

Hannah was a mess. She was so sad she wouldn't eat. She couldn't stop crying. What do you do when you're in a place of such pain and anguish and sorrow? Michael Card in his book, A Sacred Sorrow tells what we're taught at an early age in North America. "As we began to try to understand the shape of the world into which we were born, we would all soon experience the 'shushing' of parents whenever we would inevitably erupt into the wailing of our first infant laments. Contained somewhere in the heart of these demands to 'be quiet,' beneath the sincere attempts of comforting, lay a level of shame and the inescapable message that we should not cry out, we should not behave in such ways; that wanting the comfort and presence [of God] and the assurance of hesed were really somehow selfish [hesed is that almost untranslatable Hebrew word usually translated something like 'loving-kindness']. At that frustrating moment we entered into the very human, fallen aspect of denial, which is the polar opposite of lament. As a result we grew up trying to control our tears and trying to help others control theirs, thinking in the midst of it all sometimes that we might even be able to control the pain" (p. 20, bracketed parts added)
Hannah will not be shushed. She will express her pain, her deeply troubled spirit, her agonizing complaints. She will pour them out to the LORD as an act of worship, bringing it all to him. She knows where to bring her sorrow. She knows the power there is in lament, something we have lost in North America.
J. Oswald Sanders writes: "This is surely a challenging and revolutionary thought God will not use us in spite of our weakness and inadequacy but actually because of them." I do not believe that tears are a sign of weakness, but many do believe it is so. They surely are a sign that things have gone wrong, and to bring our pain to God as an act of worship is to bring it to One who is more than able, not only to handle our emotional outbursts, but also to give us a sense of peace in the end. Walter Brueggemann observes it regarding Hannah: "In a daring move, back behind the 'great men,' (Samuel, Saul, David) the narrative locates the origin of Israel's future and the source of its 'great leaders' in the story of a bereft, barren woman named Hannah" (commentary on First and Second Samuel). Psalm 10:1, "Why, O LORD, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?" Such it seems sometimes. God must be off on a holiday, and is not available for comment! He's not even interested in our plight! The challenge here is to bring it to God regardless, in spite of our sorrow, despite our pain.
Pastor Walt Vanderwerf