The Hannah Spirit, Part 4: The Altar of Restraint

When Scripture tells us that Peninnah provoked Hannah sore, it doesn't tell us that Hannah provoked her back.

We don't read that she sharpened her tongue....or gathered people at her side. We don't even read that she defended herself at the table, exposed Peninnah, or tried to make everyone understand how cruel it all was.

Sometimes restraint isn't weakness.
Sometimes…it's warfare.

Hannah had every reason to respond. 

She was already carrying grief and living with an ache that she couldn't fix. Then.....her adversary kept pressing on that very place, year after year, trying to get a reaction out of her. But Hannah didn't fight flesh with flesh.

That doesn't mean that she wasn't affected. She WAS deeply affected. The Bible says she cried and didn't eat. Her restraint wasn't because she felt nothing. It was because she didn't let what she felt become permission to sin with her mouth.

THAT alone will search a heart! Because when pain gets poked....the flesh wants a turn, doesn't it? 

I know that because I haven't always had this kind of restraint.

When lies were told about me, I addressed them loud and clear. Over and over again, I advocated for myself. I defended myself until I was blue in the face. I wasn't trying to be hateful. I wasn't trying to be vicious. But when my hurt spoke, it spoke with brutal honesty, and I wanted the truth to be known.

I wanted people to understand.
I wanted the record corrected.
I wanted the lies exposed.

There’s a place for truth and clarity and there's a place for righteous confrontation. 

But I've also learned that pain can make our voice louder than our peace. Hurt can make us keep speaking long after God has already seen, already heard, and already understood.

That is where the Lord had to teach me restraint.

And honestly, I believe that work in me began in a much deeper way around the time Levi passed away.

In one of the most devastating seasons of my life, family members were accusing me of horrible things and mischaracterizing me into someone I have never been. And everything in the old version of me would have wanted to address it loud, clear, and repeatedly. I would've wanted to correct every lie, answer every accusation, and defend myself until there was nothing left to say.

But this time was different.....

I didn't respond the way I would've in the past.

I brought it to the feet of Jesus. I asked Him to deal with it. I asked Him to calm what I was feeling. I asked Him to help me not be ruled by the hurt, the injustice, or the need to be understood by people who were determined to see me wrong.  I asked Him to make it right.

That was NOT easy.

It still hurt. The lies were still lies. The mischaracterization was still wrong.  To sit back and let people hear that stuff about me without addressing it was HARD! 

But something in me was learning that I didn't have to bleed all over the table to prove I had been wounded.

I could bring it to Jesus and trust Him with what I could not fix.

That is where restraint becomes an altar!

It's the place where you lay down the right to react from the wound.

It's the place where you refuse to let someone else’s spirit pull you out of yours.

It's the place where you decide, “I may be hurting, but I will not become hateful. I may be provoked, but I won't be poisoned. I may be misunderstood, but I won't surrender my altar just to win an argument at the table.”

There is a holy discipline in knowing when not to speak.

Not every silence is fear, avoidance, or defeat.

Sometimes......silence is the sound of a woman choosing the Lord over the flesh.

Hannah DID eventually speak, but she spoke in the right place. 

She poured out her soul before the Lord. She didn't waste her deepest pain trying to convince someone committed to misunderstanding her. She carried it to the One who could actually do something with it.

That's wisdom!

Because some battles only grow when you give them your mouth.

Some fires aren't extinguished by explanation but instead fed by attention.

And, you know what I have realized?  Some people don't want understanding....they want access to your reaction.

Peninnah’s goal was to make Hannah worry and to disturb her peace. 

But Hannah’s restraint kept Peninnah from owning the story.

I think that's a big deal, don't you?

The adversary may provoke, but the adversary doesn't get to author your response.

There are seasons when the most spiritual thing you can do is not answer the poke!

And not because it doesn't hurt. Not because what happened was okay. Not because you are pretending to be above it.

But because you know that if you respond from the wound, you may say something your spirit will have to recover from later. 

Restraint isn't swallowing pain and calling it holiness.

Hannah....she didn't pretend. She didn't bury it or deny it. 

She brought it to God.

THAT'S the difference!

Suppression keeps pain trapped inside, but restraint carries it to the right altar.

A Hannah spirit doesn't mean you never cry. It doesn't mean that you never feel angry, weary, pierced, or overwhelmed. 

It means that you are learning not to let the wound drive.

It means you are learning to pause before you hand your mouth to your pain.

It means you're learning that the altar is THE BEST place for your anguish rather than the table of provocation.

There's a kind of strength that doesn't look loud at first.

It looks like rising....like walking away from the place where your pain keeps being used against you.

It looks like bringing your tears to God instead of turning them into weapons.

It looks like refusing to let someone else’s cruelty reproduce in you.

That is NOT weakness, that's consecration.

Hannah’s restraint didn't make her powerless. I truly believe that it positioned her.

Because when she finally opened her mouth at the altar, heaven heard what the household had mishandled. 

And THAT'S  what sits with me through her story.

You don't have to win every table conversation to be heard in heaven.

You don't have to defend every wound to be seen by God.

You don't even have to answer every provocation to remain strong.

Sometimes the victory is just that you didn't become what tried to break you. Can I get a loud AMEN here?! 

Sometimes.......the altar begins with a closed mouth and a poured-out soul.

THAT is the Hannah spirit.

It's not passive or powerless.

It's restrained and consecrated.

It's steady enough to know that flesh cannot heal what only God can touch...and it's wise enough to bring the battle to the altar instead of bleeding all over the table.