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.
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?
Even when we don’t understand it, God has a plan, and it is always bigger than “us.” God closed Hannah’s womb– that was part of His plan. But it was not the end of the plan, or the point of the plan, or a hitch in the plan. Hannah’s barrenness was not a punishment for anything that she had done, but Hannah’s response to it (and the response of all the others) provides us with an example of faith, persistence, and obedience. Hannah didn’t know the end of her own story– she didn’t know that her son would play such an important role in the history of his nation or in the history of God’s ultimate plan of salvation for the human race. Hannah didn’t know her story would be contained in the pages of scriptures to encourage people centuries into the future. How would our response to current circumstances change if we considered that God may be using us them to bless, challenge, or encourage others through our stumbling steps of responding in faith? The results of our faith (or lack of faith) will have an impact far beyond just our immediate lives.
God is sovereign. Nothing happened to Hannah outside of God’s sight; nothing was beyond his control; nothing about this story took God by surprise. Hannah, even in her despair and frustration, could trust her all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful God.
God is more interested in our wholeness than our “happiness.” Our culture (and our selfish nature) tends to focus on our comfort, our accomplishments, and our happiness. When we are not happy, when we are frustrated in our goals, when we are restless or oppressed, we tend to think that God has turned His back on us. But it is often during times of grief, pain, loss, and darkness that we are stretched and reshaped to be stronger and wiser, growing closer to God and others. God doesn’t want us to wallow in despair and self-pity; but He will lead us through the very “valley of the shadow of death.” But, as Hannah experienced, God sees our sorrow, hears our cry, and answers our call.
God is trustworthy and faithful. God knew Hannah’s heart. He knew her longing for a child. In Hannah’s case, He had caused her to be barren for a season, and then He gave her the desire of her heart and much more. But even if He had not given her a child of the womb, God gave her a loving husband, a compassionate (if imperfect) spiritual leader, a rival who could not triumph over her, and most of all, His presence and love.
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.
1 Samuel 1:11 New International Version (NIV) 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.
Hannah is a Bible heroine. Her story is an inspiration to many women who suffer, whether from infertility, depression, or being misunderstood. Hannah is a popular girl’s name. Peninnah, on the other hand, is a name you rarely hear today. No one wants to name their child after a bully, and a rival to a Biblical matriarch.
As we read through the story in 1 Samuel, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Samuel+1&version=NIV it seems hard enough that Hannah is barren. Especially as it is revealed that God is responsible for her condition. It seems unfair and harsh. But her trouble doesn’t end there. She has a rival–Elkanah’s other wife– who provokes, irritates, and taunts her, making her cry and keeping her in a state of anguish and stress. Peninnah has many children. She has reason to be joyful and proud. Yet she spends her time harassing and hurting Hannah, a woman who is already “beneath” her in society.
Rivalries tend to bring out the worst in us. Catfights, gossip, taunting, undermining others–books, movies, and even TV series have been built on such pettiness. Whether rivals at school, rivals in romantic relationships, rivals in business, or rivals in our own inflated egos, we allow our world to be narrowed to focus on two people who don’t even exist! We magnify our rival’s faults, twist her motives, and hold grudges over what she “probably” meant when she said “that.” And we justify our overreactions, our grievances, and our tendency to see ourselves as innocent victims.
In the case of Hannah and Peninnah, their world was already small. They were sharing a husband and a household, and likely somewhat isolated from the kind of society with which we are familiar. We live in societies where polygamy is illegal and wives do not (generally) live together. Our families tend to live in single units of husband, wife, and children. However, we also live in a society where fidelity is becoming more rare. Marriages break down, couple break up, and “sharing” a husband, if not a household, is more common than we might admit. Even in divorce and remarriage, we may find a rival in our husband’s ex-wife, or our ex-husband’s new partner, or our partner’s ex-mother-in-law (or our current mother-in-law) or among our step-children.
