Imagine a woman in your church says this: “After I have a child, my husband will love me.” Or they say: “Because I suffered, I now get blessings.” Or they say: “If I have enough children I will earn love.”

What would you think when hearing a woman in your church say that? Would you quietly disengage? Would you feel moved to ask why she feels like that? Would you skip straight to gentle encouragement in the face of such distorted anguish?

Now read Genesis 29 and the surrounding chapters and allow yourself to enter in the anguish of Leah and Rachel. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

This space left intentionally mostly blank so you go read Genesis 29 – 35.

Seriously, go read it again.

I mean it! Pretty please.

Thank you.

Avoid any shallow moralizing, and go deeply into the pain presented. Winding through this story is the bright thread of deception, which stands out fiercely in the right lighting. Jacob deceives his family > Laban deceives Jacob > Leah is part of wedding night deception (does she have a choice?).

Before ever saying: “I would never!” pause and imagine your entire world is founded upon deception and what rough foundation that is to build a family on.

It can take a long time to move from longing for human acceptance and instead praise God, regardless of your position. Being regarded with affection by people is no guarantee of being secure in God’s favor. Even the people we romanticize and idolize are prone to letting us down. Jacob worked for years and it only seemed like a few days (29:20). How romantic! And yet he shows partiality and favoritism and the consequences of his decisions creates a polygamous, wounded, and competitive home where rivalry grows instead of unity.

How romantic!

Through this mess, with bright threads of deception, partiality, insecurity, longing, and grief, there are other threads if we bring enough light.

We see the soft eyes of Leah. Have you ever seen someone and felt immediately their vulnerability? Seen in their eyes how delicate, how tender their being is? To be Leah, and then Jacob loved Rachel more. Maybe you have never seen that in someone’s eyes. Even if you have not, God sees when someone is hated. Leah is not just overlooked. She is hated.

Have you ever seen someone burn with envy for blessings? Rachel equates not having children with dying. Life being worth living can hinge upon what we build the doors for. Rachel sees a way forward, and that opening in her life is to have children.

The family knows all this, the servants all can see this. Truly unhappy families are a conspiracy of silence, and everyone brokenly carries on doing whatever they can. When you feel unwanted, you can rehearse that feeling over and over in your heart. Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated.

Do not overlook the victory that it is to survive. To survive being deceived, being overlooked, being hated, being envied, being barren, being unloved.

Imagine the next moment you realize you have survived, try saying: “This time I will praise the Lord.” One might say there is a scarlet thread running through this story. The promise thread. From Judah will come forth kings. An unwanted woman’s womb is the source of eventual salvation. The parallels don’t just write themselves between Leah and Jesus, the parallels are already written. No form or majesty that we should look… in other words how easy to overlook. To reject. To hate. To despise. To play favorites. To be insecure about the relationship. To create rivalry for competitive affections.

Consider this as well: Leah is not a bride chosen for her beauty. And yet God’s promise outlives all the family flaws. You can see for yourself how God sees redemption where we fail to look. All these threads forming a tapestry which beggars the imagination, and His careful weaving together all things for good.

Leah is not a bride chosen for her beauty.

We, the church, are not a bride chosen for our beauty. God sees us anyway.