1 Samuel 1:8

Letters to the Faithful - 1 Samuel 1:8

Berean Standard Bible

“Hannah, why are you crying?” her husband Elkanah asked. “Why won’t you eat? Why is your heart so grieved? Am I not better to you than ten sons?”

King James Bible

Then said Elkanah her husband to her, Hannah, why weepest thou? and why eatest thou not? and why is thy heart grieved? am not I better to thee than ten sons?

Hebrew Text:

וַיֹּ֨אמֶר לָ֜הּ אֶלְקָנָ֣ה אִישָׁ֗הּ חַנָּה֙ לָ֣מֶה תִבְכִּ֗י וְלָ֙מֶה֙ לֹ֣א תֹֽאכְלִ֔י וְלָ֖מֶה יֵרַ֣ע לְבָבֵ֑ךְ הֲלֹ֤וא אָֽנֹכִי֙ טֹ֣וב לָ֔ךְ מֵעֲשָׂרָ֖ה בָּנִֽים׃

Transliteration:

Vayyómer lah Elqanáh isháh, Channáh, lamáh tivkí, velamáh lo to'khlí, velamáh yéra levávekh? Haló anokhí tov lakh me'asaráh baním.

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Hannah, why are you crying?

Elkanah's question to Hannah highlights her deep emotional distress. In the cultural context of ancient Israel, a woman's worth was often tied to her ability to bear children. Hannah's barrenness would have been a source of great shame and sorrow. This question reflects Elkanah's concern but also his lack of understanding of the depth of Hannah's pain. The Bible often portrays God as attentive to the cries of the heartbroken, as seen in Psalm 34:18, which states that the Lord is close to the brokenhearted.

her husband Elkanah asked.

Elkanah is depicted as a caring husband who loves Hannah despite her inability to bear children. His role as a Levite and a man of faith is significant, as he regularly worships and sacrifices at Shiloh. His concern for Hannah's well-being is evident, yet he may not fully grasp the cultural and personal implications of her barrenness. Elkanah's character can be compared to other biblical figures who show compassion, such as Boaz in the Book of Ruth.

Why won’t you eat?

In ancient Near Eastern culture, feasting was a communal activity, often associated with religious festivals and family gatherings. Hannah's refusal to eat indicates her deep sorrow and possibly her participation in a form of fasting, a practice seen throughout Scripture as a means of seeking God's intervention (e.g., Esther 4:16). Her abstention from food underscores the intensity of her grief and her focus on prayer.

Why is your heart so grieved?

The heart in biblical terms often represents the center of emotions and will. Hannah's grief is not just emotional but spiritual, as she longs for a child to fulfill her role as a mother. Her grief can be seen as a precursor to her fervent prayer in the temple, where she pours out her soul to God (1 Samuel 1:10-11). This mirrors the biblical theme of God responding to the cries of His people, as seen in the stories of Hagar (Genesis 21:16-19) and the Israelites in Egypt (Exodus 3:7).

Am I not better to you than ten sons?

Elkanah's question reveals his attempt to console Hannah by emphasizing his love and devotion to her. The reference to "ten sons" signifies completeness and abundance, as the number ten often symbolizes in Scripture. However, Elkanah's question also highlights a misunderstanding of Hannah's cultural and personal longing for children. This phrase can be compared to the biblical theme of God's sufficiency, where God's presence and love are portrayed as more fulfilling than earthly desires (Psalm 73:25-26).

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1 Samuel 1:8, which reads in the New International Version, “Her husband Elkanah would say to her, ‘Hannah, why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?’” captures a deeply personal and emotionally charged moment in the narrative of 1 Samuel, revealing the dynamics of human relationships, societal pressures, and theological themes within the context of Hannah’s barrenness and her longing for a child. This verse, situated early in the book, sets the stage for Hannah’s pivotal role in Israel’s history as the mother of Samuel, the prophet and judge. To fully unpack its significance, we must explore its linguistic nuances, historical and cultural context, narrative function, and theological implications, considering its place within 1 Samuel and the broader biblical narrative, as well as its resonance for both the original audience and contemporary readers.

The verse begins with Elkanah’s direct address to his wife, Hannah, who is weeping and refusing to eat due to her inability to bear children and the provocation of her rival, Peninnah, Elkanah’s other wife (1 Samuel 1:6–7). The repetition of Elkanah’s questions—“Why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted?”—reflects both his concern and his attempt to understand Hannah’s distress. In Hebrew, these questions use a rhetorical structure (lamah, “why”) that conveys urgency and empathy, emphasizing Elkanah’s emotional engagement with his wife’s suffering. The phrase “why are you downhearted” (literally, “why is your heart bad,” lamah yera lebabek) suggests a deep emotional turmoil, with the Hebrew term lebab (heart) indicating the seat of emotions and will. Elkanah’s inquiries reveal a husband who is attentive but perhaps limited in his ability to fully grasp the depth of Hannah’s pain, shaped by the cultural weight of barrenness in ancient Israel.

