“As she prayed before the Lord, Eli observed her mouth. Hannah was speaking in her heart, only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard…’I am a woman troubled in spirit… I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord…I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation.” (from 1 Samuel 1:12-16, ESV)

I, Hannah, am troubled in spirit because YHWH sees it just to curse me. Of course He is just, and as I plead my case before His throne, all around me think me drunk. Have they never stood in this same place before YHWH, do they not understand? My voice fails me, for my spirit lies broken. It is all my heart can muster to gather up the shards of my shattered heart and pour them out in the presence of the Lord. My heart is heavy, I am pierced daily by His arrows. I am too desperate now to hide at the doorway of the tabernacle… I stagger in as one drunk with wine because of weight my soul bears and bare that weight to the Lord

I fall to my face, drunk with misery, but constant in faith. YHWH, is it some hidden sin? Why do You not uncover it that I may confess and be restored? All night long I have sought You. My legs no longer bear me up, and my knees ache from the stone I have beseeched You upon. Now I lie on my face before You as one dead… I await the strength of Your spirit, for I cannot go on with all I have. YHWH let me sink into this floor and be swallowed up by Your Earth, that my misery may perish into Your glory.

Elkanah does not understand, Father, why I cannot eat the love offering he brings to me after sacrificing to You. I cannot accept his favor, because my soul is sick with mourning. I am accursed, how can I take joy in him? YHWH, cause him to remember my love, it has not diminished… I lack any strength but to lie here in Your presence and long for Your favor. Have mercy on me, O Almighty G-D.

Footsteps. Accusation of drunkenness.

Yes, I am drunk, with the misery that comes from a broken heart, a longing for favor of the Lord which He refuses. His silence is like death, tearing my heart to pieces.

It is just the priest trying to keep the temple clear of rabble.

I have become temple rabble, rubbish… I have let my appearance go, I look as one in mourning, my flesh has wasted away with mourning, the color has left my sin. Without YHWH’s favor, I cannot go on. Lord, turn Your face in favor upon Your servant lest I leave the beauty of Your world. Let me die or give me life, but do not abandon me to this perpetuating misery.

The priest sees YHWH while I cannot and conveys His heart to me.
“Go in peace; YHWH has heard and will answer.”

I lift my face from the stone… I leave the temple. The embers of hope in my heart were stirred… I think I feel a warmth of hope; maybe I can eat now.