Mother’s Day
1 Samuel 1 May 14, 2006
Intro:
This story was written by a woman named Bobbie Pingaro, in 1967:
I had the meanest mother in the whole wide world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, we had to have cereal, eggs, or toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. And you can guess, my supper was different than the other kids’ also. But at least I wasn’t alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You’d think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said we’d be gone an hour, that we be gone one hour or less -- not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up Daddy’s pants. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was.
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends? The worst is yet to come.
We had to be in bed by nine each night and up at eight the next morning. We couldn’t sleep till noon like our friends. So while they slept, my mother actually had the nerve to break the child-labor law. We had to wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she laid awake at night thinking of mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us - and it nearly did. By the time we were teenagers, she was much wiser and our life became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a girlfriend, can you imagine she checked on me to see if I was really there. I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That is if I’d had a boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention, while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old-fashioned mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is, if you dated only to go to a school function. And that was maybe twice a year.
Through the years, things didn’t improve a bit. We could not lie in bed "sick", like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache, a hang nail or serious ailment, they could stay home from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends’ report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother, being as different as she was, would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks.
As the years rolled by, first one and the other of us was put to shame. We were graduated from high school. With our mother behind us, talking, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the pleasure of being a drop-out.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us have ever been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom do we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You’re right, our mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a protest parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a million and one other things that our friends did.
She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults. Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three children. I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean.
Because, you see, I thank God He gave me the meanest mother in the whole world.
A Question For Mothers:
In a moment I’m going to read another story, this one from Scripture, but just before I do that I want to ask a question of those of you who are mothers: is it all worth it?
I read a whole bunch of stories, looking for some to share with you this morning, and saw in them once again the sacrifice, the work, the challenge, the sadness and heartbreak, that naturally comes when a woman gives birth to a child and then invests her entire life in caring for and giving to that new life. Those of you who are mothers know what I’m talking about, in a far deeper way than I can even imagine: is it worth it?
The Story of Hanna: (1 Samuel 1)
1There was a man named Elkanah who lived in Ramah in the hill country of Ephraim. He was the son of Jeroham and grandson of Elihu, from the family of Tohu and the clan of Zuph. 2Elkanah had two wives, Hannah and Peninnah. Peninnah had children, while Hannah did not.
3Each year Elkanah and his family would travel to Shiloh to worship and sacrifice to the LORD Almighty at the Tabernacle. The priests of the LORD at that time were the two sons of Eli--Hophni and Phinehas. 4On the day Elkanah presented his sacrifice, he would give portions of the sacrifice to Peninnah and each of her children. 5But he gave Hannah a special portion because he loved her very much, even though the LORD had given her no children. 6But Peninnah made fun of Hannah because the LORD had closed her womb. 7Year after year it was the same--Peninnah would taunt Hannah as they went to the Tabernacle. Hannah would finally be reduced to tears and would not even eat.
8"What’s the matter, Hannah?" Elkanah would ask. "Why aren’t you eating? Why be so sad just because you have no children? You have me--isn’t that better than having ten sons?"
9Once when they were at Shiloh, Hannah went over to the Tabernacle after supper to pray to the LORD. Eli the priest was sitting at his customary place beside the entrance. 10Hannah was in deep anguish, crying bitterly as she prayed to the LORD. 11And she made this vow: "O LORD Almighty, if you will look down upon my sorrow and answer my prayer and give me a son, then I will give him back to you. He will be yours for his entire lifetime, and as a sign that he has been dedicated to the LORD, his hair will never be cut."
12As she was praying to the LORD, Eli watched her. 13Seeing her lips moving but hearing no sound, he thought she had been drinking. 14"Must you come here drunk?" he demanded. "Throw away your wine!"
15"Oh no, sir!" she replied, "I’m not drunk! But I am very sad, and I was pouring out my heart to the LORD. 16Please don’t think I am a wicked woman! For I have been praying out of great anguish and sorrow."
17"In that case," Eli said, "cheer up! May the God of Israel grant the request you have asked of him."
18"Oh, thank you, sir!" she exclaimed. Then she went back and began to eat again, and she was no longer sad.
19The entire family got up early the next morning and went to worship the LORD once more. Then they returned home to Ramah. When Elkanah slept with Hannah, the LORD remembered her request, 20and in due time she gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel, for she said, "I asked the LORD for him."
21The next year Elkanah, Peninnah, and their children went on their annual trip to offer a sacrifice to the LORD. 22But Hannah did not go. She told her husband, "Wait until the baby is weaned. Then I will take him to the Tabernacle and leave him there with the LORD permanently."
