Pursuing the purpose and power of prayer.
This is an experiment–in my own pursuit of a deeper, richer prayer life, I want to share some of the struggles and triumphs I have had in and through prayer. I would also like to share (and gather) suggestions to enrich how we can grow closer to God, closer to others, and closer to becoming more Christlike in our daily walk.
It’s a song I sang as a child in Sunday School–
Trust and obey,
For there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus,
But to trust and obey.
It bothered me as a child, the part about “No other way.” It seemed narrow-minded and harsh. Surely, I could be happy in Jesus just doing my own good things and singing his praises. Besides, I did trust him, I followed the Ten Commandments, and the Golden Rule, and I was a nice person. So why did I feel that I was missing something?
In all the years I’ve been a follower of Christ, I have learned the importance of trust and obedience. I can’t truly follow someone I don’t trust. I can learn from them, admire them, even try to act like them, but eventually, I will try to take the lead, or let go and walk down a different path. Similarly, I can’t say that I trust someone if I won’t obey them. If they ask me to do something, and I ignore their request, or re-interpret it, or come up with excuses why I won’t do it, it really boils down to one thing: I don’t trust that their request has any merit.
In a broken world, filled with sin and pride and selfishness, there are many reasons NOT to trust or obey certain people. Abusers, users, sadists and sociopaths abound. Such people may suggest that there is “no other way to be happy..” than to trust them and obey them implicitly. So when God asks us to put our trust in an invisible Godhead, it seems terrible, final, and harsh. Is God demanding abject humiliation and mindless adherence to his law? Will we lose ourselves in drudgery and joyless obedience to a harsh taskmaster on the whimsical hope of a happy afterlife?
That is a view that is often peddled, and ridiculed. But I think a closer look at the Bible gives us a different picture. Yes, God is harsh and wrathful against sin and sinners–but so am I! I find myself getting furious over injustices and pain caused by sin in the world–I can only imagine how angry God must be to see the way we lie and cheat and abuse each other, and the untold painful consequences he has witnessed through the years. The only thing holding him back is the power of his Mercy. His anger is swallowed up in patient and unfathomable love that is ready to forgive even the worst offenders. And God’s wrath is pure, unlike mine, which is selective against those who have hurt me, but wants to smooth over my own sins. His love is even more pure– he loves even the worst sinner, and even the most unloveable people (in my flawed estimation). He is unwilling that ANYONE stay lost and enslaved by their sinful past.
Think about it– Jesus, who knew God best (being part of the Godhead himself) never painted his Father as a brute who demanded people to become “useful idiots” just to stroke his ego. He didn’t talk about a harsh and unforgiving God who “hated” sinners. Instead, Jesus healed the sick, raised the dead, gave sight to the blind, and spoke to sinners and outcasts as though they were more important than the religious elite…because that was his heart! But more than that, Jesus showed us what it meant to “Trust and Obey”–he didn’t seek fame or fortune for himself, he never owned a home, or sought public office, and he never ran arouns worrying and fretting that God would leave him in the lurch. Even under the worst circumstances leading up to his arrest and crucifixion, Jesus only spent one hour worrying about what was to come, and in that hour of prayer, he found the peace and strength to say, “not my will, but yours be done (Luke 22:42). In his ministry, he humbly walked the byways and taught those who willingly followed him. He healed and encouraged and saved those who came to him; those who trusted him as he trusted his Father. He did not pat on the back those who claimed to follow his Father, but wouldn’t trust him. Nor did he reward those who claimed to obey God, but hated their neighbors, justified their own self-righteousness, and changed God’s laws to feather their own lifestyles.
Does “Trust and Obey” mean that we might lose our status, our wealth, our comfort, and our lives? Not necessarily, but there is no promise that we will be richer, or healthier, or more popular for following Jesus. He didn’t come to make us comfortable or “better than” someone else. In fact, he warned us that while we are in this world, we will have troubles and sorrows (with or without our faith!) So how can we be “happy in Jesus” if we end up homeless, hated, or sick? How can we talk about being happy in Jesus under awful circumstances? Is this just some brainwashing tactic to make us forget how miserable we are? What’s the “payoff” of Trust and Obey?
