Pray

So we're introduced here to this man. We're told where he lives. We learn later in the scriptures, 1 Chronicles chapter 6, that he's actually a Levite that has settled in the hill country of Ephraim, which in the Book of Joshua is exactly where many of the Levites were located after the conquest. So here's this man, an ordinary Israelite man, a Levite, dwelling in the hill country.

2 He had two wives. The name of the one was Hannah, and the name of the other, Peninnah. And Peninnah had children, but Hannah had no children.

This is what we learn about him: "He had two wives." We'll talk a little bit more about that. "The name of one was Hannah"—Hannah is a great name, it means grace or favor, beautiful name—"and the other Peninnah." Peninnah means pearl or object of great beauty. "Peninnah had children, but Hannah had no children."

Right out of the gate in this storyline, we're introduced to this man and his family, and here is this problem: Hannah is barren, unable to conceive. Now this is not something new or out of left field as we've been walking through the storyline of scripture. If you remember, three of the great matriarchs in the Book of Genesis—starting with Sarah, then Rebecca, then Rachel—all three of these women experienced difficulty conceiving and barrenness. I mean, Sarah didn't get to conceive until she was supposed to be in the geriatric ward.

This theme, this thread that gets woven through the storyline of barrenness, just keeps coming over and over again. Most recently as we walked through the Book of Judges, the very last judge in the Book of Judges was Samson. His mother was barren. God had to intervene.

There's this theme over and over again. So why is barrenness such a prevalent theme? Why does this keep showing up? Why does the book of Samuel begin with this as its problem that has to be dealt with?

The answer is in Genesis. The answer is in who God has made us to be. The answer is in creation. We are made by God for God as His imagers. We were made for a purpose. That purpose is announced in Genesis 1:26-28:

"God blessed them. God made them in His image, male and female He made them. And God blessed them and said, 'Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it.'"

In order to be fruitful and multiply, in order to fill the earth and subdue it, reproduction has to take place. Mankind was made and created and formed and fashioned and designed by God to reproduce. Reproduction is not optional, it's not tertiary, it's central to what it means to be made in the image of God.

We're living in a day and age where here in our culture and across the world, reproductive rates are plummeting. There are multiple countries and cultures in the world where you can plot on a line graph when they will disappear because deaths are outpacing births. We live in this culture that does not see reproduction as central to the core and the heart of what it means to be human.

Now, it's more complicated because we don't live in Eden. We live in a world that has been corrupted and defaced and defiled by sin and death and the fall. That has not erased the need for us as God's imagers to reproduce. That mandate is still there, but the fall has deeply complicated things.

When we get to Genesis 3, and Adam and Eve have rebelled, they've entered into that rebellion, they've taken the fruit and eaten, they've tried to supplant and usurp God as God and put themselves in His place, God comes to them with the consequences of their choices. Freedom gives us the ability to choose. God gives us the ability to choose, but we don't get to choose the consequences of those choices.

So God comes to them with the consequences, the curse. In Genesis 3:15-16, God says,

"I will put enmity between you and the woman," He's talking to the serpent that deceived, "I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring, your seed, and her offspring, her seed. He will bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel."

This is something that over the development of scripture is going to point towards Christ. But do you see what's involved in this cosmic conflict? The offspring, the seed, the development—this is going to get played out as humanity does what humanity is made to do: be fruitful and multiply and spread out over the earth.

Then He moves on to the consequences to the woman and says,

"To the woman He said, 'I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children. Your desire will be for your husband, but he shall rule over you.'"

So part of the consequence of the fall, of sin and death entering in with its corrupting and defiling presence into God's world, introducing chaos into order, death into life, ugliness into beauty—that's what happens. What we were made to do has been corrupted and complicated by sin, but it hasn't been changed.

So we're made to reproduce, and yet here we are in Scripture presented over and over again with these women who are barren and unable to reproduce. Time after time, God has to step in so that as the storyline is being unfolded and the story is being presented, we see that it is God who is the Redeemer, it is God who is the author of life, it is God who helps us in the corruption and complication of dwelling and living in a sinful, broken world.