Elkanah is not an innocent bystander in all this. We don’t know why he has two wives, and the Bible doesn’t say that Elkanah did NOT love Peninnah, but it makes a point of saying that Elkanah DID love Hannah (suggesting that he might have been indifferent to his other wife). Also, the Bible is silent about whether or not Elkanah was aware of the rivalry going on under his roof. He seems totally oblivious and largely absent. Even though he loves Hannah, he doesn’t take care to protect her from Peninnah’s spite. Once again, we find parallels in our own situations– husbands who feel overwhelmed or blind-sided by the rivalries going on around them; husbands who ignore the firestorms; even men who revel in being the focus of so much attention.
But, before we label Peninnah the great villain of this story (or turn our anger on Elkanah for letting their rivalry continue), let’s be careful not to rush to judgment. The Bible doesn’t call Peninnah a villain, merely a rival. It says that she provoked Hannah, and taunted her, and even made her cry. However, the story is focused on Hannah. Her reaction to this taunting was to do what so many of us do– to let it heap up on her and push her down into anguish. Hannah doesn’t fight back. But neither does she stand up to her rival. If Peninnah is trying to make Hannah feel worthless and depressed, she succeeds because Hannah allows herself to believe it.
I think there are several key lessons here, and I think God tells us the whole story because He wants us to see these lessons:
Rivalries and conflicts WILL arise in our lives. We shouldn’t pretend otherwise or refuse to deal with them. If you have a rival in your life at this moment, stop and think of ways you can seek peace. Pray, reach out, seek help. This is especially important where children are involved. If you have a rivalry with in-laws, ex-spouses, your children’s step-parents, it WILL impact all your relationships. It will be the way your children learn to relate to others. Whether you are the “bully” or the “middle man” or the “doormat”, you have a responsibility to make an effort to restore harmony. You cannot change the other person, but you can (with God’s help) change the way you build your legacy. And God can change everyone involved.
While Hannah did well not to react to Peninnah with her own spite and malice, she let her rival “win” by saying and doing nothing. Jesus teaches us that we are not to ignore those who hate or despise us, but to love them and pray for them. Hannah could have offered to reach out to Peninnah and her children, but she remained isolated. Maybe that was because of Peninnah’s actions or bitterness, but the Bible doesn’t say that Hannah made any effort to end this rivalry, either. She didn’t seek help from her loving husband, and she didn’t seek help from her loving God until she was at the end of her rope.
Spite, malice, bitterness, or even self-righteousness (or whatever else may have prompted Peninnah’s nastiness) not only hurts others, it hurts us and blinds us to the opportunity to do good. Peninnah had many children and lived in the same household with Hannah. Instead of taunting her and causing her grief, she could have opened up her heart to allow for a happy, unified family. Peninnah’s hurtful actions are her legacy to every generation that reads this story. She may have been a wonderful mom, a talented women, a real beauty– but she will always be known as the rival who made Hannah miserable. Our actions, even in our own household, have eternal consequences. Small acts of pettiness and spite can follow us for the rest of our lives, destroying our reputations, and blotting out all our other “good works”.
Our abilities, skills, talents, status, or fertility DO NOT define our worth. God closed Hannah’s womb– he never closed His heart toward her. He gave her a husband who loved her and provided for her. He kept his eyes on her until the time was right to bless her in a supernatural way. God had opened Peninnah’s womb, but she kept her heart closed, and bragged about her children as though she alone were responsible for them. God had provided Peninnah with a husband who provided for her and created a family with her. She had children and a secure home, and reason to sacrifice to God with thanksgiving, yet her focus, even during her visit to the tabernacle, seems to have stayed on destroying her rival.
What makes Hannah a heroine in this story is NOT the way she bears up under bullying. Even though she didn’t get sucked into anger and malice, she fell victim to despair and depression. Hannah’s victory comes ONLY after she turns everything over to God in prayer. Peninnah’s pettiness is crushed by God’s miraculous provision.
