Don’t Mask Your Season

There was a certain man from Ramathaim, a Zuphite from the hill country of Ephraim, whose name was Elkanah son of Jeroham, the son of Elihu, the son of Tohu, the son of Zuph, an Ephraimite. He had two wives; one was called Hannah and the other Peninnah. Peninnah had children, but Hannah had none.Year after year this man went up from his town to worship and sacrifice to the Lord Almighty at Shiloh, where Hophni and Phinehas, the two sons of Eli, were priests of the Lord. Whenever the day came for Elkanah to sacrifice, he would give portions of the meat to his wife Peninnah and to all her sons and daughters. But to Hannah he gave a double portion because he loved her, and the Lord had closed her womb. Because the Lord had closed Hannah’s womb, her rival kept provoking her in order to irritate her. This went on year after year. Whenever Hannah went up to the house of the Lord, her rival provoked her till she wept and would not eat. Her husband Elkanah would say to her, “Hannah, why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?””
— 1 Samuel 1:1–8 (NIV)

I don’t know about you, but I can easily picture Hannah living a beautiful, sunlit summer when she was found by a good man with whom she would share her life. Imagine your favorite love story—something like that. But just as in every good story there are plot twists, Hannah’s life took one too. The honeymoon phase passed, and suddenly Hannah discovered she could not conceive.

The bright and vivid scenes of that earlier season began to fade. The joy of summer gave way to the muted tones of autumn. As the leaves fell, so did Hannah’s hopes of bearing children and building a happy family. In that context, infertility carried even heavier weight—after all, the promise of the coming Messiah could be fulfilled at any moment. As if the pain of barrenness weren’t enough, Hannah also had to deal with the rivalry of Peninnah, Elkanah’s second wife, who provoked her year after year. A harsh winter had come upon Hannah’s life.

Yet even amid this whirlwind of emotions, Hannah leaves us with a precious lesson: don’t mask the condition of your current season. Hannah didn’t suppress her feelings; she expressed her sorrow for living through a doubly painful winter—first because of her infertility, and second because of Peninnah’s constant taunting.

Looking closely at the story, we can see that Hannah actually had reasons to hide her pain. Verse 5 of 1 Samuel notes that Elkanah gave Hannah a double portion of the sacrifice because he loved her. In verse 8, we see Elkanah’s anguish as he notices her sadness, asking if his love wasn’t worth more to her than ten sons. Okay, perhaps we can say he was a confident man, right? But the point is this: Hannah was married to a good man, yet even his kindness couldn’t make up for the Lord having closed her womb. Elkanah’s love wasn’t a reason for Hannah to pretend she was fine or to minimize the pain of that season.

One of the ways we demonstrate that we understand the value of the processes God places us in is by choosing not to mask the pain they may bring. Please understand—this doesn’t give us permission to sink into self-pity or to overlook God’s goodness in dark times. However, Scripture doesn’t tell us to silence our souls, but to direct them to the right place. We don’t have a High Priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses. As a Man of Sorrows, who knows what suffering is, He is powerful to use our pain as raw material to create something new and beautiful. God can only deal with what is real—a genuine sorrow in His hands will bear far more fruit than a fake joy ever could.

Reflection:

• Do you tend to mask the pain and suffering you go through?
• What area of your life might be serving as a mask for feelings that need to be acknowledged and processed?
• Do you struggle to see God as someone capable of handling your worst?