Category: Devotionals

The emotions that arise from hurt and pain can be overwhelming. Instead of shutting down, we can be honest with God about our feelings. This post looks at the life of Hannah to learn what to do with our feelings.

If we are honest with ourselves, I think most of us would admit we struggle with emotions. They can be so big and rise so fast. Sometimes we anticipate them while other times they overwhelm us without warning. It’s easy to settle into the extremes of emotions too. It’s often more comfortable to either camp out in believing all emotions are sinful and must be avoided or emotions are all right and must be followed without fail.

For many years, I stayed firmly in the “all emotions are sinful and must not be felt” category. I am really good at numbing feelings or ignoring them. Yet as much as I work to push them aside, they are always there. I succeed in not feeling them for a time, but eventually they cannot be ignored any longer. Plus, as I have studied the Bible more and more, I have seen emotions in the Scriptures in ways that are not sinful. That challenges everything I believe about them and led me to study deeper.

As I dug into God’s word looking for His truth about emotions which He created, God took me deeper into the story of Hannah in 1 Samuel. We may not immediately think of her story when thinking about emotions, but Hannah has much to teach us about feelings and the God who hears.

Hurt and Pain…

Hannah’s story is one of heartache and pain. Her husband married two women, Hannah and Peninnah. Even worse, Peninnah had children while Hannah remained barren. Hannah longed for a child, but she could not conceive. The ache was deep. However, Peninnah taunted and provoked her, deepening her pain. Hannah’s barrenness was thrown in her face time and time again as each month passed as the one before. Grief upon grief, sorrow upon sorrow.

In looking closer at her story, the words used to describe her pain stood out to me. Her various places in her story and in various versions, descriptions of her pain include bitterness of soul, anguish, great anxiety. She is described as deeply hurt and deeply distressed. These are strong words for intense pain. Even if you cannot relate to the causes of Hannah’s pain, maybe you can relate to some of these feelings. I know I can.

So what does Hannah do with this deep, aching grief she carries year after year?

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

1 Samuel 1:10, ESV

Eli, the priest, saw her praying, moving her mouth but praying quietly in her heart. He accused her of drunkenness.

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. Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for all along I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation.”

1 Samuel 1:15-16, ESV

Earlier in the chapter, it says Hannah wept year after year. Days, months, years would come and go, yet her circumstances remained unchanged, her pain persisted, and tears fell hotly down her face. However, she took those tears, that pain, unashamedly to God.

Honesty…

She poured out her soul. She wept bitterly. These were not quiet tears. She did not pray a prayer merely throwing out a request as if she was okay and it wasn’t important to her. This longing for a child, the taunts from words that cut her to her core, it mattered to her, and she let God know that. It was not drunkenness pouring out of her but pain and grief flowing from a deep bucket inside of her. She came to God anxious and vexed, distressed and broken. She laid all her emotions, no matter how hard or painful or ugly, at the feet of her Father.

Yet He listened. He didn’t turn her away and tell her to repent of being grieved and distressed. No, He heard the cries of His daughter. He welcomed her prayers and her feelings, and He listens and comforts her.

Then the woman went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad.

1 Samuel 1:18b, ESV

After pouring out her pain and weeping bitterly of anguish and anxiety to her Father, she went on her way, ate, and her face wasn’t sad any longer. Her circumstances were the same. She was childless, and surely Peninnah continued her taunts. Still, God comforted her as she laid her grief before Him in raw honesty.

You probably know God granted her request. She conceived and bore a son, Samuel. Our prayers may not be answered in such fashion, and sometimes the pain just keeps aching, deeper and deeper. Still, we learn from Hannah who prayed such tears not knowing if God would answer the way her heart desired.

Though she knew she may never be given the child she longed for, she still went to God and with unmasked heart, she prayed and wept and found God in her grief. With the load of grief lightened, she walked away with the sadness gone from her face, resting in the promise that her God hears her.

Our emotions…

We each have our own pains, our own griefs, our own buckets inside of us with anguish, anxiety, and hurt. We can try to numb them, not feel them, push them aside, or we can let them push us about on their every whim, unanchored and unstable. But there is another option. Following Hannah’s example, we can come to our Father with unmasked heart, pouring all the brokenness wrapped up in our grief at His feet.

We can weep bitterly, pray honestly, and rest in the promise that our Father hears. Every emotion, no matter how ugly or painful or difficult, we can take to our Abba and know He will meet us in our grief and carry our burdens with us. We can then stand up, though circumstances remain, with heart lighter and face brighter, for our God welcomes us into His arms, emotions and tears and all, gives us comfort, and hears our hearts.