The answer involves a choice–Do I trust Jesus when he says that he came to give us, not just life, not even just eternal life, but abundant life? If Jesus isn’t trustworthy; if I am not sure that he can or will make my life MORE than I ever dreamed, MORE than I imagine–even in the midst of otherwise difficult circumstances–then I will never be happy in Jesus. But if I DO trust Jesus, then I can be happy, not because of my circumstances, but because I can trust all that he says about them, and that his grace is more than sufficient to see me through. And I know that whatever trials I may be going through can be turned to good because I trust his power and his goodness.
And true obedience can only follow true trust. If I say that God’s rules aren’t important, or don’t apply to me, then I’m really saying I don’t trust him to know what’s best, or that I don’t trust that He is really Good. The temporary happiness that comes from following my way (even if I think I’m doing it for the right reasons) will give way to resentment against God. How dare he stop me from that one thing that brings me joy– how dare he question my “needs” or call my actions “wrong”. How dare he suggest that His way could be better or more abundant than what I know–even if I suspect that what I know and experience isn’t always the best it could be.
No– the longer I follow Jesus, the more that old song rings true, and not harsh or condemning, but full of wisdom and promise. It is with the faith of a child (not stupid or simplistic, but hopeful and eager), and humble (not abject or reluctant) obedience that we find happiness in Jesus, peace for our souls, and strength to face the trying circumstances of this life.
I Thessalonians 5:16-17: “Be joyful always; pray continually”(NIV)
“Rejoice evermore; pray without ceasing” (KJV)
Two verses; five simple words, but they are among the most misunderstood and misused phrases in the New Testament. Critics of the faith use these verses to paint Christianity as a religion of unrealistic fanatics– “shiny-happy,” posturing adherents who do nothing but offer empty words to a deaf and apathetic deity from sunup to sundown. Christians use them to bash or shame others. Feeling depressed or worried? “Tsk, tsk– we’re supposed to be joyful always!” Struggling with circumstances or doubts? “You’re not praying enough (or not praying the right way, or with the right motive, or not really praying at all).” I’m not sure how saints like this actually live when they’re not busy judging others, but I think these verses are important enough for a closer look and more careful treatment.
Both convey the idea of constant engagement, but common sense tells us that they don’t mean 24/7/365…you cannot express joy or recite prayers in your sleep, and God isn’t asking Christians to go without sleep, or to give up all other normal activities. Nor does he ask us to be false or insincere in either pursuit. We are called to rejoice with those who rejoice, but also to weep (or mourn) with those who weep. We are allowed to be mournful, to be remorseful, to be angry, even. We are called to pray, but not to the exclusion of other activities– eating, talking, working– prayer is no excuse to stop engaging with other people, or to skip out on work that needs to be done. There is a similar idea in the Boy Scout motto– “Always be prepared.” This doesn’t mean staying awake every night, or waiting on edge throughout each day, always expecting an imminent crisis. But it does mean that one should be vigilant, attentive to events and circumstances, and have an attitude of preparedness. I would suggest that we do the same with prayer and joyfulness.
These reminders come at the end of a letter that the Apostle Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, who were mostly new converts–very eager to learn all about Christ and how to follow him. They were hard-working (mostly), and generous, and conscientious. But they were falling into two bad habits–worry, and comparison. In this context, the reminders take on a different shade of meaning. If we are prone to worry, it robs us of all joy. It saps our strength, our enthusiasm, our purpose; it leaves us exhausted and unable to lift our faces, let alone lift up others around us. Similarly, if we are comparing our performance with others, we are wasting energy, losing our focus, and we become disillusioned and ineffective.