23"Whatever you think is best," Elkanah agreed. "Stay here for now, and may the LORD help you keep your promise." So she stayed home and nursed the baby.
24When the child was weaned, Hannah took him to the Tabernacle in Shiloh. They brought along a three-year-old bull for the sacrifice and half a bushel of flour and some wine. 25After sacrificing the bull, they took the child to Eli. 26"Sir, do you remember me?" Hannah asked. "I am the woman who stood here several years ago praying to the LORD. 27I asked the LORD to give me this child, and he has given me my request. 28Now I am giving him to the LORD, and he will belong to the LORD his whole life." And they worshiped the LORD there.
… (chapter 2)
18Now Samuel, though only a boy, was the LORD’s helper. He wore a linen tunic just like that of a priest. 19Each year his mother made a small coat for him and brought it to him when she came with her husband for the sacrifice. 20Before they returned home, Eli would bless Elkanah and his wife and say, "May the LORD give you other children to take the place of this one she gave to the LORD." 21And the LORD gave Hannah three sons and two daughters. Meanwhile, Samuel grew up in the presence of the LORD.
It was worth it for Hanna:
This is an amazing story of God’s answer to prayer, of a husband’s sensitivity, and of a mother’s gift.
Hannah, in her grief and anguished request, made a promise to God: “O LORD Almighty, if you will look down upon my sorrow and answer my prayer and give me a son, then I will give him back to you.” (vs 11). And then she kept that promise, as we saw.
I cannot begin to imagine how hard that would have been for Hannah – after finally getting pregnant, finally having a child, to then take him at a young age and leave him at the temple. But she did it.
And as she does, she speaks some powerful words: “27I asked the LORD to give me this child, and he has given me my request. 28Now I am giving him to the LORD, and he will belong to the LORD his whole life.” And she gives Samuel back to the Lord.
The Cycle:
There is a cycle to this story, which I want to point out because whatever the details of our lives, the cycle is often the same.
The story begins in pain – in the pain of barrenness and of rivalry and insult. There is a bright spot in the tenderness of Elkanah, Hanna’s husband, but the first part of the story is one of anguish and tears and heartache. Often, the same is true for us – ours is a story that begins in pain.
And then comes the misguided response from one of God’s servants – Eli thinks Hanna is drunk and chastises her! Sometimes that happens to us, also, when people do not understand our hurt, and say something that comes across as judgmental or harsh.
Next is Hanna’s response – she is open and honest – she clarifies the misunderstanding, corrects the facts, and gets a better response. This is one of the turning points in the story – she could have gone away hurt, and gotten bitter, and hated Eli for his lack of sensitivity, but instead she speaks the truth, shares her hurt, and receives Eli’s blessing. It is a critical point for us in our stories as well – to choose to speak the truth to someone who has said something hurtful, so that the relationship can go forward and not get stuck on one inappropriate comment.
Following the blessing, Hanna chooses to believe. Another critical turning point – she believes that her prayer was heard, and she believes God for the answer.
Next she has to wait. We don’t know how long, but it was at least several months. Verse 20 says, “in due time”… And as she waited, she had to keep believing. That waiting can be difficult, don’t you agree? The “believing” that God heard her cry is the source of strength through that waiting period.
Then, in God’s time, comes the answer to the prayer – the pregnancy, the birth, the infant and likely toddler years – no doubt wonderful, vindicating, happy years of joy. And through all of those good times, Hanna never forgets her promise – which she then keeps by bringing Samuel to the temple to serve God.
Are you somewhere on that cycle? Hurting? – then cry out to God. Struggling with a poor response from someone who should know better? – then clarify the misunderstanding, forgive, and restore the relationship. Do you need to choose to believe the promises of God, even in the waiting? Or has God already brought the answer, and now is the time for you to just enjoy, and keep your promises of obedience to God?
Conclusion:
Here is the thought I’d like to leave you with this morning: God gives good gifts, and we need to remember that they are God’s and cherish them as God’s. Hanna’s son was a good gift of God, and was cherished.
I think that simple thought could transform our relationships. What would it be like if all of our marriages were permeated with that perspective – that our spouses are good gifts of God, which belong not to us but to God, and are entrusted to us to love and care for? What would it be like if all of our family relationships, us to our parents, us to our children, were filled with this same attitude – that each of those people are good gifts of God to us, to be cherished and loved and cared for and to always remember that they belong to God and have been given to us as gifts?
Let me leave you with a challenge: find one way to communicate to someone important to you, like your mother or your spouse or your child, that you recognize that they are a gift of God in your life, and that you cherish them. Then show them in word and in deed.