These stories have always deeply resonated with me. Some of you might know my wife and I's story through this. We, like everybody when they're young and get married, were super worried about having kids too quickly. And then you reach the point where you're like, "Okay, I think we're ready now. We want to have children." And then it doesn't happen. And then it doesn't happen. And then it doesn't happen. And then the first miscarriage comes. And then the next miscarriage. And all of a sudden, what you thought was going to be easy, what you longed for with all your heart, it's just not there. This longing for something that's just out of reach—some of you here can resonate with that.

I want you to know that there's some beauty and some hope in this story. It's not oversimplified, and I want to walk through the complexities of it, but I want us together to look at how God shows up to help someone who cannot help themselves.

Let's jump back into the text, 1 Samuel 1 verse 3:

"Now this man used to go up year by year from his city to worship and to sacrifice to the LORD of hosts at Shiloh, where the two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas, were priests of Yahweh."

So Elkanah, this random man who has two wives, is a sincere follower of Yahweh. He's doing what he can, so he's going yearly to Shiloh where the Tabernacle is, where the Ark of the Covenant is, where the priest Eli and his sons are mediating and dwelling and trying to lead Israel to be Israel. We're coming out of the time of the judges. It hasn't been going well, but here he is, and he goes year after year.

"On the day when Elkanah sacrificed, he would give portions to Peninnah his wife and to all her sons and daughters."

When an ancient Israelite would go to the Tabernacle and offer sacrifices, sometimes those were sacrifices for sin or atonement, but the most common sacrifice by far was a fellowship sacrifice—the sacrifice of an animal that would then be butchered and cooked, and those that offered it and the priests that gave it and whoever else was around would sit down to share a meal with God.

So every year he would take his family, and they would go, and they would bring an offering, and they would slaughter it, and it would be butchered, and then they would cook it, and they would sit down to share a fellowship offering and a fellowship meal. So, he would give portions to Peninnah his wife and to all her sons and daughters. She would get a lot because she didn't have challenges with infertility. She was fertile; she was bearing children. So, he would give her the food, he would give their children their food so that they could participate in this fellowship offering.

"But to Hannah he gave a double portion because he loved her, though the LORD had closed her womb."

Elkanah, bless his heart—what's she going to do with an extra steak? He's trying, so give him points for trying. He looks over at her, she's watching Peninnah and her children receive their fellowship offering, and there she sits alone without children. And he's like, "Here, honey, have an extra little bit of meat. That'll make it all better." Guys, isn't that what we do? Try to solve the problem practically, try to jump on in there and make something happen.

6 And her rival used to provoke her grievously to irritate her, because the Lord had closed her womb.

I don't know if you've watched that train wreck of a show "Sister Wives," but polygamy doesn't go well. It just doesn't. There's jealousy, there's chaos. So here's this chaos between Peninnah, who's been able to have sons and daughters, and Hannah, who hasn't been able to have any. And Peninnah rubs it in. Peninnah flaunts it. Peninnah degrades and denigrates Hannah consistently, repetitively, over and over again, "grievously to irritate her."

That word there for "irritate"—this is not a bad hair day. This is not a minor inconvenience. The word in the Hebrew that is used there for irritation is generally used in the scriptures to describe storms. It's an acoustic, a sound term that describes whirlwinds and hurricanes and chaos. It's often used to describe a theophany, when God shows up and the majesty and the overwhelming sensation of God showing up.

So this is not little irritation. This is consuming irritation. Peninnah is ruining Hannah's life. She's struggling. Her heart is broken. She wants to conceive. She wants to be who God made her to be, but she can't do it. She can't make it happen. And there's Peninnah, not to comfort and console her, but to rub it in her face, to crush her spirit, "because the LORD had closed her womb."

7 So it went on year by year. As often as she went up to the house of the Lord, she used to provoke her. Therefore Hannah wept and would not eat.

