Barnesville First United Methodist Church

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nAZuS3mWO2g

Sermon | Is Anything Too Wonderful for God? | Rev. Ann Mann | Barnesville First UMC | June 14, 2026

There are seasons in life when hope feels easy. Prayers come naturally. Possibilities abound.

Then there are seasons of waiting when prayers once prayed with confidence begin to feel worn. We believe in God, but quietly, cautiously, because life has taught us that not every dream unfolds when or how we imagined.

Scripture Lesson: Genesis 18: 1-15 (please read on your own)

Abraham sits near the entrance of his tent when three strangers appear. Immediately, we see the heart of hospitality. Abraham runs to greet them, bows before them, and offers water for tired feet, shade beneath the trees, bread fresh from Sarah’s hands, and a feast prepared with generosity and care.

Hospitality is not just good manners. Hospitality is holy openness, the willingness to make room in our lives for the possibility that God may arrive disguised as interruption.

And isn’t that difficult for us sometimes? We live busy, structure, scheduled lives. Our attention is scattered in a hundred different directions. We become so focused on surviving the day we stop noticing the sacred moments unfolding in front of us.

Abraham notices. And because he does, he discovers that these are not ordinary visitors. Through these strangers comes a word from God.

“Where is your wife Sarah?” they ask. And then comes the promise once more: “I will surely return to you in due season, and your wife Sarah shall have a son.”

Now if we are honest, Sarah’s reaction feels incredibly relatable. She laughs. Not joyful laughter. This is weary laughter of one who has heard promises before, who has lived too long with disappointment to easily believe again.

Abraham and Sarah were advanced in years. Sarah’s womb had long been barren. Humanly speaking, the possibility of children was gone. Perhaps that is why Sarah laughs.

Sometimes disappointment becomes so familiar that hope itself begins to feel absurd. We know what that feels like. Perhaps you have prayed for healing that has not come, for reconciliation that still feels impossible, for peace in a world that seems addicted to violence and division, for clarity while walking through uncertainty, or for someone you love to find their way home again.

After a while, the heart learns to protect itself. We stop expecting too much because disappointment hurts.

Sarah’s laughter is not cruelty or rebellion. It is exhaustion. It is grief wrapped in irony. It is the sound of a heart trying not to break again.

The stranger responds with one of the great questions of scripture: “Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?” Not “Is anything possible?” But, “Is anything too wonderful?”

Again and again, God meets human limitation with divine possibility. Not always according to our timelines. Not always in the ways we expect. But faithfully. That does not mean waiting is easy.

Abraham and Sarah waited decades. By the time this promise arrives again in Genesis 18, the excitement of the original call has likely faded into something quieter and more fragile. The adventure that once seemed thrilling may now feel painfully delayed.

Yet God has not forgotten them. Church, there are times when we too live in that middle space between promise and fulfillment.
We pray for peace while violence fills the headlines.
We work for justice while systems seem unmoved.
We long for forgiveness while wounds remain tender.
We seek healing while grief still lingers.

Faith often means learning to live faithfully in that middle space. And perhaps that is where hospitality becomes so important. Because openness to God is rarely abstract. It becomes visible in the way we live attentively in the world. Abraham welcomed strangers. Sarah baked bread. Ordinary acts became holy ground.

The spiritual life begins with paying attention. Paying attention to the hurts we carry, the needs of our neighbors, the beauty of creation, and the quiet nudges of the Spirit.
Grace forms us into people who notice. Maybe that is why Psalm 116 says, “I love the Lord, because he has heard my voice.” Gratitude grows where attention lives.

When we pay attention, we begin discovering invitations to prayer everywhere. In the singing of birds at sunrise, the kindness of a stranger, the tears we try to hide, the ache for something better, and the unexpected visitor standing at the edge of the tent. God still speaks there.

Eventually, Sarah’s laughter changes. The laughter of disbelief becomes the laughter of joy. A child is born. Isaac. And his very name means laughter. What once sounded impossible becomes a testimony to grace. Sarah eventually declares, “God has brought laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me.”

Notice the transformation. At first Sarah laughs alone in heartbreak. Later she laughs together in joy. That is what grace does. It transforms isolated sorrow into shared rejoicing.

This week, may we remain open to holy interruptions.

Sermon | Is Anything Too Wonderful for God? | Rev. Ann Mann | Barnesville First UMC | June 14, 2026 Sermon | Is Anything Too Wonderful for God? | Rev. Ann Mann | Barne...