"Then the woman went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad."
1 Samuel 1:18
Maybe you've had a phone call like this. You call your sister, or an old friend who's known you forever, and you plan to keep it light.
The weather. The grandkids. Who's had what surgery.
Then somewhere in the middle you hear yourself say it. The thing you haven't told anybody since the funeral.
"Honestly, I'm not doing very well."
Nothing gets fixed on that call. But when you hang up, you feel lighter.
I wonder if that's exactly what happened to Hannah.
In 1 Samuel 1, Hannah longed for a child and couldn't have one. Every year her family went up to worship, and every year someone in her own house made sure she felt the ache. She cried and couldn't eat.
Then one year she poured it all out before the Lord. She prayed so hard her lips moved but no sound came. The priest thought she was drunk.
Eli blessed her and sent her home. And then comes this little line I love: "Then the woman went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad."
Look at the timing.
She wasn't pregnant yet.
Nothing at home had changed.
The answer was still months away.
But her face changed anyway.
What changed wasn't her situation. What changed was that she wasn't carrying it alone anymore.
Maybe you know that kind of carrying. The empty side of the bed. The decisions you make alone now. The prayers you've stopped saying out loud because they hurt too much.
Here's the grace in Hannah's story. She didn't earn God's attention with a beautiful prayer. Hers was so messy a priest thought she'd been drinking. God listened because He is the kind of God who listens to troubled people. Jesus showed us that. Tired, honest, hurting people came close to Him, and He never once sent them away for not having it together.
Your grief isn't too much for Him.
Not your tears.
Not your questions.
Not even your silence.
Try today
Find one quiet minute. Tell God the one thing you've been carrying since he died that you haven't said out loud. Just one sentence, like "Lord, I'm so tired of being strong." Then go make yourself something to eat. You don't have to wait for an answer to set the weight down.
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer.
Joseph Scriven, 1855
Think about that phone call, and how much lighter you felt when you hung up.
Hannah found a Friend like that.
So can you. He's still listening.
Blessings, Pastor Howard
Know a widow who needs this today?
Sometimes the kindest thing is a quiet "I thought of you."
Who is the person you can finally be honest with?
A sister, a friend, a neighbor down the street, or maybe just the Lord at the kitchen table. Tell me in the comments below. I read every comment, and your words might help another widow feel less alone.