Often, we mistake our anger or someone’s anger at God for a lapse in faith or a lack of faith. I’d argue that taking our big feelings, even our anger at God, is an indicator that we’re fighting for faith, even when it looks messy.

 

Today, we’re visiting a familiar story of a woman who came to God with her anger because an important prayer hadn’t been answered. She didn’t hold back, and when she took her anger to God, it was a pivotal moment that allowed her to trade bitter for better.

 

An Old Testament woman named Hannah is one of my Bible heroes. She had the guts to be openly angry with God, and her honest prayers were part of her healing. Her story is recorded in 1 Samuel 1-2. (Spoiler alert: Hannah receives the answer to her prayer, but God was at work doing something bigger than answering her prayer.)

 

For years, Hannah prayed for a child. Making matters worse, she was bullied by the other wife in her husband’s household named Peninnah. Hannah’s husband was named Elkanah, and even he did not truly see his wife’s pain. Hannah was so miserable that the childless woman couldn’t eat, likely a sign of depression or grief.

 

Perhaps you can relate to Hannah. When we’re longing for the person or thing that’s missing, the emotional pain feels just as real as physical pain, like a broken bone. There’s a proverb that says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick,” meaning that when we don’t receive what we want, it can feel like heartbreak in our bodies (Proverbs 13:12 NLT).

 

What I admire about Hannah is how she handled her despair. In 1 Samuel 1, their family took the annual trip to the temple. This is what Hannah did next:

 

What do you think Hannah cried as she prayed? Can you picture what “deep anguish, crying bitterly” would look like? Using the word bitterly means anger, even fury. When I picture this in my mind, I imagine Hannah saying things that we might say to God:

 

 

There’s a phrase for this type of anger toward God: we call it lament. It’s where we take our anger to God rather pretending that it doesn't hurt or turning our backs on God. I like Josh Larsen’s description of lament, which sounds a lot like surrender: “Lament isn't giving up, it's giving over. When we lift up our sorrow and our pain, we turn it over to the only one who can meet it: our God.”

 

 

 

I don’t want to overstep the text, but I imagine that Hannah didn’t feel like going to the tabernacle to pray. Was she going through the motions? Maybe. But I think going through the motions made a huge difference on that day.  Sometimes, our anger causes us to turn away from God or church because He hasn’t answered our prayers or we don’t feel cared for during our waiting seasons. Yet if we bury our disappointment without bringing it to God, lies will creep in, and we will begin to believe that God doesn’t care. (Does that hit home? If so, check out last week's Happy Monday here.)

 

In hard waiting seasons, keep going through the motions. You want to know why? When we keep showing up, even if we’re only going through the motions, waiting seasons strip away our good Christian masks and attempts to control. We eventually reach the place where it’s just us and God - nothing else. This is where our blessing is found!

 

Let me say this: Some of us are so focused on looking like a good Christian that we miss out on being real honest with God. All those disappointments you’re hiding behind a Sunday smile are keeping you from experiencing true joy and peace. God can’t heal you if you’re intent on holding onto your image or you’re too worried about what other people think. Can I get an amen?

 

The second half of Hannah’s prayer focuses on God’s power, which shifted her perspective on her situation. In fact, after Hannah prays, we read that she leaves God’s presence and can eat again, something she hadn’t been able to do earlier.

 

 

Hannah’s circumstances hadn’t changed, but she chose God’s presence, and that experience changed her.

 

As we reflect on Hannah’s story, here’s how we can sum it up:

 

 

 

 

 

I still dare to hope when I remember this: Your faithful love never ends, God. Your mercies never cease. Thank you for being faithful, so faithful. I’m grateful that Your mercy begins each day again. Help me hold onto you through the ache and pain. Amen.