What's in the name?

We don't long for a son more than we long for a daughter.  We would love lots of daughters and sons, or just one daughter, or twin sons.  Whatever our future family looks like, we will love them.

So why 'Hoping for a Samuel'?

Surely any Christian who has struggled with infertility has looked more than once at the story of Hannah.  Her husband has another wife, who is uber-fertile and pops out babies like there's no tomorrow.  But Hannah is barren.  Totally devastating at any point in history.  But in addition to the longing and sorrow, was the shame that she would have felt; ancient societies saw it as a great disgrace for a woman not to be able to bear children.

Hannah goes to the temple to pray, whilst everyone else is celebrating a big festival.  She is distraught.  As she prays, she cries so much that she appears drunk.  The priest, Eli, first tells her to take her drunken self out of the temple - then realises she's sober, but sorrowful, and he blesses her.  He asks the Lord to grant her request.  Doesn't say that God defiinitely will answer her prayer - in fact, Eli might not have even known what Hannah was praying about - but Eli is on her side.

And the end of Hannah's story is that she does get pregnant.  Her son is Samuel, one of the most significant prophets in the Old Testament.  It's likely that Hannah spent very few years with her longed-for son, because 'after he was weaned' she took him to the temple (back to Eli) to learn to be a priest.  All those years waiting for a baby, and she has only a few years with him.

There is a lot to relate to in Hannah's story.  I have certainly felt pangs (an understatement) of jealousy when other women get pregnant, especially 'by accident'.  I have cried lots, at church, at home, on trains, in the car.  I often like to cry alone.  But I very much appreciate the comfort of knowing someone is praying for and thinking of me.

So back to the title.  We hope that God will give us a child.  We hope for an answer to our prayer, just like Hannah found in her son Samuel.  But it's more than that.  It's saying, I'm going to be like Hannah who went to worship in the midst of her distress.  We don't know whether we will eventually get pregnant naturally, or whether we'll adopt, or never have a family.  But I'm going to worship.

There's this wonderful chorus to an old hymn:

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
look full in His wonderful face
and the things of the earth will grow strangely dim
in the light of His Glory and Grace.

After almost 5 years of struggle, I can tell you with utmost confidence that these words are powerfully, wonderfully true.