I can’t imagine being Hannah in the Old Testament and giving my first-born and only son away to God. I mean, really giving. Not just standing at the altar one Sunday while the pastor prays and agreeing that we will “raise this child in the nurture and the admonition of the Lord.”
She actually took the boy by the hand (He may have been as much as four years old) and walked him down the rocky hills from Ramah all the way to the Tent of Meeting in Shiloh. And then she left him there. With Eli. And his corrupt, despicable, none-too-priestly sons.
I have given our children back to God sometimes in ways that felt almost that real. Releasing them to dreams that would take them far away. Watching while they walked through fires I could not quench. Believing for His best even when death was on the line.
Sometimes, as a mother, there is nothing left to do but make our child a little coat each year to demonstrate our love. The rest we have to leave with God.
And, God always comes through.
Samuel grew up to become a great prophet in the land. He anointed the future King David and set the country on a path for peace. Hannah went on to have other children, and the family celebrated with Samuel every year.
And, then, God plopped this little dollop of mercy on top of the whole lovely thing. The Bible says when Samuel became a great man of God, influencing an entire nation, he made his home in Ramah — the city where his mother lived.
I’m not expecting God to bring our distant children back to Missouri. They are doing perfectly fine right where they are. And, I’m not even expecting him to shield our family from any more trials by fire. Those are sure to come.
I am expecting Him to walk with us through the trouble, though. To heal us when we’re broken, to find us when we’re lost, and to lead us all together to a City someday where no one will ever have to say good-bye. Not ever.
Your writing is such a comfort to me Kathy.
When the kids told us “his name is Samuel”, I immediatly thought of Samuel, and the Godly man he was. I was relieved that is in the midst of all this “fire”, God is ruling and reigning in the small things like something as simple as a name, and the meaning it implys, the origin of it, and the hope it can carry.
The whole idea of us all being together again is something that has kept me going all my life since my Dad died when I was 7, I’ve been looking forward to that time ever since. You have such a beatiful way of putting it down in words. I don’t know if there is anyone out there smart enough to “publish” your novel, but I am anxious to read whatever you write and am wishing we didn’t have to wait till “publishing time” 🙂
Thanks, Andrea! I didn’t hear your precious news until after I’d written this. Thanks so much for your encouragement and for keeping the faith all these years.
What beautiful boys in that window!
This makes me cry, Kathy! I always secretly fear those prayers about my children, because if I “give them to God”, He might really ask for them one day, right?! That’s the worst trick in the book, I think: that we’re given these babies we fall in love with and can’t live without, all the while knowing that the point is to prepare them to not need us anymore and give them away. But then along comes this post, and somehow reading your words makes me feel like I might be able to face that day when it comes, with hope rather than begrudgingly. I’m so glad I have women like you to help shape me as I walk through life. Watching (or reading about) how you navigate the waters ahead of me is both inspiring and comforting. You’ve been a shaping voice in my life for fifteen years now, and I’m so grateful for you. I love you, Kathy!
Dear Sweet Ruth,
You will be ready when the time comes. Although I miss our long-distance children, I don’t yearn for them in a painful way. I’m blessed to see them so happy.
And I love you, too. I’m so proud of the woman/wife/mother/worshiper you have become. You have great days ahead!
Kathy,
You have written such a profound truth in such a touching way. Thank you!
You are one of my role models for the Hannah-spirit, Cheri.
What beautiful boys in that window!