“For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me my petition that I made to him. Therefore I have lent him to the Lord. As long as he lives, he is lent to the Lord.” [1 Samuel 1:27-28 (ESV)]
Richard Williams was watching TV when he saw a tennis player awarded a $40,000 check for winning a tournament. He decided then that his as yet unborn children would become tennis stars. Williams wrote a 78-page plan detailing their future, taught himself how to play tennis and, when his girls were four, started teaching them to play the game. Before they were even born, he’d planned the future for tennis greats Serena and Venus Williams.
Hannah did much the same thing for her child Samuel. Heartbroken at her inability to get pregnant, she promised God that, if He gave her a son, she would give him back to God as a Nazirite. Although the Nazirite vow was to be voluntary and temporary, Hannah committed her as yet unconceived child to a lifetime of separating himself from the world, dedicating himself to the Lord, and never cutting his hair, consuming wine (or any grape product), or getting near a dead body. After giving birth to Samuel, she fulfilled her vow; once he was weaned, she brought him to Shiloh and left him in the care of Eli the priest.
Can you imagine the youngster’s tears as he watched his parents leave? Every year, when his family returned to Shiloh for worship and sacrifice, Hannah brought a new coat for the boy and, every year, Samuel remained in Shiloh while his family went back home with the five siblings that arrived after his birth. Instead of playing whatever little boys played in 1100 BC, Samuel remained as an apprentice to an old priest in the temple. Can you imagine his loneliness and grief? Nevertheless, this is the life Hannah decided he should have.
Perhaps, however, it wasn’t Hannah but rather God who wrote the plan for Samuel. Hannah had no children because “the Lord had closed her womb.” Could He have been waiting to open her womb until she became desperate enough to make such an amazing sacrificial vow?
The priest Eli had two grown sons, Hophni and Phinehas. In spite of being priests, they were wicked worthless men who cheated, seduced women, stole from the people, and were unworthy to carry on Eli’s priestly duties. Could God have arranged circumstances so that someone worthy of the task could grow in godliness while apprenticing to Eli? When Eli and his sons died, it was Samuel who became the priest, prayer warrior, first of the prophets, and last (and most effective) of Israel’s judges. It was Samuel who anointed both Saul and David. It was Samuel, the child given to God before his conception, who was listed by Paul in the Hall of Faith.
At first glance, Hannah seemed a bit like Richard Williams (and a host of stage moms and sport dads) who decide their children’s dreams for them. Looking closer, we see that God mapped out a scenario even more elaborate than Richard William’s 78-page plan. I’m sure it didn’t make much sense to Hannah when she made the vow that took her son from his family and it certainly didn’t make sense to the young Samuel when he watched them wave farewell. In retrospect, however, it makes all the sense in God’s world; He has a way of making sense of it all!
Take only what I’ve got on my back and the one pair of sandals on my feet? You’ve got to be kidding! Obviously, Jesus hasn’t looked in my suitcase! We’re taking the grands through the Tetons and Yellowstone and I need hikers, sneakers, and Tevas along with my sandals! In addition, I need my backpack, water bottles, hiking poles, shorts, hiking pants, jeans, tops, swim suit, jacket, fleece, cap, undies, toiletries, and assorted other essentials (like phone and iPad). While attempting to cram everything I want into my bags, I pondered this verse: take nothing. At least we have hotel reservations for our entire journey; the disciples didn’t even have that. They were expected to depend on the good will and hospitality of the towns they visited.
My child, pay attention to what I say. … Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life. … Look straight ahead, and fix your eyes on what lies before you. Mark out a straight path for your feet; stay on the safe path. Don’t get sidetracked; keep your feet from following evil. [Proverbs 4:20a,23, 25-27 (NLT)]
Many years ago, we did some major remodeling on our lake house. The original structure was gutted: carpets ripped up, paneling pulled off, decks knocked down, stairs demolished, walls cut open, and our landscaping ruined. Filled with fear and misgivings, I stared at the gaping hole in the hillside and what was left of the original dwelling. The architect/builder kept reassuring me that, having drawn the plans, he knew how everything would eventually fit together. Me? I just saw the ruined house, a deep pit and piles of dirt. I hadn’t expected this devastation; it had seemed so simple on paper. How this mess was ever going to become the house we’d pictured, I didn’t know. I simply had to trust the builder and leave it in his hands. Seven months later, I stood in the same spot, thrilled with the final result; it was better than I’d ever expected!
While talking with a friend, I mentioned how many people of our generation seem unprepared for the challenges of widowhood. Having relinquished certain responsibilities to their spouses during the decades of marriage, they’re ill-equipped when they lose that spouse. There are men who have no idea how to do laundry, grocery shop, clean the bathroom or use the microwave. On the other hand, many of my women friends have never done minor repairs, paid bills, made an investment or purchased a car. “That was me!” replied my friend whose husband died of cancer. His death, while unwelcome, was not unexpected so I asked why they hadn’t prepared her for widowhood. “He tried to,” she said, “but I wouldn’t listen.” As long as they didn’t talk about his imminent passing and her future life without him, she still could deny its reality.
Devotions of the Heart 