This is not a fast-food story. This is not a little sprint; this is a marathon. Imagine what that does to Hannah—month after month as she isn't able to conceive, year after year as they go back and offer a fellowship offering, and she sees what God has given Peninnah and what God hasn't given her.

"Year by year, as often as she went up to the house of Yahweh, she used to provoke her. Therefore Hannah wept and would not eat." What good is your double portion, Elkanah, when I can't even eat?

And then Elkanah kind of doubles down on his stupidity. We do that, don't we, guys?

8 And Elkanah, her husband, said to her, “Hannah, why do you weep? And why do you not eat? And why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?”

That's a question? Why is she weeping? Because she wants to have a baby and she can't have a baby. And oh, this second wife that you brought into the equation, who's having lots of babies, is making her feel like garbage.

"Why do you weep? Why don't you eat? I gave you a double portion. Why is your heart sad? Shake it off, rub some dirt on it." And then the kicker—dude, I've said a lot of stupid stuff in my life, but I don't think I've gotten this far yet. He goes to her, "Am I not more to you than ten sons? Am I not enough?"

Now, I know that most of our culture gets its theology from movies, and Jerry Maguire says that "you complete me" and all that sort of stuff, but that's not how God designed it. Elkanah—and I'm not trying to diss him—I resonate with Elkanah. He's trying to do what he can in a tough situation. He just does all the wrong things. "Oh, stop being sad. Stop. It's going to be okay. Just be satisfied with me."

You say, "Well, what should he have done?" I think what we see of Elkanah in this story—and it's not a lot, you got to kind of follow the story and read between the lines—but Elkanah is a dude that when he's confronted with a challenge and something doesn't go his way, he tries to fix it himself.

The story seems to indicate Hannah was probably his first wife, and as she was unable to conceive, he would have taken a second wife because he wanted to make sure he had heirs. He's not the first one in the story to do that. Abraham and Sarah—they're promised by God offspring, and they're hitting 75 years old, and it doesn't look like it's happening, and Sarah's like, "Hey, here's my maidservant Hagar." Didn't go so well.

So I get it. I get why he does what he does. That doesn't mean it's a good thing to do. So as he sees his wife hurting, he tries to comfort her with extra food. And when that doesn't work, he just confronts her and says, "Hey, let it go. Just fake it till you make it. Be happy."

So what should he have done? I hope this doesn't strike you as a surprise and doesn't seem overly simple, but he should have prayed. When he was confronted by a challenge that was beyond him, he should have looked to the One whom nothing is beyond. He should have prayed.

Now, Abraham didn't pray. He just took Hagar and created a mess. Jacob took multiple wives to have his twelve sons. But Isaac—Isaac stands out unique in that story in Genesis. When Isaac's wife Rebecca—you remember the way that he got Rebecca, it's a beautiful love story—and he went and got her and brings her back, and he brings her back to his father's place, and they come back into the land, and then she's unable to conceive.

In Genesis 25:21, we just get one little verse about it, but it's unique, it's different:

"Isaac prayed to Yahweh for his wife because she was barren, and Yahweh granted his prayer, and Rebecca his wife conceived."

How different would the story have gone if Elkanah would have prayed with his wife, brought it before the Lord, sought it out? Instead, he was so busy trying to fix it himself. We'll come back to that more. Let's just continue walking through the story.

9 After they had eaten and drunk in Shiloh, Hannah rose. Now Eli the priest was sitting on the seat beside the doorpost of the temple of the Lord.

We're going to learn a little bit more about Eli and his sons next week. There's a contrast that's being presented between Hannah and Eli. We'll unpack that as we go.

So she rises. Eli's there outside the doorpost of the Temple of the Lord, the Tabernacle.

10 She was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.

She goes into the Tabernacle, she goes before the mercy seat, and she lays her heart out before Yahweh. She weeps, she cries, she prays, she seeks God's help.