Always be joyful–joyful–not giddy or silly or amused, but filled with joy– ready to celebrate small victories, cherish small moments, laugh off small defeats and set-backs, and ready to grit your teeth against the suffering and the darkness, because you know how the story ends. We don’t need to be simplistic or naive to be optimistic and joyful– we just need to plug into the source of joy. And that joy becomes our strength in the midst of trouble and our anchor in the midst of chaos.
Pray without ceasing–be perpetually prepared to turn worry into prayer, triumph into praise, pain into petition, doubt into dialogue, heartbreak into heart-cry, gladness into gratitude, and remorse into restoration. Practice making time for prayer, but don’t limit your time with God to a penciled-in appointment with an agenda and a timer.
Don’t skim these short verses; don’t miss out on the blessings they bring. The practice of “always” in this life is but a shadow of what we will experience of Joy and Communion with God throughout eternity.
Rejoice! Enter His presence with gladness– come early, come often. Sit and stay awhile! Make yourself at home! Now– arise, go forth, and conquer!
My mother was fond of using quotes and pithy sayings–“Pretty is as pretty does”, “You’re never fully dressed without a smile”, “Don’t judge a person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.” But one of the sayings that always bothered me was, “Laugh, and the world laughs with you; cry, and you cry alone.”
As a child and a young adult, I dreamed of a family— laughing with my husband and children around the dinner table; tucking in sweet-smelling, freshly bathed toddlers– I knew it wouldn’t always be dreamy like that, but I knew those precious moments would be worth the pains and frustrations that came with them.
Except they didn’t. The years passed. I worked hard, I dated occasionally, and I waited. I loved my work as a teacher, and later as a youth services librarian. Many of my friends married; my siblings married and had children. I was surrounded most days with amazing, talented, infuriating, inspiring, adorable, mostly happy, and sometimes moody teens and children. Other people’s children. And I felt guilty, frustrated, and angry. I wanted marriage. I wanted my own children. Well-meaning people kept setting me up on dates or suggesting pen pals, dating services, other churches to visit (“they have such a great program for singles…”), moving to a different town or bigger city. Some even suggested that I wasn’t trying hard enough–I needed a make-over, a new wardrobe, a new strategy. I needed to be more assertive with men, or less independent, or more feminine. I needed to be less picky. Other suggestions were even harsher–I wasn’t mature enough; God needed to “grow me up” before I would be ready for marriage.
In my mid-thirties, just as my “clock” was ticking louder and more insistent, I received an awful blow. “Polycystic ovary syndrome” meant that I had certain symptoms (underactive thyroid, facial hair, a greater risk of ovarian cysts, ovarian cancer, and heart disease) and certain irregularities, mood swings, etc. associated with my monthly cycle. But it also meant that my dream of having children was unlikely ever to be anything but a dream. Even if I had married young; even if I married within a week and started hormone therapy or invitro, my chances of conceiving and carrying to full term were essentially nil. I was stunned. I was numb for several hours, and then I cried.
And I cried alone. I wasn’t always crying; I read a lot, and watched a lot of TV and movies, sang along with my favorite CDs, danced around my living room like no one was watching (after all, no one was watching!), and, sometimes, I prayed. But I cried a lot, too. And I prayed through the tears. My prayers were sometimes prayers of anger, or confusion, questioning God’s love, his timing, his purpose. All those years of praying, asking God for a husband and children– had he been laughing at my pain? He knew I couldn’t have children– why had he allowed me to hope for so many years?
But long before I knew that I was barren; long before I had fully formulated my dream of the family I would never have, God had a plan for my good. For every tear I shed, he was right there with me– even when I couldn’t feel him there; even when I raged at him. I had a dream– it was a good dream, but it was a dream. And God’s plans are better than my dreams. ALWAYS. His plans are for our good–but not always for our pleasure.
Sometimes I still cry at night for the children I never had. But when I finish crying, I thank God. Not because of those missing children, but because out of that pain has come compassion– for other women who cry similar tears. Tears for children lost or never born; tears for children they chose to give up, or children who were taken. I thank God because of the many experiences I ended up gaining as a single woman– opportunities to travel, to pursue interests and develop skills. How many more opportunities might I have taken had I trusted God more than my dreams earlier and more fully?