We should also learn from Peninnah’s actions. Peninnah, even though she has been blessed with children, watches as her husband gives a double portion to his “other” wife– because he loves her. The Bible doesn’t say that he loves Hannah more or better than Peninnah, but Peninnah seems to be resentful of whatever love he gives to anyone else. How often am I envious of someone without considering the pain or grief they may be experiencing? How often do I provoke others by “showing off” my blessings or rubbing in what I perceive to be God’s favor? God loved Peninnah. He blessed her with a loving husband and children. But she seems to be ungracious and mean-spirited. Am I a secret “bully” to others, instead of seeing them as precious and loved by our Heavenly Father?
God’s love can change relationships and rivalries. God’s blessings are “enough.” And when we focus on God’s provision, instead of our rivals’ provocation, we will experience peace and productivity. That’s what happened for Hannah. May this be true in our lives, too– That we would turn to God, and replace bitterness, pettiness, pain and rivalry with His joy, fulfillment, and grace.
1 There was a certain man from Ramathaim, a Zuphite from the hill country of Ephraim, whose name was Elkanah son of Jeroham, the son of Elihu, the son of Tohu, the son of Zuph, an Ephraimite. 2 He had two wives; one was called Hannah and the other Peninnah. Peninnah had children, but Hannah had none.
3Year after year this man went up from his town to worship and sacrifice to the Lord Almighty at Shiloh, where Hophni and Phinehas, the two sons of Eli, were priests of the Lord. 4 Whenever the day came for Elkanah to sacrifice, he would give portions of the meat to his wife Peninnah and to all her sons and daughters. 5 But to Hannah he gave a double portion because he loved her, and the Lord had closed her womb. 6 Because the Lord had closed Hannah’s womb, her rival kept provoking her in order to irritate her. 7 This went on year after year. Whenever Hannah went up to the house of the Lord, her rival provoked her till she wept and would not eat. 8 Her husband Elkanah would say to her, “Hannah, why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?”
We don’t normally spend much time studying Samuel’s father, Elkanah. Yet the story of Hannah and Samuel begins with this man. Not only that, but it begins with a lesson in his genealogy and heritage. We learn that Elkanah was from Ramathaim (a town in the hill country of the tribal lands of Ephraim). As a Zuphite, however, Elkanah (and thus his son, Samuel) were also descended from the Kohathites, and were of the Levitical priestly line.
Hannah was one of two wives of Elkanah. We don’t know why Elkanah had two wives, but we know that the other wife, Peninnah, had children; likely several (see verse 4). Hannah, however, was barren– and this was “because the Lord had closed her womb.” There is nothing to indicate that this a result of any sin on the part of Hannah or Elkanah–there is no reason given for God’s decision to keep Hannah from becoming a mother. There is also no reason to believe that Elkanah was angry or disappointed or embarrassed by Hannah’s condition. In the society of that time, a man could divorce his wife for minor offenses; in this society, barrenness would be seen as a major defect, a stigma, and grounds for divorce. Hannah faced the possibility of rejection, abandonment, and condemnation from her husband. Yet Elkanah loved Hannah, and honored her with a double portion for their yearly offering.
Even with a loving and supportive husband, however, Hannah is inconsolable. And it is here that I think many of do a disservice to Elkanah. The Bible tells us that Peninnah taunted Hannah and drove her to tears. When she would not eat, Elkanah asked some basic questions. Why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted? and the one that always makes me cringe– Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?
These questions always bothered me. It seemed to me that Elkanah was either clueless or in denial about the bitter rivalry going on under his very roof. And his questions seemed to underline his ignorance.
