She was crushed; her emotions spent. Oh, she knew her husband loved her dearly. He said what he could to comfort her. But her heart was broken. Her empty, childless arms ached — a bitter pill all but impossible to stand up under.  

Her rival’s cruel insults hurt; hateful taunts sinking deep into her soul. Lashing out in reply would have been the easy way. But had she uttered those unkind words they would have hung suspended, casting an even gloomier shadow over the entire household. How would that have added to an already painful situation?

This is the story of Hannah. Truth be told, it could be any one of our stories: a bitter pill. An agonizing ache under which to stand. We all have them. In comparison some might be of greater, or even lesser, consequence. But when it is our heartache, it never feels small.

Hannah’s husband was Elkanah, a Levite of the family of Kohath, the most honorable of that tribe. This was at a time when the Israelite nation was in decay; and although he was a godly man, Elkanah too had compromised. In disobedience to God he married a second wife, Peninnah, who could give him children when Hannah could not.

Service to God was also remiss, “when every man did that which was right in the sight of his own eyes.” Still Elkanah goes every year to the solemn feasts at Shiloh with his family — Elkanah, Peninnah with all her children … and Hannah.

The feasts were meant as a time of sacrifice, and a time of worship and prayers and thanksgiving to the Lord of hosts. And they were. They were also a time when Peninnah threw fresh salt on an open wound, provoking Hannah with new abuse, mocking her childlessness.

This went on year after year. Long enough, in fact, for Peninnah to have “sons and daughters.”

This time Hannah had all she could stands, she could stands no more: Overwhelmed with grief and unable to eat, Hannah stood up.

Once when they had finished eating and drinking in Shiloh, Hannah stood up. 1 Samuel 1:9

Hannah may have been childless, but she was not prayerless. Instead of dampening the joy of the celebration for everyone else, Hannah went straight away to the One who alone could help her: The Sovereign God.

And what a prayer she prayed. With lips moving, yet no sound, words tumbled from her heart just as tears fell from her eyes.

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. 1 Samuel 1:11

After it was said, in faith she left it with Him — believing that either He would grant her request or make it right in some way.

Then she went her way and ate something, and her face was no longer downcast. 1 Samuel 1:18

In the course of time, Hannah did become pregnant and she had a child. She was given the very thing she desired — a son. When the child turned three years old, Hannah brought him to the house of the Lord at Shiloh, just as she pledged.

She named him Samuel, saying, “Because I asked the Lord for him.” 1 Samuel 1:20

What a beautiful example of pain producing character that blesses the world! Hannah’s heartache was real. She was in a dire, troublesome circumstance. A circumstance that could so easily have turned her bitter, like acid eating her inside.

Matthew Henry wrote “Prayer is heart’s-ease to a gracious soul … Prayer will smooth the countenance.” What an incredible joy knowing our God Almighty, El Shaddai, never forgets His people. He hears our prayers still to this day. What an amazing privilege to have access before His mighty throne!

As for the child Samuel, he grew up to serve the Lord all his days. (1 Samuel 2:18-21)

There is no one holy like the Lord;
there is no one besides you;
there is no Rock like our God. 1 Samuel 2:2