For the God who welcomed Hannah’s weeping prayers of emotions all those years ago, is the same God who welcomes our weeping prayers of emotions today.

If you have found this inspiring, share the encouragement…

God comforted her as she laid her grief before Him in raw honesty. Click To Tweet

Jordi Ganduxe

Once we overcome a struggle, we feel like we should never have to go back to relearn it. But we are forgetful people, and it’s ok to remember lessons previously learned.

Currently, I am in a season of forgetfulness. It’s super frustrating. In fact, last night as I began walking up the stairs, I was thinking of something I would need to do. By the time I got to the top of the stairs? I completely forgot about it. Sigh. No big deal, turn around, and go do what I forgot to do. This morning I couldn’t remember if I had finished drinking my coffee. I had, I found the mug in the sink. That may be a good sign I need more coffee. And then there was the day I forgot to shave my other leg. Serious issues.

I know it is because my mind is currently running in twenty different directions, and at a high speed in each of those directions! Honestly though, I like it this way. Typically I will go through spurts of this in my life, and then go through a season of rest. I know I’m about due for a rest.

My walk with the Lord is also in a season of forgetfulness. It too, is super frustrating but for different reasons.

I have been forgetful with lessons I’ve previously learned. Actually, I have gone back to read some of the things I wrote before. Focused, Bold, Fearless, Control, Vision… Yep, there it is chronicled in the volumes of a digital library called a blog. Part of me doesn’t even remember writing that stuff, because that sure isn’t how I feel at the moment! Right now, I kinda feel Timid, Scared, Weak, and Frazzled.

Forgetful: Pride and Perfectionism

Aren’t I suppose to be the one encouraging others? People are encouraging me, and I’m thinking, “Isn’t this the advice I gave you six months ago?”

Yuck. Isn’t that disgusting? Sometimes I just really blow it. Honestly, I want to use a bunch of cuss words right here, because this pride is just so gross. Sometimes I can be a real spotted-spore-wagon (I highly recommend The Insultinator for moments like this. In this case it means “contagious seed planted by an alien on a butt”). It is in this moment however, I can acknowledge my need for a Savior. So much nastiness inside. So much grace needed.

The thing is, I actually do feel like I am letting others down if I don’t have it all together. The voice in my head whispering lies is saying, “You don’t know what you’re doing, and those people know that, and they are ridiculing you for it.” The spiral into perfectionism spins quickly.

Then, to add insult to injury – forgetting these lessons I thought I knew so well, makes me feel weak. I think to myself, “Rachael you should be better than this. Rachael, get your act together!”

Remember: Grace and Humility

To be able to go to friends, sisters in Christ, and ask for their grace and patience, has been healing for me. I’ve had friendships go awry, so it is a bit scary for me to be vulnerable with friends. Truly, the only person I have ever felt comfortable enough to show all my wounds and weaknesses to is my husband. I am learning though, that I do have my safe people. With these safe people I can say, “Pray for me, I’m struggling.” I can say, “I don’t know what I’m doing, can we learn together.” And then there are those truly rare gems out there that I can be completely vulnerable with, and they simply nod in agreement and pray for me without giving advice.

Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.

Galatians 6:2, NIV

Christ is my ultimate safe place, even when I don’t feel it. Here recently, I haven’t been feeling safe. It all feels risky. I fear disappointment. I’m fearing doubt. It’s easy to feel bold when I am not exposed. Feeling bold when we’re vulnerable is a different story. Faith is easy when I feel like being faithful because everything is going smoothly, but being faithful when I don’t feel like it – this is where I will get stronger, this is where my endurance is developing.

For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.

James 1:3, NLT

In these unsettling moments, I go back to the core of what I believe. I know that God is holy, holy, holy. I know He is all-powerful; yet, He desires to make Himself known to me. He is kind, and good. I am His child, and I have the freedom to ask Him – not demand – but ask for anything, and can trust the answer He gives. Once I remember the foundation of my faith, I am once again brought to humility. Here the burden begins to lift.

Praise the Lord!
Oh give thanks to the Lord, for He is good;
For His lovingkindness is everlasting.

Psalm 106:1, NASB

As the pride is lifted, and humility flourishes, I see that my struggles are a result of my sin. His kindness brings us to repentance. With repentance comes healing, and with healing comes restoration. Lesson re-learned.

Finally…

I know this will not be the last time I will need to walk through these lessons. I can rest knowing that the Lord is not expecting me to learn my lesson once and for all. After all, if we were able to obtain perfection, we wouldn’t need a Savior. He desires us so intensely, that nothing will stop His pursuit of us.