And I thank God because of what he has given–nieces and nephews, grand-nieces and grand-nephews, former students and patrons who are still in touch and who still enrich my life. Most of all, I thank God for the privilege of leaving my tears to join my husband (a man who pursued me even as I was ready to give up on my dream of being a wife–I became a bride at 46!), my step-children, and our grandchildren; as well as a new set of wonderful siblings, nieces, nephews, and great-nephews (we’re still waiting for great-nieces on that side of the family).
Even if I never had the “happy ending” of a husband and family, I would still be grateful to my very good Father. And I will continue to pray through the tears when they come.
Isaiah 26:3 NIV (via http://www.biblegateway.com)You will keep in perfect peace
those whose minds are steadfast,
because they trust in you.
For many years, I owned a cat named Galahad. He was not, as his name suggests, a brave, noble sort of cat. He was often skittery, nervous, demanding, or absent. As he got older, he was sometimes irascible, and hissed at strangers and children. But he could also be cuddly and engaging, playful, and present.
Like many pet cats, Galahad would “meow” when he wanted attention–if he wanted to play, or wanted more food, or wanted me to stop singing along with the radio (or wanted the radio to be silent). Recently, I read an article that analyzed the different types of “meows” of a pet cat, and claimed that cats do not “meow”, except to communicate with humans. See https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/all-dogs-go-heaven/201809/why-do-cats-meow-humans for more details. Cats have an entire language of “meows”– a language meant just for humans–to communicate their needs and moods more effectively. With other cats or other creatures, they communicate through scent, movement, growls and purring.
Galahad liked to “speak” to me, and I tried to respond to his needs and understand “his” language. But when Galahad was very happy, well-fed, content, or, late in life when we was in pain from arthritis, he would purr. This was intimate communication of a kind reserved for other cats and trusted humans. He would curl up in my lap, or near my feet, or on the bed by my side, and purr. Sometimes, he would lie, belly exposed, feet drawn up, head flopped back– completely vulnerable; completely relaxed–purring, snoring, drooling with absolute abandon.
When we pray, we often “meow”– we use formal prayer language, and try very hard to get God’s attention and express a variety of needs, as though God cannot understand an other expression. But God’s understanding goes beyond language. “26 In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. 27 And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.” (Romans 8:26-27 NIV via http://www.biblegateway.com).
We don’t need to “meow” to get God’s attention. We can purr, content in the knowledge that God hears us, loves us, and knows our needs, wants, and moods– better than we know ourselves! In fact, God promises to keep “in ‘purr-fect’ peace” those whose minds are focused on Him; those who trust Him faithfully.
I have a very bad habit (one among many). I tend to be competitive, and a bit of a perfectionist when I work at something. I’m never satisfied with “good enough” when I think I can do a little better. This includes shopping for bargains. I will go to great lengths to stretch a dollar; to save a few cents–outlet and discount stores, sale shelves, bargain basements–I’ve haunted them all.
But prayer shouldn’t be a “bargain basement” encounter. God is not in the business of selling. He’s in the business of redeeming. God is lavish in his Grace, and sufficient– even abundant– in his blessings.
It’s not that I should sit back and expect God to lavish me with abundant resources and comforts. But why do I hunt for the “bargains” in my prayer life? Why do I ask God for the bare minimum when I pray– “Lord, just help me get through this next hour.” “Father, help me pass this test.” “God, I need 10 dollars to get through the week.”
I’m eager to hunt for resources that I “find” at a bargain. Why am I not eager to see how God provides for my needs every day? Why is it more satisfying to work hard for what I need, than to see God come to my rescue when my efforts are not enough?
It’s not that I am asking for bad things or wrong things, or that I should be asking for so much more. But what does my attitude say about God? I say that God is Love, I say that he is Good. I say that he can do anything, and that he is gracious and merciful. But my prayer life says otherwise.
