GAH. Today’s readings.
There was a certain man from Ramathaim, Elkanah by name,
a Zuphite from the hill country of Ephraim.
He was the son of Jeroham, son of Elihu,
son of Tohu, son of Zuph, an Ephraimite.
He had two wives, one named Hannah, the other Peninnah;
Peninnah had children, but Hannah was childless.
This man regularly went on pilgrimage from his city
to worship the LORD of hosts and to sacrifice to him at Shiloh,
where the two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas,
were ministering as priests of the LORD.
When the day came for Elkanah to offer sacrifice,
he used to give a portion each to his wife Peninnah
and to all her sons and daughters,
but a double portion to Hannah because he loved her,
though the LORD had made her barren.
Her rival, to upset her, turned it into a constant reproach to her
that the LORD had left her barren.
This went on year after year;
each time they made their pilgrimage to the sanctuary of the LORD,
Peninnah would approach her,
and Hannah would weep and refuse to eat.
Her husband Elkanah used to ask her:
“Hannah, why do you weep, and why do you refuse to eat?
Why do you grieve?
Am I not more to you than ten sons?”
Hannah was given a double portion because she was well-loved. She was given more, even though it appeared that she had less. And yet she still wept for the one thing she could not have. But her husband comes to her and says:
“Why do you weep…? Why do you grieve? Am I not more to you than ten sons?”
I walked into adoration feeling upset, frustrated, like I wasn’t getting what I wanted, and I read that.
Am I not more than all of those things? Am I not bigger than this world, than your desires, do I not mean more to you than all these things?
I had to ask myself why I ever grieve, why I ever worry, why I ever feel even the slightest bit sorry for myself. Because if I have Him, what more could I possibly need? What more could I possibly want? He loves me, and has given me twice what I deserve.
That is cause for rejoicing.