A closer look at the context, however shows that Elkanah may be more a victim of our modern cultural understanding than a victim of any deficiencies as a husband. It says on the day that Elkanah was to sacrifice– an indication that he was inside the tabernacle and on duty –that Peninnah was taunting Hannah. If Elkanah was ignorant of the torment Hannah faced, it may very well be that it was being kept from him by Hannah herself. As a woman, I’m also guilty of expecting that my husband will “pick up” on non-verbal clues, or otherwise intuitively “understand” why I am depressed, or tired, or angry. Husbands, as loving and attentive as they may be, are not mind readers, and I have been guilty of making mine play a frustrating guessing game as he seeks to offer help. Men are also more likely to start by asking questions to “get to the root” of the problem, when we are seeking comfort and understanding, before we seek a solution. Elkanah and Hannah are no different in this respect than most of us today. Hannah is not a superwoman–she cries at the party and won’t eat. Elkanah is not a superman–he can’t “fix” Hannah’s sadness, nor can he feel the total depth of her despair. Finally, Elkanah asks a question that gives us a window into his own secret anguish. “Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?” I want to rest here for a minute. I think we tend to get caught up in the words, and miss the heart of this plea. What is he really expressing? I don’t think Elkanah is trying to exaggerate his worth, nor is he trying to minimize Hannah’s desperation. But there is a heartfelt cry to be “enough.” So many times, when we face infertility, miscarriage, or the loss of a child, we focus on the mother’s feelings of loss and emptiness. In this story, we look at Hannah as being an outsider in her own family– the wife who “can’t”–the one who is in distress. Elkanah’s question may even seem insensitive and arrogant. Listen to it again, though, and you can hear the broken heart of a man who loves his wife, even as she is pulling away and allowing her grief to consume her. “Don’t I mean more to you?” “Am I not enough to keep you from despair?” Yes, Elkanah has children with Peninnah, but he longs for happiness and fulfillment in his relationship with Hannah. The Bible never says how many children Peninnah had, but it seems clear that in Elkanah’s eyes, Hannah was worth far more than “ten sons.”
I am broken as I think of times when I have been so consumed in my own grief and “neediness” that I have pushed away those who love me most, shutting them out, and making them question their own worth.
How many times have I done the same to the Lover of My Soul?
How many times do I focus on the one thing I don’t have, or the two annoying people in my life, and ignore the blessings God has poured out? When was the last time I made an extra effort to communicate to my husband how much he DOES mean to me, instead of leaving him to wonder? How many tears have I poured out with my face turned away from my Loving Father?
Hannah’s husband asks some leading questions– they lead Hannah to collapse before the only one who can bring healing and joy. Hannah’s prayer comes from a point of being broken– far more than needing a child, Hannah needs the love and understanding her husband longs to give her, and the joy and blessing her Heavenly Father has been waiting to offer.
Elkanah’s heart is to have joy and oneness with Hannah– with or without children. God’s heart is to have a joyful and trusting relationship with you. And with me. Today, I want to be open with God about whatever is breaking my heart– even though He already knows. Hiding my hurt, wallowing in it, and saying to God, “No. You are NOT enough!” will keep me in a downward spiral. Letting God prove that He IS enough is the way forward into healing, joy, and peace.
We know the end of this story– Hannah pours out her heart to God and God responds with compassion and blessing. He opens Hannah’s womb, giving her and her husband a son who will go on to play a key role in Israel’s history and God’s story of redemption. He continues to bless Hannah and Elkanah with other children, and, hopefully, a renewed relationship of joy and commitment.
May our prayer journey today lead us toward the Love of our Good Father– whether from a place of brokenness, need, confusion, joy, frustration, or victory.
Welcome to a New Year! And everything that lies before us is shrouded in mystery. But is that a cause for fear or excitement?
That is the question that weighed heavily on the mind of Ebenezer Scrooge in “A Christmas Carol.” Scrooge carried resentment and bitterness from his past, and isolation, anger, and disdain about the present. And he greatly feared a future he could not manage or define.
