My sisters always tell me that they feel sorry for my future children, because, let's face it, they are going to get stuck with some pretty peculiar names. I don't care, though. I have an obsession with insanely long, unique sounding names. I can't help it.
I've always related to Anne Shirley in that way. Call me Cordelia. Please. Anything but plain, old, tired Hannah.
Lately I've been struggling with trust.
I hold on too tightly to people and material objects.
I can't let go and let God.
I'm terrified at what might happen if I let go. I always feel like if I do, the thing that I'm holding on to will stretch out its wings, and flutter away. I'm scared of losing, of being abandoned and forgotten by the people I love.
I pray every night for God to help me with this. I believe; help my unbelief [Mark 9:24]. But it's been hard.
I flipped through my little Bible to 1 Samuel awhile ago and read the story of Hannah, my namesake.
I've read it many times before, and know it well, but this time it spoke to me.
Hannah wanted a son more than anything. She wept and wouldn't eat, and her heart was sad [1 Samuel 1:8]. She prayed every day, even though it seemed hopeless.
But then she decided to give it all to God.
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 give 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." [1 Samuel 1:11]I don't know what made her do it. I can't imagine it was easy, it never is easy to let go. But instead of continuing to go on being depressed, she went away and her face was no longer sad [1 Samuel 1:18].
That was the part of the story that stuck out to me. She was no longer sad. She didn't know what would happen. She didn't have any guarantee that she would ever have a son. But she wasn't worried. It was in God's hands.
Reading this comforted me more than I can express.
I think this is one of the reasons I have this name. Every time someone acknowledges me, I am reminded of the story, and how to trust. It's still difficult. I'm not perfect. Hannah wasn't perfect. But I'm learning to put my faith in the One who is.
what I've been meditating on