled and it became uncomfortable to sleep. With each sleepless night, she hugged her belly and felt the bitterness melt away. Yes, she whispered, “nothing is too hard for the Lord!”

Finally, the day arrived. Her water broke and her body contorted in pain, bringing forth her promised son.

“We will name him Isaac,” Abraham declared. “Isaac – He laughs – this is God’s name for our son.” Tucked inside a blanket and pressed again her breast, Sarah held the promise of God’s joyous laughter.

Ladies, listen. No matter the depth of complication, God’s sovereignty will always have the last laugh! Through bitterness and anger and confusion and complication, God is Victor! He is sovereign over the darkest parts of our story, the parts that leave our ball of yarn tangled and twisted. Because He reigns, we can take our knotted ball of yarn and hand it over to the God of the Possible.

Alongside the God of the Possible, we meet at our knotted mess and together begin to tease apart the strands. In prayer, we find our knots begin to loosen. With power from the God of the Possible, we take on the most complicated knots of bitterness, fear, anger and confusion, and allow them to give way to trust. Always trust.

God’s sovereignty lays straight the twisted ball of yarn. It is complicated. So trust Him, the one who softens our knots.