If you have found this inspiring, share the encouragement…

I acknowledge my need for a Savior. So much nastiness inside. So much grace needed. Click To Tweet

Patrick Hendry

The Lord loves us fiercely, and pursues us fiercely!

Our identity is made up of who we were, and who we are. We have been adopted, and given a new name. Our identity comes from the One to whom we belong.

Identity. We all have one. Often times our identity is multifaceted to encompass the many parts that make us who we are. It is vital that we understand our identity, but that isn’t always easy.

Half way across the world, there is a little girl who, for reasons unknown, cannot grow up in the family she was born to. Where she lives instead, she is identified by her status as an orphan. She has lost so much, experienced trauma no child should, and though she’s too young to understand it all right now, her identity to those who care for her is tied up in the title orphan. It’s a title she never asked for, born out of trauma she never deserved.

Adopted: A New Identity

This little girl, thousands of miles away, is soon to be my daughter. My family is matched with her. We expect to board a plane, fly clear across oceans, and sign the papers to bring this child into our family. We couldn’t be more excited.

In a moment, with the stroke of a pen, this little girl’s identity will change. She will no longer be an orphan. Rather, she will bear the title beloved daughter. She will no longer own the name that identifies her with the orphanage that now cares for her, but she will own the name that identifies her with our family. She will be a Fox.

I know, this sounds so wonderful and beautiful, and it is. However, my husband and I signing a paper will never undo the parts of her story that left her without the family she was born into. We can never remove that part of her story. We wouldn’t want to. It’s part of what makes her, well, her. However, in that moment when the adoption is finalized, she will not be identified by her trauma, her orphan status anymore. Those parts of her story remain, but she will be identified by her family.

When she receives her new identity as daughter, sister, Fox, she won’t understand what that means. She will join our family still living from the vantage point of all she’s ever known…a child without a family. All the coping mechanisms she has developed and uses to get by in an institution she will continue to use in our family. She will join our family scared and untrusting because she has grown up so far only counting on herself.

She will not understand how her new identity changes life for her. We, as her family and parents, will patiently love her and teach her and watch her grow into the identity that will already be hers once the papers are signed. Her identity will be secure, but we will come alongside her and help her learn that and trust that because it won’t be instant. We will stick with her no matter how long it takes as she heals from her trauma in the context of a loving family all the while learning what it means to be a daughter.

We will sit with her, listen to her, cry with her, laugh with her, join her in memories she has from before she joins our family, make new memories with her as part of our family. We will share her pain and her joy, her fears and her courage. It will be full of broken beauty, and we know God will be with her, with us, in all of it.

Adopted: Who We Were

Can you see the gospel yet? Do you see your own adoption into God’s family?

In similar fashion, I am adopted into God’s family. Before, my trauma identified me. Those years of abuse touched and wounded places so deep inside me it became me. The effects showed in every aspect of me. Yet, my identity as beloved daughter was sealed and secured the moment God saved me.

Just like that little girl across the world, when I received my new identity in Christ, I did not understand what it meant, how it changed life for me. The coping mechanisms I developed and used to survive the trauma continued. The effects of my experiences on me did not just disappear. God doesn’t erase the years of trauma. That remains part of my story, but now, in God’s family, that does not define me. It is not my identity any longer.

Adopted: Who We Are

Though I was a victim, I am not A Victim. Now, God calls me My Delight is in Her.

You shall no more be termed Forsaken…but you shall be called My Delight is in Her…

Isaiah 62:4, ESV

Over the years since God brought me into His family, He continues to patiently love me, teach me, grow me into the identity He secured for me on the cross all those years ago. I came to Him scared, unsure how to trust, living still from the identity of my trauma that was so familiar. He came alongside me and still does, teaching me what it means to be Beloved Daughter.

Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows…

Isaiah 53:4, ESV

The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty One who will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you by His love; He will exult over you with loud singing.

Zephaniah 3:17, ESV

This growing into my identity in Him, in His family, is ongoing, yet He is with me daily through it all. He sits with me, listens to me, weeps with me, laughs with me. He meets me in the memories that haunt me, and He joins me in new memories with Him and His family, my family. He shares my pain and my joy, my fears and my courage. It is broken. It is beautiful. It is redemptive. It is adoption.

Your turn…

What identity of your past do you find hard to shake?

Look to your Abba Father who is with you, teaching you, growing you into the identity of His daughter He secured for you long before you knew Him.

His Delight is in You.

If you have found this inspiring, share the encouragement…

Before, my trauma identified me... It is not my identity any longer. Click To Tweet

Jenna Christina

I was afraid, and running, and broken; but God loved, pursued, and redeemed me. It is because of this that I am beautiful, and enough.

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