After visits from the Ghost of Christmas Past and the Ghost of Christmas Present, Scrooge was left emotionally off-balance and fearing the worst. Finally, he was visited by the third mysterious spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. He already knew the sad fate of his friend, Jacob Marley. Would this spiritual visitor show Scrooge a dire future already fated, or merely shadows of what might be? And the Ghost delivers strange sights– predators gleefully trading in the belongings of the recently deceased, heartless business acquaintances discussing the funeral arrangements of one of their fellows, and grieving family members in the household of Bob Cratchit. But what was his own fate? Where was Ebenezer Scrooge in the Christmases yet to come?
The answer comes in a cemetery, where Scrooge sees a newly-dug grave and a stone bearing his own name!
Death always seems to come as a surprise, even when we know that we will all die someday. Our own death may haunt us, but usually from a safe distance. It will come someday. Once we are old. Once we are weak, and sick, and ready to rest. Once we have achieved our goals and fulfilled our purposes. But that’s not how death works. It comes in its own time, not ours. It comes, not as an expected closure, but as a rude interruption of our hopes and dreams.
Ebenezer Scrooge, forced to deal with his mortality, and the legacy of his past and present, realizes that life is not what we forge out of our own plans and our strength of will or our hard work. Life is a gift. But life is not a given. Life has a purpose, regardless of the purposes and goals we bring to it. And that purpose has to do with giving and receiving other gifts– generosity, hope, forgiveness, encouragement, time, fellowship, and Love.
This Ghost never speaks to Scrooge with words. Instead, he shows Scrooge a world in which Scrooge has no more chances to give or receive gifts. He has chosen to hoard his wealth, his time, and his heart– and the result is that he will die alone, unmourned, a useless shell of rotting flesh. His fear and bitterness have brought no comfort to anyone, and have left the world a colder, icier, more horrible place.
But there is hope, even in this haunting experience. Scrooge wakes from this night and realizes that he is ALIVE! The Ghost has given him a great gift– the chance to live– the chance to experience connection and hope, joy and creativity, excitement and generosity.
What will this new year bring to US? Can we face an uncertain future with hope? Can we accept the gift of Life– even with its pain and struggle– as a priceless opportunity? Can we reach out to others, even knowing that we will sometimes be rejected, betrayed, and used? Can we strive to make things a little better– in our homes, our communities, our place of work, and in the wider world?
Scrooge did, and so can we! “A Christmas Carol” does not finish with a cold gravestone– even though we must know that Scrooge has to die one day. The story ends with music and light and gaiety, as Scrooge embraces the mystery of his own future and learns to live in hope and charity with those around him.
As we step into the future, may we also embrace the Life that God has given us, the joy of sharing time with others, and the expectation of good gifts that God will continue to give us in the future. As Tiny Tim says, “God bless us, everyone!”
My prayer is that you will experience excitement as we all take the next steps– God’s spirit will light the way; God’s word will be a lamp unto our feet (Psalm 119:105). God’s glorious gift of Christmas– the coming of Christ to be our Emmanuel, our example, and our Savior–will be the carol that we sing as we travel into the unknown!
I like to know things–I like to solve puzzles, figure out mysteries, learn trivial facts. I want answers. So when I go before God in prayer, I often ask questions. Why is this person suffering? When will their suffering end, and how? Where were you in this disaster (as though God had stepped out for a minute and wasn’t aware of what happened)?
God stays silent.
I can grow frustrated in the silence or I can learn to trust. That doesn’t mean that I no longer want answers; just that I am willing to wait on God’s sovereign timing. It also means that I am need to more about God’s nature–God doesn’t keep secrets or withhold knowledge because He wants to torment me, or frustrate me, or play some cosmic mind game (though some people accuse Him of doing just that). God withholds full disclosure of His plans, His reasoning, and His nature out of love and compassion. Suppose I could see into the future, even give out warnings, but had no power to stop disaster from coming. Not only would I be haunted by the disaster itself, but by the full knowledge of its coming. Suppose I could see a miracle in advance; know when and how it would unfold. There would still be joy, but it would be muted by the foreknowledge– of course there would be a happy ending; of course there would be a miracle– I saw it all from afar off.
