Hannah

Once a man fell in love with a woman.  Her name was Hannah. 

They got married and dreamed of the life they were going to make.   And then they dreamed of the lives they were going to make.  And they kept dreaming.

…but dreams were all that they were.

The man, Elkanah, needed to have children to inherit from him and to take care of Hannah when he died.  And to provide for all of the people he himself had to take care of.

We don’t know if it ever was in his thoughts that he was the reason no dreams were becoming reality.  Nor do we know if it was very apparent to Hannah, and to Elkanah, that something wasn’t working right inside her body. 

But we do know that he did need to have children. 

So he married again.  Her name was Peninnah.

And it was Hannah that was proven to be broken.  

Peninnah got pregnant and had a child. 

And then she had another. 

And possibly another. 

And possibly another.  We don’t know how many children Peninnah and Elkanah had together but we do know it was children and not child.

And all through this, Hannah truly broke. 

She felt it in her body. 

She felt it in her heart. 

She felt it in her soul. 

And Peninnah made sure that Hannah never forgot.  That peace never came. 

The horrible truth about pain is that sometimes it never goes away, it just gets really familiar.  To the point that you don’t notice the weight of it every day.

But there will always, always be moments, days, weeks when all that familiarity vanishes.  When the weight of that pain, feels fresh again and searing. 

There were those times for Hannah too.  Especially at the House of the Lord. 

Every year the family would travel to worship and sacrifice. 

Every year Elkanah would give to his second wife and all his children.

Every year he would give more to the wife whom he loved and who was heartbroken.  

Elkanah would ask her if their love could be enough.  If he could be enough for her. 

But Hannah knew, as all who long know, it didn’t matter the love and the life and even the laughter; a part of her would be always be sad.  She had been told ‘No’. 

Finally, on one visit to the House of the Lord, Hannah had to escape.  We’re told the taunting of Peninnah was continuing and vicious.  But we’re not told of the other factors.  And there were other factors.

We’re not told of the other people. 

The families going by.

The laughing children she had to see. 

The expectant mothers she had to watch. 

The fathers throwing their gurgling babies into the air. 

The praise of the priests as thanks was thrown to the Lord for another blessing, another child.  “Surely the Lord has shown you favor.” 

So she escaped. 

She went on her own. 

And she prayed. 

Being a woman, I know she had prayed before.  Being a married woman, I know she had prayed before.  Being a married woman wanting to have a child, I KNOW she had prayed before. 

But this was different. 

This wasn’t praying to God. 

It was begging.  Pleading.  It was lying in the arms of the Father weeping because the pain is too much and you don’t care if people see because the tears have blinded you anyway and the pain is too much, too much to bear. 

She even promised. 

“If you give me a son, then he will be yours forever.  He’ll be your miracle.  And everyone will know it.  I will mark him from birth as being yours.  His hair and beard will never be cut.  And he’ll live in your house.  He’ll be yours.”

She prayed till she had no words left. 

But the tears flowed.  And her mouth moved.  And her heart sought God. 

It’s interesting that here, we get a surprise visit from a surprise character. 

Eli, the priest and warrior for God, saw Hannah in her distressed state and made an assumption.  A bad assumption.  He assumed he had the answers and this woman just needed to have her life fixed, her sins called out. 

Even now, in the midst of crying out to God, more pain was being brought; by someone who was supposed to help. 

We don’t know the tone of Hannah’s answer.  We don’t know the volume of it. 

We knew she was honest in her pain and her requests and I’m sure the tears were still on her cheeks.  

She set Eli straight and his response to her?  “Go in peace.  And may God give you what you want.”

This was different…

It wasn’t a command to stop sinning.  It wasn’t a list of things she should be doing differently.  It was simply, “I hope God gives you what you want.” 

There is comfort in knowing that someone heard you.  Didn’t try to fix you; just heard you, and recognized that you were not at fault. 

Hannah went back to her family feeling seen. 

They traveled back home and Elkanah’s love for his wife didn’t diminish. 

Time passed.

Hannah cried more tears.  Peninnah taunted her. Elkanah loved her.  And God continued to see her.  Even when she didn’t feel it. 

…and then God said, “NOW.”

And Hannah got pregnant. 

It wasn’t because she relaxed.  It wasn’t because she stopped thinking about it.  It was because God said it was time.  And Hannah knew it. 

She stayed at home with her son, Samuel, for years.  Even when the rest of the family would go to the house of the Lord, Hannah and Samuel would stay behind. 

She knew that the next time she would go to the temple, Samuel wouldn’t be coming back home with her. 

We know the story after that.  Samuel did indeed stay at the temple and learn from Eli, the very priest that had listened to Hannah.  Samuel was a miracle that served God all the days of his life. 

But this isn’t about him.  It’s about his mom. 

I cannot imagine the tears of Hannah when she left her miracle at the House of the Lord.  The joy and sadness and fear all tied up in the little boy she was moving further and further away from. 

But God didn’t stop pouring out on Hannah. 

Not only did she get to still see her son, she got to introduce him to his brothers and sisters. 

Hannah, the childless woman, the barren sinner, the broken one, had four more sons and two daughters.   She was a woman that understood the blessings of her children.  Yes, she was a mother, she had her heart’s desire, her dream, but they were more than that.  She had been seen and heard by the God of the Universe.  By Jehovah Elohim. 

And she never forgot it.  When she looked at her children, she saw the power and love of God.  And she praised Him.  

…

I too am a Hannah. 

I was told ‘no’ many times.  And I didn’t get a ‘yes’ until God said “NOW”.

I’ve known so many other Hannahs.  All told ‘no’ many, many times.  And not getting a ‘yes’ until God said “NOW”.

Every child is a miracle, they truly are.  But sometimes the newness of their soul isn’t what is miraculous, their entire existence is.  They shouldn’t be on this planet.  They shouldn’t be walking around, or more accurately running.  They shouldn’t be eating ALL the food.  Or keeping you up at night.  Or making you laugh.  Or making you smile.  Or driving you crazy.

I guarantee you know one of these miracles.  Some of you are nodding your head.  And even now, some of you are asking, pleading, God for one. 

You are not alone. 

Yes, there are still Hannahs in the world.  Even today I met another and she will be firmly in my prayers.

Yes, there are still ‘no’s being given over and over and over again.

And YES, God is still saying “NOW” and giving a “yes”.  EVEN TODAY.

You don’t get to pick how this ‘yes’ will happen.  Or when.   Or even if.

But it does still happen. 

Hannah can still get her ‘yes’. 

*Your mom and dad already love you so much Baby E.  (And so do I.)