11 And she vowed a vow and said, “O Lord of hosts, if you will indeed look on the affliction of your servant and remember me and not forget your servant, but will give to your servant a son, then I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life, and no razor shall touch his head.”

Hannah's actually the only woman in the Hebrew scriptures, the Old Testament, that makes and keeps a vow. She makes a vow and says, "O LORD of hosts." There's a lot of ways that Yahweh gets referenced in the scriptures. "Lord of hosts" is one of those terms. It literally means Yahweh of Angel Armies, God of battle.

She is calling on the One who commands the armies of heaven to intercede and battle on her behalf, which is a completely legitimate thing to do if you understand Genesis 1 and 3, and that this is all tied into this cosmic conflict.

So she cries out, "O God of armies, O God of power, if you will indeed look on the affliction of your servant and remember me and not forget your servant but will give to your servant a son." What do you see repeated over and over again there? How does she identify herself? As a servant, as a servant unto Yahweh. She understands that she was made by God for God, and that what she's bringing before Him—"Remember me, don't forget. You made me for this purpose, so I'm asking you to help."

"If you will give me a son, I will give him to you all the days of his life, and no razor shall touch his head." Some of your Bibles may have an addition, "No alcohol will go beyond his lips." This is a Nazirite vow. We're coming out of the Book of Judges—who was the last judge? Samson. Why did Samson not cut his hair? Because he was a Nazirite.

So this baby that Hannah is going to have is going to be set up—if you're reading the story and you finish with Samson as the last judge, Samson's not actually the last judge. Samuel's the last judge. So he's going to be the Nazirite that Samson was supposed to be.

12 As she continued praying before the Lord, Eli observed her mouth. 13 Hannah was speaking in her heart; only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard. Therefore Eli took her to be a drunken woman.

So Eli's the priest, the spiritual leader, the shepherd, the guide, the one that mediates and connects and helps and consoles. So there he is standing, and he looks over and he sees her, and he just sees her mouth moving. We're going to learn a little bit about Eli's lack of spiritual discernment.

If you've ever been heartbroken and you've ever cried out to God out of your heartbreak, you can resonate and understand what this is like. So there she is, she's just broken, and she's laying it all out before God.

And Eli looks at her and goes, "That girl's drunk." "Eli took her to be a drunken woman." We'll see next week maybe a little projection is going on.

13 Hannah was speaking in her heart; only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard. Therefore Eli took her to be a drunken woman. 14 And Eli said to her, “How long will you go on being drunk? Put your wine away from you.” 15 But Hannah answered, “No, my lord, I am a woman troubled in spirit. I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord. 16 Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for all along I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation.” 17 Then Eli answered, “Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to him.” 18 And she said, “Let your servant find favor in your eyes.” Then the woman went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad.

And then we get a really fascinating sentence: "Then the woman went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad." How does that work? Hannah prayed until it made a difference.

Now, we got to be clear about that. When she walked out of that Tabernacle, she wasn't pregnant. Circumstances hadn't changed, but she had changed. Hannah prayed until it made a difference.

I'm ashamed to think of how often and how many times I've prayed, "God, I need this. God, I need this." And then I walk out of that prayer, and all that anxiety is still there, and so I begin to do what I can do. I jump into Elkanah mode. I'm going to try to fix this on my own. Hannah prayed until it made a difference. We're going to come back to that, but for now, let's keep going.

19 They rose early in the morning and worshiped before the Lord; then they went back to their house at Ramah. And Elkanah knew Hannah his wife, and the Lord remembered her. 20 And in due time Hannah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Samuel, for she said, “I have asked for him from the Lord.”

The name Samuel literally means "the name of God," but it's a contraction of asking and calling out to the Lord and Him responding. She named him Samuel because she said, "I have asked for him from the LORD."

21 The man Elkanah and all his house went up to offer to the Lord the yearly sacrifice and to pay his vow. 22 But Hannah did not go up, for she said to her husband, “As soon as the child is weaned, I will bring him, so that he may appear in the presence of the Lord and dwell there forever.”

