Sorrow, Suffering, Unanswered Prayer and the Sovereignty of God, (1 Samuel 1)

Have you ever wanted something from God so bad that you prayed and prayed, hoping he would answer you? Have you ever poured out your soul before him in prayer, only to have silence as your answer? Have you ever had your heart broken with an unanswered prayer and wondered what the point was of continuing to trust the Lord and seek his face?

Many of us, (unless you’re one of those Super Christians that never have any problems, are always healthy, and never have any doubts), have faced such despair, doubt, and unanswered prayer. I wanted to look today at one such person who faced the bitter disappointment of unanswered prayer, how she persevered, and how God responded. If you are a Super Christian, (mentioned above), please feel free to skip this blog as totally meaningless to your life.

There was a man named Elkanah who had two wives, Peninnah and Hannah. (Why a man would ever want two wives is beyond me. Apparenlty Elkanah had never watched the Bachelor before). Peninnah had children, but Hannah was barren. It’s important to note that the author says Hannah had no children because the Lord had closed her womb, (v5). In those days women were very low members of society. Their purpose was mainly to have sons to take care of the family and themselves in their old age. They did not have high positions in society. They were defined by their ability to have children. In those days there was no artificial insemination, adopting kids from New Zealand, or surrogate pregnancies, etc. So Hannah’s situation is dire.

To make matters worse, Peninnah, Elkanah’s other wife, would provoke Hannah because she had no children and the Lord had closed her womb. Living with another woman who was able to have children would be awful. But to live with this woman and have her taunt and shame you would be unbearable. Can you imagine such humiliation? And we cannot gloss over verse 7 which says that this torment continued year after year. Hannah suffered her humiliation and shame for years. We don’t know how long, but it was at least several years of such heartache.

Obvious questions arise as we consider Hannah’s situation. Why did the Lord allow this to go on for so long? If he was the one responsible, (“the Lord closed her womb”, v6), then why didn’t he fix it. Why did he allow it in the first place? What were his reasons? How did Hannah cope with such disappointment and shame? And why didn’t Elkanah, her husband, step in between the two women and protect Hannah?

I’ll attempt to give some perspective on these questions at the end. But first things get worse. Speaking of Elkanah…

Verse 8, “And Elkanah, her husband, said to her, "Hannah, why do you weep? And why do you not eat? And why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?"

This is a lesson to all men of what not to do. Rather than comforting his wife, he tries to explain to her why she shouldn’t be upset. His logic, “He baby, who needs to be able to have children when you‘ve got a catch like me?” He should have just not said anything at all. If you’re a man and you’re reading this here’s the lesson: when your loved one is upset, don’t try to explain why they shouldn’t be upset and certainly don’t point to yourself as the solution to the problem. We as men are more often than not dumb, clueless, and insensitive. We have our bright spots, but they’re certainly not enough to overcome the devastating moments of life.

So Hannah and the family would go yearly to offer sacrifices to the Lord at the temple. While she was there, Hannah was pouring out her soul to the Lord, weeping bitterly, as the text says. She is praying silently, but her mount was moving. Now the priest at the time, seeing this, thought she was drunk and rebukes her for drunkenness. This is not totally unreasonable for a couple of reasons. (1) The spiritual climate of the country at that time was pretty bad. (2) There may have been feasting and celebrating associated with the sacrifices. Either way, it’s another blow to this poor woman who was just trying to cry out to God in her distress.

Hannah explains to Eli that she wasn’t drunk, but that she was just pouring out her soul to God for her pain. Eli tells her to go in peace, “and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to him." Hannah goes home and the Lord enables her to conceive. Hannah names her child Samuel, which sounds like the Hebrew word for “heard of God.”

There’s a lot here to consider, but I wanted to come back to some of those questions we listed earlier. We can clearly see that God was in control of all that happened. He closed Hannah’s womb and he allowed her to conceive. He allowed Hannah to suffer like she did for “years and years.” So why? Why did God allow such pain and heartache? Why did he allow such injustice and harsh treatment from Peninnah, the other wife? Why didn’t he answer sooner?

The truth of the matter is we can ask “why” all we want to when we are hurting and suffering, but it won’t help us. We may get an answer this side of heaven and we may not. What we can see is that God did not forsake Hannah. He was with her and answered her prayers in his own time. We will not always know the timing and reasons of God for the pain we experience. What we can know is that we are not forsaken by the Lord in our pain and we are not alone. God is in control. We are not left to the whims of chance. When we pray and it is not answered, when there is only silence, and when our despair grows, we must remember (1) to keep praying and trusting and (2) to know that God is in control and we are not forsaken by Him.

The rest of the story, as Paul Harvey would say, is that Hannah was exalted as a woman of great faith in chapter 2 where we see an extraordinarily long prayer/praise from her about God’s salvation. The fact that the author and God included such a passage from a woman, (cultural context), shows how highly valued Hannah was in the eyes of God.

“There’s a statue of Jesus, in a monastery knoll,
In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold.
And he’s kneeling in the garden, as silent as a stone,
And all his friends are sleeping, and he’s weeping all alone.
And the man of all sorrows, never forgot, what sorrow is carried, by the hearts that he bought.
So when the questions dissolve, into the silence of God,
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not…” From the song Silence of God, by Andrew Peterson