It’s time that I ask God for “my daily bread”, without expecting day-old leftovers. And, when he chooses to give me Manna, it’s time for me to see that provision for the miracle and the blessing that it is.
Recently, a group of churches in our area have begun praying strategically for our communities. And many of the participants have asked for structure and guidance. What should I pray? How do I pray for specific needs if I don’t know all of the people involved? I know my own town, but what about the towns five or ten miles away?
There are many on-line or printed guidelines available, but let me just list a few that I have used over the years, as well as some tips I’ve picked up recently.
First, ask God for guidance! There is no “wrong” way to pray for others, but God can help direct your thoughts, your memory, and your heart in ways no person or list can.
Second, try to start with broad categories, and then narrow your focus. You can pray for:
Third, get to know your neighborhood and community better! Take a walk or drive around your community. Introduce yourself to people you haven’t met or invite someone to tea or dinner. Get to know the friends of your children or your spouse’s co-workers. Consider meeting with other believers and building a community of local churches. Volunteer for a local charity or organization. Look for needs that you can help meet (and pray for!) Does your community have an online presence? Get to know your local officials or the men and women who patrol your neighborhood. Build positive relationships and ask others if you can pray for them or offer to listen and help.
There are also great opportunities to pray globally. Using some of the same strategies and categories above you can:
Pray for churches and missions around the globe– pray for the persecuted church, and for the churches that are in danger of falling asleep!
Pray for health crises around the world– COVID, AIDS, diseases, medical research, etc.
Pray for those in danger from War, Famine, and Oppression.
Pray for those who suffer from mental and emotional torment– demon possessions, mental illness, depression, moral confusion, dysphoria, and trauma.
Pray for families!
Pray for economic stability around the world– pray for nations and regions that are experiencing economic hardship, especially due to war, famine, corruption, etc.
Pray for Peace among the nations!
Get to know more about other countries and regions around the world. This will help you pray more strategically and with greater confidence.
Ask God to give you wisdom as you pray for your community AND your world!
I know several people (myself included) who are facing stressful situations on a daily basis– some are fighting cancer, some are caring for aging parents, some have rebellious teens, some have lost jobs or are in danger of losing their home, some are fighting depression or addiction, others have lost close family members–some are facing multiple stressors every day.
Stress is a killer and a thief. It robs us of energy, time, and focus. And it isolates us– as we focus on our stressful surroundings, they begin to close in on us, hemming us in and keeping others out. We long to be stress-free–sitting on a beach or lying in a hammock or on a chaise without a care in the world– no worries, just peace. And we pray for it.
But peace isn’t the absence of stressful circumstances. I once met a man who was, in fact, lying on a chaise by a poolside, a sandy beach less than 100 feet away– palm trees and gentle breezes relieving the searing heat, icy drinks available at a whim. He had nothing to do but soak in the heat and sea air, relax, and enjoy his day. He had all the time and money he needed to find perfect peace– but he didn’t have it. He was bored, and restless, and dissatisfied with life. He couldn’t lie still, and he found no wonder in all the beauty and peace all around him.
Peace doesn’t come by denying stressful circumstances, or running away from them, either. Ask the next three people you meet how they are doing, and they will likely answer, “I’m fine.” We know they’re not really “fine”– they know that we know they’re not “fine,” yet neither of us tells or demands to know the truth. Stress isn’t contagious, but we avoid sharing it. I don’t want to hear about your stress, in case it reminds me of my own; you don’t want to share your stress in case I judge you as being weak or whiny. We learn from others around us that “success sells.” “Fake it until you make it,” as some would say.
We can’t get peace by any means in our own power– we can’t manufacture it, legislate it, demand it, buy it, trade for it, or wish it into being. In fact, the more we try to chase after it, the more elusive it becomes. Peace is a by-product of faith and trust– the result of a relationship in which circumstances are not borne or understood only by us but shared with someone all-wise and all-powerful. Our circumstances don’t need to disappear, but we must believe that they are not insurmountable or permanent, and that we are not forgotten in the midst of them.