Remember, her vow was, "Lord, if you'll give me a son, I will give him back to you to serve all the days of his life."

So Elkanah is getting the family together. This would be her first time going up with a son. She says, "I'm not going to go until the child is weaned, so that I'm able to leave him and he will survive. I'm not going to go until the child is weaned, so that he may appear in the presence of the LORD and dwell there forever."

23 Elkanah her husband said to her, “Do what seems best to you; wait until you have weaned him; only, may the Lord establish his word.” So the woman remained and nursed her son until she weaned him.

You almost feel like Elkanah is saying, "Hey, there's no backsies, right? Like, you made this vow to the Lord. We got to make sure that we—God kept His side, we're going to keep our side too."

24 And when she had weaned him, she took him up with her, along with a three-year-old bull, an ephah of flour, and a skin of wine, and she brought him to the house of the Lord at Shiloh. And the child was young.

So she brings a three-year-old bull as a significant offering. This is a big deal. Along with the flour, she's going to make this sacrificial fellowship offering in acknowledgment of what Yahweh has done for her, and she's going to keep her end of the vow and place Samuel into service of the Lord.

25 Then they slaughtered the bull, and they brought the child to Eli. 26 And she said, “Oh, my lord! As you live, my lord, I am the woman who was standing here in your presence, praying to the Lord. 27 For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me my petition that I made to him. 28 Therefore I have lent him to the Lord. As long as he lives, he is lent to the Lord.” And he worshiped the Lord there.

She's conceived and borne the child and weaned him, so it's been some time.

So there's Eli, and she's like, "Hey, remember me? You thought I was drunk, and I was crying out to Yahweh, and guess what? Yahweh heard my prayer, and He answered. I was the one praying to the LORD 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."

It's a strange thing to say, "I've lent him to the LORD." It's a difficult word to translate into English from the Hebrew. Maybe "dedicate" would be better. There's this sense of recognition of who he actually belongs to. "So I lent him to the LORD. As long as he lives, he is lent to the LORD."

And this last part: "And he worshiped the LORD there." The closest "he" in the text is the boy Samuel. So he's a young boy, and yet even as this young boy, as he's being brought by his mom to be left and placed in the service, what does he do? He immediately begins as a child to worship the Lord.

Now we get into chapter 2, verses 1-11. Hannah prays; she praises, and she prays. And listen to what she says:

1 And Hannah prayed and said, “My heart exults in the Lord; my horn is exalted in the Lord. My mouth derides my enemies, because I rejoice in your salvation. 2 “There is none holy like the Lord: for there is none besides you; there is no rock like our God. 3 Talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth; for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed. 4 The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble bind on strength. 5 Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread, but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger. The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn. 6 The Lord kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up. 7 The Lord makes poor and makes rich; he brings low and he exalts. 8 He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, and on them he has set the world. 9 “He will guard the feet of his faithful ones, but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness, for not by might shall a man prevail. 10 The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces; against them he will thunder in heaven. The Lord will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king and exalt the horn of his anointed.” 11 Then Elkanah went home to Ramah. And the boy was ministering to the Lord in the presence of Eli the priest.

It's quite an opening to this book. It says a lot to us about who we are and who God is and how we are to relate to Him, how we are to communicate with Him. It's a difficult text because it's easy to misuse and abuse. It's easy to look at this and say, "Well, okay, Hannah couldn't have a child, and she prayed for a child, and then God gave her a child, and so then that's how it's supposed to work every time."

Now, that's certainly how it didn't work for my wife and I. We prayed, we cried, we begged, we pleaded, we did everything we could on our side of things. My wife never got pregnant, but God did give us a child through adoption that we love and treasure and value.

Prayer is an indicator of our hope. Prayer is a sign of what we are looking to for it to be sufficient. And if we're looking to that One as our hope, if we're looking to that One for His sufficiency, His strength, does it make sense in any way, shape, or form that we would tell Him how to do that?

