The story in our text presents a real problem for Christians. It is a story in which answered prayer results in family conflict and personal pain.

The story starts out all right. Isaac and Rebecca have been married for twenty years without producing an heir. Nothing could be more painful for a Jewish woman than barrenness, and nothing more tragic for Isaac than not to have a son through whom God could fulfill His promise. So Isaac prays for his wife and she conceives.

Everything seems fine. To this point we have a story of God's graciousness in answering prayer. This is my kind of story. I could take a story like this and wax eloquent on the "Power of Prayer."

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Yet suddenly and without warning the story goes astray. There's not one baby, there are two -- and they're struggling against one another in the womb. The violence, pain, and difficulty of the pregnancy is so intense that Rebecca cries out, "Why is this happening to me?"

What is this? Is this a case of that common experience we've all had? I want it; I get what I want; but this is not what I want. My uncle always wanted a big luxury automobile but he had several children, multiple obligations and never felt he could afford one. But every year when the new models came out he was down at the dealer's showroom. He would always take a test drive, smell the newness, rub the finish, kick the tires, then go out to the street, get in his old Fairlane and drive home -- year after year after year.

Finally his day came. All the kids were gone, the mortgage was paid, he was making a fair salary, so he took the plunge. On the first of October, he drove home a brand new 1968 Cadillac. It got between seven and eight miles to a gallon on the open road, on cold mornings it wouldn't start, on hot days it overheated. The first six months he owned it, he spent more time at the repair shop than at home.

Before the year was up he had sold it and bought a slightly used Fairlane Ford. My uncle told me that two of the happiest days of his life were the day he bought that car and the day he sold it.

Those experiences are not uncommon. We want the dress; we get the dress home; then we ask, "Why did I ever buy this dress?" Some make that mistake with things far more important than clothes, cars, houses, and lands. Some do it with vocations, careers, personal relationships, even with marriages and children.

Is Rebecca one who wanted a child, became pregnant and suddenly decides "I don't want a child." No! The problem is not that Rebecca is dissatisfied that God has answered her prayers. The text is clear: she was barren; she wants a baby, prays fervently and is overjoyed when she realizes that she is pregnant. But something is wrong, there is a war raging within her body.

When we pray, peace is supposed to be the result, not war. When we pray, things are supposed to get better, not worse. Here we have not the power of prayer but the paradox of prayer; not the joy of answered prayer but the pain of answered prayer.