You will keep in perfect peace
those whose minds are steadfast,
because they trust in you. (Isaiah 26:3 NIV)
Peace comes from knowing and sharing with the Prince of Peace. He doesn’t take away our circumstances (though he can, and sometimes will remove some of our stressors–even against our will). Most of the time, Jesus will take away our blinders, instead. He will turn our focus away from our own pain, loss, frustration, or confusion, and allow us to see Him working around us, in us, through us, in ways that put things back in perspective.
The peaceful scene I described above– the beach, the pool, the gentle breezes– I was in the same location and enjoying every minute of it. This in spite of numerous bug bites, an almost certain case of sunburn, and a very short time before I had to return to the snowy Midwest, and the normal stresses of my ordinary life. But, while I knew they were waiting for me, I wasn’t concentrating on them. And even while I enjoyed the beauty of the beach, I wasn’t focused on the sun or the sand, or my tan/burn progress. I was enjoying the memory of working with rescued children, of meeting amazing foster parents and missionaries, and of seeing what God was doing to heal and bring peace to lives that had been ravaged. I was seeing in the beauty of my short stay at the resort the promise of what God has in store for me throughout eternity. THAT will be perfect peace– not shortened by time, not diminished by restlessness or dissatisfaction, or denial.
The story of Hannah is filled with a network of complex relationships– Hannah and her husband, her rival, her spiritual leaders, her son’s foster-parent, and the son she desired and yet gave away. But Hannah’s most complex and important relationship was with her God.
What can we learn by looking at this relationship?
Hannah’s Prayer
2 Then Hannah prayed and said:
“My heart rejoices in the Lord;
in the Lord my horn is lifted high.
My mouth boasts over my enemies,
for I delight in your deliverance.
2 “There is no one holy like the Lord;
there is no one besides you;
there is no Rock like our God.
3 “Do not keep talking so proudly
or let your mouth speak such arrogance,
for the Lord is a God who knows,
and by him deeds are weighed.
4 “The bows of the warriors are broken,
but those who stumbled are armed with strength.
5 Those who were full hire themselves out for food,
but those who were hungry are hungry no more.
She who was barren has borne seven children,
but she who has had many sons pines away.
6 “The Lord brings death and makes alive;
he brings down to the grave and raises up.
7 The Lord sends poverty and wealth;
he humbles and he exalts.
8 He raises the poor from the dust
and lifts the needy from the ash heap;
he seats them with princes
and has them inherit a throne of honor.
“For the foundations of the earth are the Lord’s;
on them he has set the world.
9 He will guard the feet of his faithful servants,
but the wicked will be silenced in the place of darkness.
“It is not by strength that one prevails;
10 those who oppose the Lord will be broken.
The Most High will thunder from heaven;
the Lord will judge the ends of the earth.
“He will give strength to his king
and exalt the horn of his anointed.”
1 Samuel 2:1-10 (NIV) taken from BibleGateway.com
1 Samuel 1:11 New International Version (NIV)
http://www.biblegateway.com
11 And she made a vow, saying, “Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head.”
Today, we get to the essence of Hannah’s prayer. And it is not a prayer that most of us would pray. Hannah asks for a son to take away her misery and show her God’s favor. But in the same breath, she promises to give her son back to the Lord forever. How many of us would ask for something so rare and precious just to turn around and give it away?