Somebody once said, "I don't pray to change God; I pray that God would change me." Prayer is an act of alignment, and it's not getting God to line up to us; it's getting ourselves to line up to God. Prayer is not wish fulfillment.

Hannah wasn't praying for a child just because she wanted a child. It wasn't for her own personal happiness. It wasn't selfish. You see in how she prays, she wants to be a part of God's mandate. She wants to be who God made her to be. She's not coming and saying, "This is what I want, God. Make it happen." She's coming to Him and saying, "God, this is what You want, and sin has broken this thing, but God, I'm asking for Your help. I'm asking for You to intervene."

There's not wish fulfillment. God isn't the genie in the bottle. I think as I was praying over this message and thinking about this—there's so much misunderstanding around prayer. Jesus says, "If you ask for anything in my name, it shall be given unto you." And people are like, "Oh, I get it. Jesus's name is the magic incantation. So I just pray for it in Jesus's name. Name it and claim it, baby."

But praying in Jesus's name is about aligning yourself to the name and the work of Jesus. And so sometimes in that, we will bring our wish list, we'll bring our desires, we'll bring our prayer to Jesus in His name. We align ourselves to Him, and what happens is those desires get changed. And sometimes those desires are aligned with Him, and so they're given. And sometimes they're actually given the way that we ask, and sometimes they're given in a completely unexpected way, because God is God and we are not.

Prayer is not a mechanism by which we control God. Prayer is a mechanism by which we choose to humble ourselves before God, lean not in our own understanding, cast our cares upon Him, knowing who He is, and we align ourselves to Him.

Jesus taught a lot about prayer. I want to focus on one specific aspect here as we close off this morning. Jesus taught about praying until something happens, about not stopping in prayer until something changes.

Luke chapter 18, verses 1-8:

1 And he told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart.

Anybody here need to hear that? Anybody here need a little help on continuing to pray and not losing heart when you don't get the answer you think you should get? So let's listen to what Jesus has to say.

2 He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor respected man.

That's a bad judge.

3 And there was a widow in that city who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Give me justice against my adversary.’

So Jesus is setting up this parable, this story. Here's the judge, the height of culture, the symbol of power and authority. Here is this widow, the bottom of culture and society at that time. This is a contrast Jesus is setting up. And the widow's coming to him saying, "Give me justice against my adversary."

This widow has been wounded, she's been hurt, something has been done to her, and she's coming to the judge: "I need your help." He doesn't fear God or man, so for a while he refused. He just said no. Why would he help her? He doesn't fear God, doesn't fear man. Not a good judge.

4 For a while he refused, but afterward he said to himself, ‘Though I neither fear God nor respect man, 5 yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will give her justice, so that she will not beat me down by her continual coming.’ ” 6 And the Lord said, “Hear what the unrighteous judge says.

This is one of my favorite parables because Jesus can teach truth out of the mouth of a fictional unrighteous judge.

7 And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? 8 I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

Jesus says, "You know, this unrighteous judge, he'll do the right thing because she keeps coming over and over and over again." He says, "You know, God's not an unrighteous judge. He's a loving Father. And if we keep coming to Him over and over again, He will respond."

Now, let me be clear: that doesn't mean He'll do what you tell Him to do. It doesn't mean you're in charge. It doesn't mean prayer is a mechanism by which you control God. But it does mean that when we cry out, He hears. When we whisper, He hears. When our hearts are so broken we can't even utter a word and our mouth just moves like Hannah did in the Tabernacle, He hears.

Jesus tells us, "Listen, be like that widow. Keep bringing it over and over, knowing that God is not an unrighteous judge but a loving Father. And if He hasn't answered it yet in the way that you would like it to be answered, there's probably a good reason for that."

I am so grateful for the prayers that God has answered affirmatively. I'm so grateful for the times I've prayed and God answered and showed up. I might even be more grateful for the times where He said no, because what I was asking for was ridiculously stupid. Be careful what you wish for sometimes.

