The pastor and I don’t have kids yet, but we have an unbelievably precious niece and eight unbelievably precious nephews. As the aunt and uncle, we have the responsibility and privilege of doting over them until they are tired of all the attention. The pastor and I take our jobs very seriously.
This is my brother Odie and my nephew KP. Odie gets it too. Being an uncle is all fun and games.
All ages are precious, but there is something about 3 year olds that cuts me to the core. I melt. Maybe it’s the way they stick their tongue out when they color. It’s so weird. They are so unaware.
They get excited about the mail and hang out in their underwear reading a book and then panic when they realize the family is ready to go and they don’t want to be left behind. They have a success rate of 0% when it comes to getting the shoes on the right feet even though the odds are 50/50.
Brady is three. He loves Christmas lights and is very clear that his preference is LED. Photo credit Capri Artistry Photography
KP is also three. His shoes are on the wrong feet 100% of the time even though his parents are brilliant.
We love these boys so much. When I’m with them I want to hold them forever and for always, except they’ll have none of it. Like every three-year-old boy, they have places to go and legos to build and their mom to see.
Brady was the first nephew on the Ohio side of the family. Photo credit Capri Artistry Photography
Pastor husband and I live states away from any family, so when it comes time to say goodbye after a visit, our hearts break a little. We know the next time we see them they will be so much bigger.
I grew up knowing the story of Hannah and Samuel, and Church-goer maybe you did too. Hannah wanted a baby. She prayed and God gave her Samuel, so Hannah gave Samuel back to God.
KP loved this day. He wasn’t allowed to go in the ocean, but by the time we left he was sopping and I think he’d also rolled in the sand. And I carried him to the car because I knew it was an opportunity I’d never get again.
But I read it again recently, not as a story, but as a historical account, which it is. Do you do this?
“I’m not gonna eat that thing. It looks like an octopus.” It wasn’t. It was just a potato starting to sprout. Photo credit Capri Artistry Photography
And I saw it differently this time. This is what truly happened to Hannah.
If KP is trying to get your attention, he will climb up on your lap and put your face in his hands and point your face to his.
Hannah wants a son. Her husband’s other wife (tell me about it) has all these sons and daughters and taunts Hannah for not having a child of her own. I think the other wife is acting out of jealousy because this shared husband loves Hannah the most. Women can be so mean when they’re jealous.
Hannah’s husband tries to console her and asks her if he means more than ten sons. He asks the question we all ask sometimes. “Aren’t I enough?”
No, Elkanah, you aren’t. Ask any woman in any culture. Nothing in this world can be a stand-in for her very own child.
Here I would have given him the side eye. I would have played the victim. There would have been some yelling, or even worse, the “scream-whisper.”
Eventually, Hannah loses it and her grief cripples her. So in the bitterness of her soul she wept and prayed to God for a child.
1 Samuel 1:10 In her deep anguish Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly.
In her desperation, Hannah went to He who provides. But this post isn’t about prayer.
This is Caleb. I think his hair looks like Donal Trump’s. He loves his mom and dad and Peppa Pig. The last time I prayed and wept bitterly, my sister in law and matron of honor was going into labor too many weeks too early. She delivered my nephew and he took an incubated ambulance ride to Rady Children’s Hospital in San Diego. I wept bitterly for my brother and sister in law, and I wept for myself and for the opportunity to hold him.
11 And she made a vow, saying, “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.
Verses 12 and 13 show us a woman who keeps praying and prays with her heart. She prays out of her anguish and grief. And she did what we do so often. “Lord, if you give me this/cure me/bring me a, I promise I will…”
And God hears her. And He gives her Samuel. And she gives Samuel back to God.
She kept her promise, and maybe God knew her track record and that she could be trusted, and so maybe that’s why He agreed to her terms. Maybe it was His plan all along to allow her to get to a place of desperation so she could turn to Him in her hopelessness. I don’t know because I’m not God.
And I never saw what a big deal this was until I pictured my nephews. This is crazy to me. See, Hannah didn’t give him up right when he was born because he depended on his mom to feed him. Eli the priest wasn’t about to breast feed him. No sir. My Bible notes say that she would have nursed him until he was about three.
That means she had at least three years of memories,
Brady loves the Seminoles just like his dad, and Brady notices what adults don’t. He recently complemented his dad’s new rims and said, “hey daddy, you got new wheels!” Photo credit Capri Artistry Photography
Three years of love.
I asked KP what his favorite part about preschool was. His reply: “Screaming!” Bless all the teachers.
Three precious years of getting attached.
Brady calls his little brother Brooks his “Brooksie Bubbas.” He gives him constant hugs and kisses. Photo credit Capri Artistry Photography
She watched him roll over and take his first steps and she heard him say his first words.
And she gave him away because she knew where he came from.
And still, I never saw what a big deal this was until I pictured my nephews.
You can imagine the heart break if a three year old has stolen your heart, too.
But she did it joyfully. And then she prayed. Not to ask for anything else, but to thank God for who He is.
All of Hannah’s prayer is beautiful. I love verses two and three because she said these words after she left Samuel with Eli the priest.
“There is no one holy like the Lord, there is no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God. Do not keep talking so proudly or let your mouth speak such arrogance, for the Lord is a God who knows, and by him deeds are weighed.”
Don’t arrogantly think you brought your blessings on yourself, she says. Know where they came from.
Her heart could have broken and her grief should have paralyzed her. Where is her bitterness?
Now us? We’re like Gollum with the ring. It’s mine. Don’t take it from me. I chased it and worked for it and I got it and it’s mine.
How many times have we prayed for a new job or a raise and said, “God, if I get this I promise to tithe my ten percent (by the way God, is that before or after taxes?) and then the job comes and we quickly forget about our promise.
May we always remember where blessings come from and why we are blessed. God blesses us not for our sake, but for His. He blesses us to reveal Himself to us.
To Hannah, He revealed that He is the God who provides.
A blessing is not about us feeling good or getting more. God blesses us so that we can know Him better. Friends, this life is too short to believe the lie that our blessings are about us alone. Blessings are to reveal the glory of God.
May I never forget where all my good and perfect gifts come from.
And I’m wrapping it up there though there are things unfinished. “But she gave up her son! How can you say she’s blessed?!” I know what you may be thinking. Life and jazz music and child loss don’t always or ever resolve. But come back because there are bigger things to come with our girl Hannah.
Come back and join me; you have a seat here. This is what’s being served up over the next two weeks at The Table:
-The Robe: when Hannah’s name probably came up in whispers at the playground. *awkwaaaaard* Hannah’s story.
-The Voice: when you’ve grown up in the pews but this whole religion thing still is not real to you: Samuel’s story
-The Legacy: from dust we came and from dust we go, but there’s so much more than that in this one fiery life: Our Story
-The Hannahs in My Midst: My Story