As I write this, my country, my friends, and even my family are deeply divided over the issue of abortion. Much is being made about a woman’s “right” to decide whether and when she will have a child. “My body, My choice,” is a common cry among the pro-choice crowd, while the other side points fingers and yells, “baby killer” at those women who choose to end their pregnancy. But yelling and chanting don’t change hearts or facts. A woman cannot actually “choose” to become pregnant at will. In Hannah’s case, she was in anguish over her inability to “choose” to become pregnant. In the case of a modern woman, she may be in anguish over not being able to avoid an unwanted pregnancy or avoid unwanted complications resulting from her pregnancy. She may, like Hannah, be in anguish over her inability to conceive or to carry to full term. But in any case, the idea that pregnancy and birth are simply a matter of “choice” is based on a false reality. There is an illusion of “reproductive autonomy” because of modern medicine. We have birth control that makes claims of being “safe and effective”; we have methods to increase fertility, regulate menstruation, reduce the chances of conception, and even stop the fertilization process within a day or two. But no woman can simply “choose” to become pregnant (or stop being pregnant) at will. Women cannot choose the gender of their children; they cannot guarantee the date of birth; they cannot produce a future world leader or athletic prodigy just by force of will. They cannot guarantee their child perfect health, long life, wealth, or happiness. And reproduction among human beings is never “autonomous”!
Hannah’s story seems the antithesis of abortion– here we have a woman begging for a child; she is in anguish over her inability to conceive. And God hears her cry and blesses her with a son.
But today, I want to look at Hannah in a slightly different light. I think Hannah would have a great deal of compassion for those women who suffer anguish because of their womb– women whose wombs are achingly empty; women whose wombs seem to betray them as pregnancy after pregnancy ends in a miscarriage; women who long for their womb to be home to a little girl, even as they have a house full of much-loved little boys (or vice versa); women whose wombs hold anger and bitterness because they have been the unwilling vessel of abuse, incest, and rape.
Infertility and “unwanted” pregnancy are not mutually exclusive. They are distant cousins–manifestations of a fallen world where none of us control even the circumstances of our own bodies. And it is in this context that Hannah makes an extraordinary vow.
Hannah gives birth to a son– the fulfillment of all her longings. Or is he? Hannah gets to carry him in her womb; she gets to wean him. But then she vows that she will give him up– relinquish all rights to be there when he scrapes his knee or loses his first tooth, when his voice begins to deepen and his hugs require her to stand on tiptoe. What kind of mother is Hannah? She will never have all those stories of the little “mom” moments; no memories of tucking him in after a long day, or watching him climb a tree, or run after his dad. She will never hold his hand on dark stormy nights, or ruffle his hair after it gets a new cut (in fact, she vows he will never GET a haircut).
There are moms–unsung, living in the shadows– who have made the incredible sacrifice of “giving up” their children. Sometimes by choice, sometimes by force. Some have given them up for adoption at birth. Some have lost parental rights due to divorce, incarceration, or other life circumstances. Some have had their children stolen or taken from them in tragic circumstances. Hannah was given other children after she gave up Samuel, but she never “got over” the loss of her son. No one ever does.
Which brings me back to the debate about abortion. We do not have “reproductive autonomy.” Our wombs are not just another part of our bodies. They are designed to nurture and prepare for new life. To the extent that they fulfill that design, they bring joy and pain, hope and hurt. In denying that reality and embracing the false promise of “my body, my choice”, we don’t erase the lives lost to abortion– we just bury them. And for the women who are making that choice, we must offer compassion. The pain and anguish they suffer before and after an abortion are every bit as real as that suffered by Hannah in her quest to have a son, only to give him up.
The story in the Bible about Hannah is about prayer; it is also about depression, anguish, misunderstanding, marriage, rivalry, infertility, trust, and obedience.
Yesterday, I talked a bit about the priest, Eli, and his wicked sons. It is that same Eli who becomes a surrogate parent for Hannah’s precious, promised son, Samuel.
Think about that. In all my years reading through this story, it never occurred to me that Hannah had already known about Eli’s sons and their wickedness. Hannah knew that Eli was not the best role model for her small son. She knew that she was sending her child into an environment that included corruption, injustice, and perversion. This child she had promised to “give back” to God would grow up in a family more dysfunctional and dangerous than if he had stayed with Hannah, Elkanah, and even Peninnah and his half-siblings.
