The Barren Season
The barren season: When pain meets the presence of God
1 Samuel 1
by Sarah Lim, MPC’s Korea Director
At some point, every person walks through a barren season. There comes a time when our needs go unmet, when our prayers seem unanswered, and when pain becomes a persistent companion.
The pain is real
Peninnah had children, but Hannah had none (v 2,5). It is painful when what we long for remains out of reach. And that pain deepens when we compare ourselves with others who seem to have what we lack. Our comparing breeds jealousy, inferiority, and shame, and steals our sense of worth.
The comfort of a lover is not enough
Elkanah, her loving husband, says, “Am I not more to you than ten sons?” (v 8). Hannah’s need is deeper than what love, or even double portions, can fill. In a barren season, you may have a dear one to be loved by and to love. But still, God doesn’t answer, and no one knows this pain but you.
The enemy accuses
Hannah was provoked and mocked by her rival (v 6-7). This voice is may be inside you. We tend to respond in two ways. When the enemy seems weaker than you, you might pretend to be strong — “At least I’m more loved.” When the enemy seems stronger than you, you might pretend to be meek — “I’ll bear it; I’m the bigger person.” Neither posture brings healing—only isolation. Relationships break down.
When the answer is delayed
When God’s answer is slow, our successes feel invisible and our failures feel exaggerated. You become afraid of being exposed, afraid that others will see how small you are. We cover, and pretend to be good. “I am okay.”
Even the wise misunderstand
Even the most respected leaders can misread us. Eli saw Hannah praying and assumed she was drunk: “Put away your wine,” he said (v 14). Sometimes, people who want to help us end up hurting us, because they don’t see our pain. Maybe they don’t know the pain in their own heart. We all do this: We all criticize, we all defend ourselves. There is no one without guilt.
She wept and wept
Hannah wept bitterly (v.10). Pain brings us to the bottom of our lives. The real question is not, ”Did you hit rock bottom?” or “Did you cry hard enough?” The real question is, Did you meet God in your pain?
It is in the valley that we meet the Lord. In His presence, we face the poverty of our hearts. Before Him, we see the truth about ourselves—our sin, our brokenness, our unrighteousness. If we don’t see our poverty, we become prideful. If we only see our misery and forget God, we fall into despair.
We all want to manage our guilt, shame, and anxiety. We all carry heavy burdens. They don’t bring us to God—unless we surrender. We must lay down the impulse to fix ourselves and simply come before Him.
God remembers
God brings His promises back to our minds. Even when we feel unheard, He is the God who remembers. In His remembering, we are comforted.
God does not waste pain. He uses it to strip us, to awaken us, to draw us into His presence. In that sacred space, when we stop pretending and stop defending, we look up. We see the God who sees us, the God who hears us, and the God who remembers. And there, even in the barren season, He brings us to life.
Woodcut: Schnorr von Carolsfeld, 1860, Hannah praying for a child, for “Die Bibel in Bildern,” via Wikimedia Commons.
