A frail woman knelt low before the altar. Her heart raw and bleeding from the agony of emptiness. To hold a baby in her arms was her only plea. Eyes tender from weeping, arms raised to our Lord, she cries out. She pours her very soul over HIM. Food would not fill her. Comfort she wanted not. Her lips pleaded only for a child.
In deep anguish, Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly.
1 Samuel 1:10
When pain and suffering seeks to define me, I am held in my weeping before the Lord. I call it the Hannah prayer. I don’t have an altar in my home, I use the floor. Face in the carpet, weeping until HE speaks. From Hannah, I know that God hears the bitter cry of my soul. He holds my tears in his hands. (Psalm 56:8) From Hannah, I see that my prayers might look funny even to a priest, but never to my Father. From Hannah, I know that I can hold God to his promises. He still answers every prayer. (Jer. 31:3)
In faith, I lay it all at HIS feet. I trust HIS promises over my life and family. But the words don’t come easy. I remember HIS word, “in the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what to pray, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” Rom 8:26 I let HIM intercede and lay in the quiet of HIS embrace.
When I do find words, they are HIS words. Praying scripture binds his truth into my heart. The words seep into my soul and change me. Despair cannot define me. Hopelessness will not consume me, for I am HIS daughter.
Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know. Jeremiah 31:3
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