As a daughter growing up with divorced parents and a distorted identity, I felt unnoticed and unloved on more than one occasion. I struggled to find where I belonged, and often the feelings I experienced would influence the perspective of my identity, whether it was rooted in reality or not.
This cycle throughout my young life was on repeat.
I encountered fractured relationships, so I told myself I must be the problem.
I faced deep loneliness, so I told myself I must be forgotten.
I was familiar with rejection, so I told myself I must be second-best.
Can you relate?
If any of these hit a little too close for comfort, reading the story of Leah could be reassuring and inspiring.
On a trip to visit family, a man named Jacob fell head over heels for a woman named Rachel. Rachel’s sister and Laban’s oldest daughter, Leah, watched this play out on the sidelines. Meanwhile, their father negotiated with Jacob to work and wait for his daughter Rachel’s hand in marriage. After seven years, the big day arrived. Jacob anticipated awakening to his beloved, Rachel, after the wedding night only to discover he had been tricked and married her sister, Leah, instead.
In the end, Jacob married Rachel, too, and Leah was once more thrust into a life of feeling less than her sister. (Genesis 29:1-30)
Our stories may not be this dramatic or devastating, but the emotions we confront are kindred. We are prone to perceive life’s turn of events through our personal lens and then react from a place of familiarity. At the core of our being, we desire to be known and loved. So when we are faced with a decision to respond based on temper or truth—these moments shape our faith.
Despite Leah feeling invisible and forsaken by her family, her heavenly Father not only saw her but blessed her with children.
When the Lord saw that Leah was not loved, he enabled her to conceive, but Rachel remained childless. Leah became pregnant and gave birth to a son. She named him Reuben, for she said, “It is because the Lord has seen my misery. Surely my husband will love me now.”
She conceived again, and when she gave birth to a son she said, “Because the Lord heard that I am not loved, he gave me this one too.” So she named him Simeon.
Again she conceived, and when she gave birth to a son she said, “Now at last my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons.” So he was named Levi.
Genesis 29:31-34
Leah bore three sons, naming each child with a declaration of pain and desperation.
Then, something shifted. Scripture did not indicate why, but there was an apparent pivot in Leah’s heart posture between sons three and four.
She conceived again, and when she gave birth to a son she said, “This time I will praise the Lord.” So she named him Judah. Then she stopped having children.
Genesis 29:35
Nothing had changed in her circumstances, yet Leah chose to make a proclamation of praise. “This time I will praise the Lord.” (emphasis mine)
This time.
The phrase in the original Hebrew means “a stroke, a beat, a step, an occurrence” — it infers repetition. Think about the same thing happening again and again. Regarding Leah’s situation, she had four pregnancies which resulted in four sons. There is no notable difference between each birth, and yet a remarkable response occurs at the arrival of Judah.
Similarities to Leah exist within all of us. We face feelings of shame and loneliness. Many have encountered rejection, sorrow, and pain. Our very lives are rhythms of expectancies — whether we are birthing dreams, bearing fruit, or anticipating the next season. We all carry something with the hope of provision and reward. But we honestly don’t know what lies ahead. The future is uncertain — just as it was for Leah.
And yet, we, like Leah, can choose to say, “This time.”
Her conditions were discouraging, but God’s character remained consistent. His promise was evident in her resolution to embrace faithfulness even before the words of this truth were penned by the prophet Isaiah.
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.
Isaiah 61:1-3
Isaiah wrote of an anointed Savior who would deliver, comfort, and cover the brokenhearted with praise.
The miraculous piece of this love story is that this Savior written in Isaiah 61, was the descendant of the son Leah, delivered in the midst of her despair, whose name was Judah.
In the future, Judah will step up in the midst of a family crisis and set the stage for deliverance. His actions foreshadow Christ’s salvation. However, this is unknown to Leah in the middle of her suffering. Her decision to reorient is made with resolve and purpose.
Like Leah, we have the choice to look at what we’re carrying—whether in our past, present, or future. We can trust God’s steadfast sovereignty and love to align our hearts with His. There is no need to deny our reality, but we can deepen our faithfulness to the Savior who has held us. We can—with confidence and hope—say, “This time I will praise the Lord.”
Scripture References