The Bible does not give us all the details of either family, (https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Samuel+2%3A11-26&version=ESV ) but there is evidence that Elkanah was a good provider, an honest and worthy man, and a good father. Eli, on the other hand, was told of his sons’ wickedness, and, other than giving one mild rebuke, he turned a blind eye to their practices and grew fat and lazy in his service. There is no mention of a mother or motherly influence at all in Samuel’s new “foster” family. Why would Hannah surrender her maternal rights (and why would Elkanah agree to forfeit his paternal rights) to send Samuel into this hornet’s nest?
Perhaps the answer can be found just before the account of Eli’s wicked sons. At the end of Hannah’s Song (which we will examine in more detail later), we have a profound statement of faith:
1 Samuel 2:9-10 English Standard Version (ESV)
http://www.biblegateway.com
9 “He will guard the feet of his faithful ones,
but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness,
for not by might shall a man prevail.
10 The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces;
against them he will thunder in heaven.
The Lord will judge the ends of the earth;
he will give strength to his king
and exalt the horn of his anointed.”
Hannah was not giving Samuel to Eli to raise; she was giving Samuel to God to raise and guide and protect.
I am writing this today, not to encourage parents to absolve themselves of responsibility for training and caring for their own family, but to encourage those parents who may not be in a position to guide and protect their children. Some of us have children, grandchildren, siblings, or other young and vulnerable family members living away from our care or influence. Some are living in dysfunctional and even dangerous environments. God KNOWS. He SEES. He HEARS. We do not know, nor do we understand, why God allows innocent people to suffer. We do not know what fears or concerns Hannah and Elkanah may have had about Samuel’s upbringing. We do not know what Samuel endured under Eli’s care, or what he saw or heard in the presence of Eli’s sons. As a child, he may have been spared some of the worst of their behavior.
We do know two things, however. Hannah and Elkanah may or may not have had reason to trust Eli. He did allow them to visit each year, and he seems to have been fond of young Samuel; certainly the Bible stories I used to read in Sunday School made Eli seem like a kindly uncle. But the reality was that Samuel’s life was not in Eli’s hands–it was in God’s! Hannah and Elkanah trusted God to guide their son, even as they relished every moment they were able to spend with him. They certainly prayed for his safety and growth in wisdom as he served in the Tabernacle of the Almighty.
Secondly, we know that God can bring good out of even bad circumstances. Eli was weak and indulgent with his sons; he was warned and did nothing. He sat down on the job and faced judgment without repentance. When Samuel was grown, this pattern could have been repeated. Samuel’s own sons began taking bribes and perverting justice. Samuel was still serving faithfully, even as an old man, but his sons were not following his good example. However, when the people came to Samuel with reports of his sons’ activities and asked him to step aside and appoint a king, Samuel sought the Lord. God reassured him, and Samuel was faithful to appoint and advise Israel’s first king, Saul. God was faithful to guide Samuel’s footsteps, and to bring justice against the wicked sons of Eli.
Eli’s flawed examples of fatherhood and leadership still served as models for Samuel. Even as a child, he showed wisdom, respect, and love for his “foster father” and mentor. Hannah and Elkanah never wavered in their trust that God could and would guide their son and provide for him. Their faith wasn’t based on the knowledge that Samuel would one day become the chief priest and anoint both Saul and his successor, David. They only knew that God could be trusted.
That is not a promise that every child in a bad environment will be “safe” and rise above their circumstances to become famous or powerful. But it is reason to keep hope and faith when we feel powerless. None of Hannah and Elkanah’s (or Peninnah’s) other children are mentioned in the Biblical narrative. They may have been honest, upright citizens, successful in business or esteemed in their hometown of Ramah. Samuel’s story is not a parable–there is no promise about “giving a child back” to God and being able to expect success and fame and blessing. There is, however, a lesson here about recognizing that every child is a gift– not a reward, not a burden–our children belong to God. We should do our best to guide them, nurture them, protect them, and above all, to love them. But their destiny– including tragic circumstances and glorious opportunities–is not ours to control.
Next time, we explore another important relationship– that of Hannah and her Son.
Pursuing Prayer 