Jesus didn't just talk about this kind of prayer; He walked it. Jesus was known by prayer. He would often, as He walked and ministered with His disciples, get up early in the morning, go to a desolate place, and pray—spend time with the Father. Jesus lived and modeled a lifestyle of communion and communication with the Father.

But Jesus also knew what it was like to be tempted and tried powerfully. Jesus knew and experienced what it meant to pour out your heart violently to God. You're thinking what I'm thinking of: the Garden of Gethsemane.

After Jesus shares that final meal with His disciples, institutes the sacrament of communion, dismisses Judas to go to betray Him, teaches and encourages the disciples in that upper room, they withdraw in the middle of the night to this outdoor garden space, the Garden of Gethsemane. And there Jesus says, "Hey, stay awake and pray." And He goes off by Himself, and He throws Himself down, He cries out.

The gospel accounts give us this in Matthew 26. He cries out, "Father, if it's possible, let's do something else. Give me a Plan B, Plan C. Is there another way? Any other way?"

And He's praying so intensely, His capillaries are bursting. He begins to sweat blood, which is an actual thing that happens to people in moments of intense stress and anguish. It's very rare, thankfully. But there He is. This is the level of pressure and intensity.

Jesus isn't like, "Hey, God, if there's another way..." No, He's crying out, "Father, let this cup pass. If there's any other way." But prayer is alignment, not control. He asked if there's any other way, "But not my will, but Yours be done. Not my will, but Yours."

Do you see how Jesus is modeling this kind of prayer? And then He goes back, and the disciples are taking a nap. Generally, I'm pro-nap. I'm in the nap party. But at that moment, when Jesus asks you to stay awake, you probably shouldn't nap. So He comes back, He's like, "Hey, wake up and pray." And He goes back, and He does it again. He comes back, goes back. Finally, Jesus, intensely, profoundly, sweating blood, pleads and prays for another way, "But not my will, but Yours be done." Jesus prays until something happens.

Much like Hannah, who at the end of her prayer, she gets up, she stops crying, she goes and eats, and then she goes back because she's aligned herself. Jesus gets up, maybe He kicked Peter—I don't know, I'm just throwing that out there—wakes him up and says, "Hey, guys, it's done. We got to go," and sets His face like flint and walks into the will of the Father. Jesus prayed until something happened.

And this is a lesson we've got to learn. He didn't pray until something happened in the sense that, you know, God sent an angel army and rescued Him, or God came up with Plan B or Plan C or Plan whatever. No, Jesus prayed and humbled Himself, submitted Himself. He groaned, He cried, and He was heard. He was heard, and He still went to the cross, because His prayer was aligning Himself to the will of the Father.

I don't know about you, but I'm glad that Jesus prayed until something happened. Hebrews says this about it:

7 In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence.

Hold on a second. "Because He was heard." But He did die. So how was He heard if He actually did go to the cross? Well, because the story doesn't end at the cross. He was rescued from death. He wasn't rescued from the act of dying. No, He died. He died and was buried for three days. But He was rescued from death.

7 In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence. 8 Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered. 9 And being made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him, 10 being designated by God a high priest after the order of Melchizedek.

Jesus prayed until He made a difference, and oh, what a difference it makes. It has changed everything.

So let's pray like Hannah. Let's pray like Jesus. Let's pray and pray and pray and pray until something happens. That may be a change of the circumstances. It might be a change of your heart and desire. I can almost guarantee you it won't work according to your time schedule, but I can definitely guarantee you that it will work together for His glory and for your good, because that's who our God is.

That's Hannah's prayer. He's the God that surprises everyone. He's the God that brings down the proud and the mighty and elevates the humble and the weak.

"Not by might, not by power, but by my Spirit," says the LORD God of hosts.

Let us be a praying people, not so that we can control God, but so that we might be comforted and moved and used by God to be who He made us to be. Amen.