The Apostle Paul touches on this in 1 Corinthians, chapter 13. This is commonly known as the “Love Chapter”, and the first half is frequently quoted at weddings and church sermons. But the end of the chapter is a wonderful message of hope and faith, ending with Paul’s triumphant statement about all three:
1 Corinthians 13:8-13English Standard Version (ESV)
8 Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part,10 but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.12 For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.
13 So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
God loves us with a perfect love. Because of that, I can trust Him, and have hope in the midst of my questioning. So when I pray with questions, I can know that God has “filed them away”– He is fully aware of my situation, questions and all, and He is fully faithful to answer them all in His perfect wisdom and timing. Someday, I will know– not only all that I don’t know now, but why I had to wait.
God will provide full disclosure. with compassion, love, and wisdom that only He can give.
What if– I say the wrong thing, and ruin someone’s day? Or perhaps I get lost and lose my way?
What if– I get bad news about my health Or suddenly lose all my worldly wealth?
What if– Friends turn to foes this week? What if I can’t find the peace that I seek?
But
What if– I take it to the Lord in prayer? Bring Him every question and care?
What if– God prevented that unseen wreck; Stopped me from falling and breaking my neck?
What if– God saw the looming temptation And removed me from the situation?
How many times had God stepped in And quietly saved me from the effects of Sin?
And when He hasn’t–do I really know If my life would be better if God never said, “No!”
What if– I trusted and always gave praise When God’s answers reveal His mysterious ways?
What if– I ask and seek and knock, Knowing my God is the Eternal Rock? Knowing that God hears, and cares, and sees Much more than I do when I’m down on my knees.
“..casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7 (ESV)
God always hears our prayers. He always has an answer. But it isn’t always the answer we expect. Sometimes, God answers, “No,” or “Not yet.” Sometimes, He answers in ways that seem confusing and mysterious, and even ironic.
I remember as a young teen praying for a woman in the community who had lymphoma. In treating her condition, the doctors, trying a new experimental treatment, did permanent damage to certain muscles, leading to a progressively debilitating condition. She died a slow and painful death, unrelated to her original condition. Where was God? How could He listen to our prayers and give such a cold, cruel answer?
But God sees a bigger picture than we do. This precious woman had incredible faith and grit. She had spent years working diligently to help others and teach God’s Word. She continued her work, even in the midst of her health struggles almost to the end of her life. What might have caused some people to turn their backs on God made her more dependent on His Grace. She faced her pain and weakness with grit, strength, and hope in God’s eternal healing. God’s answer wasn’t to rescue her from the suffering, but to be present in it with her. And her example lives on to this day.
Some people would read about this and be dismissive. What a cop-out! What a delusion! But there is much more to her story than her own condition or even her response. One of the men in our church really struggled with God’s seeming indifference. He wrestled with his own faith for many months while watching her get weaker and weaker. But through his struggle, he grew in his conviction that God was present in every situation. He was inspired to do short-term mission work, partly as a result of this growth. Knowing that God would be with him, he threw himself into loving people from a different culture–different climate, different language, different work ethic– and helped build churches and other facilities for those in need. Many people were helped, inspired, and encouraged because of his dependence on God– a dependence enhanced by facing his own questions and doubts.
Family members and community members, watching her struggles, were inspired to pick up where she left off– working and teaching and reaching out to others with zeal and joy–following her marvelous example. Today, some of her family members are leaders in their churches, raising the next generations of witnesses to God’s mercy and power. Doctors, having failed in her treatment, learned from it– a difficult lesson for all, but a lesson, nonetheless. Her joyful attitude (before and during her struggles) inspired me to direct the Vacation Bible School program at our church for a few years, and to teach Sunday School when I moved to a new location. And those are just a few of the ways I have “seen” God’s answers to our prayers. God did not give our friend the physical healing we wanted. But her struggles– and her response of faith and perseverance–inspired a ripple effect far beyond her own pain and disappointment. And she has received the ultimate healing! Her pain, intense and unjust as it was, was only temporary. Her life, her legacy, her joy– they all live on!
