The Child of Promise

So God comes up to Abraham one day and says you're going to have a kid.  This was before Abraham was Abraham and before he'd learned some things about God.
Abraham says 'That's cool. A little baby, huh.'  He and his wife didn't have any kids, this was exciting news.  Somewhere in there, he really believed it would happen along with all the results of that, and God said 'Let's call you Abraham.' and was so pleased with his belief, that he counted it as true righteousness.
Somewhere down the years things came in between Abraham and that promise.  His wife said 'God said you were having a kid, not necessarily that you were having a kid with me.'  Abraham listened to her logic and got her servant pregnant.  The woman was supposed to be a surrigate mother.  Sarah would take the baby at birth and raise him as her own.  But then when the woman did get pregnant, she kinda felt a one-upism and got snotty and Sarah beat her and she ran away.
An angel sent her back home again and promised her that her son would be hated but a great man, none-the-less.  So she went back home had the kid and Sarah settled into the whole thing -sorta.  Evidently, Abraham settled in as well, because when God said, 'Now you really are going to have the promised son and Sarah will be the mom,' Abraham said 'Let Ishmael live before you.'  Before this morning, I never considered that Abraham loved and even enjoyed raising Ishmael.  I never thought about the father's bond before today.
We know the rest of the story - how the baby came according to promise and how Ishmael made fun of him and got kicked out into the desert to fend for himself.  We know how the middle east was affected for all time.  That has nothing to do with my point so I will leave it now.
Years ago, I was a musician - considered a very good musician.  I heard God make promises about it and I loved the idea of the promise.  I made a decent amount of money with it, became reasonably popular and considered it my life work, though I never moved out of the couple of circles in which I learned to function. 
I had a hobby - art.  I made money at it but I never considered it a vocation.  For a time, I moved about those circles without restriction as I had with the music, but I did not pursue it, it pursued me.  Then my life changed completely.
I was a little confused, but always expected God to honor the promises one day.  Since my music was mostly bounded by the lines of religious denomination, and since I was now a divorced woman, I walked away from my commitment and involvements, believing I would not be readily accepted any longer.  That was the practical truth.  From that time on, I played with my music, but it never flowed from me in the same way.  My Sarai, told me to forget the promises, forget the music, pursue the art for that was the only way I would be successful.  I listened with a deep sadness.  Unfortunately, this Sarai of mine was not a part of my life but for a short few weeks and was definitely not a part of the promise, but the words went deep.
I never forgot the promise and tried to reenter the world I had walked away from a few years later, but I had no power, no conviction, no strength.  It broke my heart.  People who worked with me and believed in me didn't understand why it was so confusing and painful; nor did they understand my inability to function within the realm of music.  I lost the promise and the ability.  I retrained myself, became an art teacher, and learned to love my little Ishmael.
At various times in the past 20 plus years, I have heard the siren call of the music I left behind.  But the wound was so great that I turned away.  At one point, I was put into a place where it might be resurrected, but it ended not so well.  After that, I turned the dream and the promise away and have not allowed it to raise even a tiny bit in my heart and mind.
Recently I have heard rumours in my spirit.  Will the child of promise walk and breathe and take it's old place?  My heart feels confused.  My faith is unsure.  My mind says 'Let the child I have walk before you.'  Yet I wonder.  If I give myself in my old age to a dead promise and I see no result, will I make myself an even greater fool?  Is it rationale or lack of faith that leads me?  Do I even have a choice?  If the will of God is that direction, will it not just come about without my struggle?  Yet I feel so torn, so hopeless, so foolish, so faithless.  How can the Father bless or use me at all in this state?  Was Abraham this confused when he decided to believe God in a way that ultimately counted for righteousness?