How often do we look at a situation and think we know what is “best?” How often do we feel that God’s answers are “wrong?” Wrong timing, wrong outcome, full of hardship or pain– how can this be God’s “perfect” will for us? There was nothing about this woman’s situation that was comfortable; no reason to see a good outcome for her or her immediate family. She died. She experienced pain, with no earthly justice. Her suffering was undeserved and unmitigated. She refused to sue the hospital or the doctors– she wanted them to be able to continue to learn from her experience so they could help others NOT to suffer in the future. But her life was shortened and made grueling in the process, and she received no payout, no financial compensation, no symbolic reparation for her sacrifice. We received no “miraculous” answer to our prayers. It seemed at the time that the more we prayed for healing, the worse her condition became. We continued to pray anyway, knowing that God DID hear us, and God’s ways were not our ways– they are always better. Even when His ways seem like silence.
This all happened several decades ago, and many of the “answers” from our urgent prayers are still hidden from our eyes. Many of our questions remain unanswered. But God’s will is still active, even in these tragic circumstances. Someday in Heaven, it may be revealed to us exactly how God used this woman’s life and struggles to bring about blessings to hundreds of other people– causing them to grow strong through her weakness, drawing them to His healing and wisdom in a world of pain and confusion.
I have lost many friends to cancer. I pray for each one, and the outcomes are never exactly the same. Some go into remission, only to have the cancer return three or four years later. Others get amazing healing– surgeons are astonished and perplexed by the rapid or miraculous disappearance of cancer cells. Some go into fast decline and die almost immediately after their diagnoses. And each situation impacts people in different ways, showing God’s power and presence for those who are willing to look for them. Prayer isn’t a magic formula for immediate and total healing. Prayer is lifting up a situation that is beyond our control or understanding and trusting that God has a perfect plan beyond what we can see or understand. Cancer cannot take God by surprise. Death cannot outwit or overpower God. We live in a world where Evil can overwhelm us; our bodies can betray us; our future can be lost in the fog of uncertainty and suffering. But God is present– not only IN our suffering, but ABOVE and BEYOND our suffering.
We don’t pray for our friends and loved ones to suffer. We want them to be healed, to be free of pain and grief; to be at ease and blessed with abundance. This is normal; it is good. God wants to bless us. It doesn’t bring Him joy to watch us suffer. But He also wants us to see the blessing of His presence, His wisdom, and His power. Sometimes, we can’t see that as we look around. Sometimes, we need to look up! Even from a hospital bed (see John, chapter 9). Even from the flames of suffering (see Daniel, chapter 3). Or from the belly of a whale (see Jonah, chapter 2). And we will find that God is there.
I’ve been asking myself “why?” a lot lately in regards to this blog. Why am I spending my time writing about prayer? Wouldn’t I be better served to spend my time productively– making something useful, keeping the apartment cleaner, going to the gym–even spending more time in prayer instead of dissecting it and babbling on to an invisible audience?
But the truth is that I began writing this blog in response to another question, a more basic question thrown at me (not personally, but thrown out to all who believe in the power of prayer)– “WHY?” They weren’t asking the question because they really wanted to know my reasons for praying; instead, they wanted to make me feel ashamed and embarrassed, to doubt God’s goodness and my faith. In fact, they weren’t asking “WHY” so much as asking “HOW”. How can you continue to believe in God and continue praying in light of random shootings, manifest injustices, rampant corruption, and senseless tragedies? How can you say that God is good, when people continue to get away with evil? If God exists, where is he, and how can you just sit back and trust in him?
The fact that I DO continue to trust God doesn’t mean I don’t have questions and concerns, and even righteous anger about the state of the world and the tragedies that fill it. The questions come pouring out, sometimes keeping me awake at night, sometimes catching me at a raw moment– and they are important questions. To pretend that I never wrestle or struggle with the questions is to say that good and evil, justice and mercy, that God himself– none of it really matters enough to seek an answer. God forbid!!
But there is a vast difference in asking “Why?” and challenging God by saying “How? or How come?”
Consider a small child who asks, “Why is the sky blue?” (Don’t you just love the inquisitiveness of small children?) “Well…” I can explain that the sky itself isn’t really blue…I can go on to talk about scientific principals– the property of light, refraction through water molecules and dust particles, and more..I can point out that the sky doesn’t always appear blue, etc. At the end of my long and factual discourse (assuming the child hasn’t already interrupted), s/he is likely to simply shake their head and ask, “But, why?” WHY? Because I haven’t really answered the heart of the question. I explained HOW, not WHY.
Now suppose I don’t feel like being pedantic, and I simply answer “Because.” You can guess what comes next. The child will ask, “Because WHY?” Because “Because” isn’t a sufficiently satisfactory answer. The child wants more; he/she yearns for more comprehension; more understanding.
As an adult, we find this kind of questioning frustrating and annoying. I think it is because we have been conditioned to think that questions either have a “How come” explanation that sweeps away much of the wonder and mystery, or a “because” answer that leaves us unsatisfied. We are frustrated by questions to which we already have a pat answer, and we are frustrated by questions to which we have never received a satisfactory answer.
As an adult, I may well ask, “Why is there evil in the world?” This is an important question; one I should be asking. Experts can and will give me all kinds of “how” answers– how the brain is wired, how emotions work, how society has failed various groups of people, how political structures create oppression, how religion teaches intolerance, how poor diet or lack of sunny days … there are a million explanation of “how” evil exists or why it persists. And many of these explanations contradict each other, so they can’t even give a conclusive answer. But just throwing up my hands, and saying, “just because” does nothing to answer my question OR provide understanding that could help alleviate the effects of evil in the world. “Because” communicates my powerlessness to comprehend.
BUT
Something amazing happens when I stop merely asking people for answers to these questions and start asking God. I don’t get a magical, comprehensive, incontrovertible answer to life’s thorny questions. God doesn’t send me a “cheat sheet” with all the “right” answers. I’m not suddenly an expert on good and evil or what should be done to eliminate crime and disease and poverty. I still have to wade through the “how come” explanations and use my limited judgment to decide what course of action I can take to try to make a positive difference. And I will make some mistakes along the way. But when GOD says, “Because”, there is an authority, a majesty, and a wisdom that can never be present in my answer. I say “because,” because I have no more to say; no better answer. God says, “Because,” because HE IS the answer! And the cause! And he gives explanations in his word for many of my questions– even if I don’t like the answers! He doesn’t explain “how come” the sky is blue–even though science can tell me the “how come.” God doesn’t have to explain the blue sky –He causes it to be blue. “Why is the sky blue?” God makes it so. “But why?” Because He is God and I am not. God explains “how come” there is evil in the world– it’s called SIN–but he doesn’t leave it there. “Why?” Because we have the free will to choose good or evil. “Why?” Because God wants willing obedience and loving companionship with us. “Why?” Because God is love! “So why does he allow evil to continue?” Because he has a plan that involves redemption and restoration and renewal. He is the cause of this plan, he is its author and finisher. Moreover, he is the cause of my desire to ask “why?”, to seek for a more fulfilling answer, to yearn for a solution to the very evil that prompts my questions.
I won’t stop asking “why.” Not because I don’t have any answer, or because I don’t know the answer. It’s just that the answer is so much bigger, so much better, so much MORE than I can handle in the shortness of this lifetime. And it’s important that I not only keep asking the question, but that I keep defending the answer. Because perhaps today, or tomorrow, or every day next week, someone may ask me WHY?
1 Peter 3:14-16English Standard Version (ESV)
14 But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled,15 but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect,16 having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame.
Pursuing Prayer 