In the ancient Near Eastern context, particularly in Israel during the period of the judges (circa 12th–11th century BCE), barrenness was not merely a personal tragedy but a social stigma. Children, especially sons, were essential for economic security, inheritance, and the continuation of the family line (e.g., Genesis 15:2–3). For a woman, the inability to bear children could result in diminished status and vulnerability, particularly in a polygamous household where rivalry between wives was common, as seen with Peninnah’s taunting (1 Samuel 1:6). Hannah’s refusal to eat during the family’s annual pilgrimage to Shiloh, the religious center where they offered sacrifices, underscores the depth of her grief, as eating sacrificial meals was a communal act of worship and joy (Deuteronomy 12:7). Elkanah’s questions, then, reflect not only personal concern but also an awareness of the social and religious implications of Hannah’s withdrawal.

The final part of the verse, “Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?” is particularly striking for its emotional and theological complexity. In Hebrew, the phrase is halo ani tov lach me’asarah banim, where tov (“better”) and me’asarah banim (“than ten sons”) use hyperbolic language to emphasize Elkanah’s value to Hannah. The number “ten” in Hebrew often symbolizes completeness or abundance (e.g., Genesis 31:7), suggesting that Elkanah is offering himself as more than sufficient to fill the void of her childlessness. This statement can be read in multiple ways. On one hand, it reflects genuine affection and an attempt to console Hannah by affirming his love and commitment, especially since the text notes that Elkanah gave Hannah a double portion of the sacrificial offering because he loved her (1 Samuel 1:5). On the other hand, it may reveal a degree of misunderstanding, as Elkanah’s words could imply that his presence should compensate for Hannah’s unfulfilled longing, potentially minimizing the cultural and personal significance of her barrenness. For a woman in Hannah’s position, no amount of spousal love could fully replace the social and spiritual fulfillment of motherhood in that context.

Narratively, 1 Samuel 1:8 serves as a critical moment in establishing Hannah’s character and setting up the story’s trajectory. The verse comes after the exposition of the family’s dynamics—Elkanah’s two wives, Hannah’s barrenness, and Peninnah’s provocation—and immediately before Hannah’s decisive action of praying fervently at the tabernacle (1 Samuel 1:9–11). Elkanah’s questions highlight Hannah’s isolation and despair, contrasting with her later resolve to pour out her soul to God. The verse also introduces a subtle tension in the marriage, as Elkanah’s well-meaning but possibly inadequate response contrasts with Hannah’s direct appeal to God, foreshadowing her agency and faith. This moment sets the stage for the birth of Samuel, who will bridge the chaotic period of the judges and the rise of the monarchy, making Hannah’s personal story integral to Israel’s national history.

Theologically, the verse underscores themes of human limitation and divine provision. Elkanah’s inability to fully alleviate Hannah’s pain points to the limits of human solutions in the face of deep longing. His question, while affectionate, cannot address the spiritual and emotional weight of Hannah’s barrenness, which only God’s intervention will resolve (1 Samuel 1:19–20). This aligns with a recurring biblical motif where God acts on behalf of the marginalized or afflicted, particularly barren women, as seen with Sarah (Genesis 21:1–2), Rebekah (Genesis 25:21), and Rachel (Genesis 30:22). The reference to Shiloh as the setting (1 Samuel 1:3) also situates the narrative in a sacred context, where God’s presence is sought, hinting that Hannah’s resolution will come through divine encounter rather than human consolation. For the original audience, likely Israelites during the early monarchy or post-exilic period, this story would affirm God’s attentiveness to individual suffering within the larger framework of His covenant with Israel.

Culturally, the verse reflects the patriarchal structures of ancient Israel while subtly elevating Hannah’s agency. Elkanah’s role as the head of the household is evident in his initiative to speak and his annual leadership in worship at Shiloh. Yet, his question about “ten sons” may inadvertently highlight the societal pressure on women to define their worth through motherhood, a pressure Hannah internalizes. Her response—moving from weeping to prayer—demonstrates resilience and faith, positioning her as a model of piety for later generations. For contemporary readers, the verse invites reflection on the complexities of supporting loved ones through grief, the societal expectations that shape personal identity, and the ways in which faith can empower individuals to act in the face of despair.

Literarily, 1 Samuel 1:8 is a masterstroke of emotional and dramatic pacing. The threefold questioning mirrors the intensity of Hannah’s grief, while the final question shifts the tone from inquiry to reassurance, creating a rhythm that draws readers into the characters’ emotional world. The direct speech lends immediacy, making Elkanah’s voice vivid and relatable. The verse’s placement between the description of Hannah’s suffering and her prayer creates a narrative pivot, highlighting the transition from despair to hope. The use of “ten sons” as a hyperbolic expression adds a touch of tenderness and exaggeration, humanizing Elkanah while subtly exposing his limitations.

In conclusion, 1 Samuel 1:8 is a richly layered verse that captures the interplay of human compassion, societal pressures, and theological hope. Through Elkanah’s questions and Hannah’s silent suffering, it portrays a marriage marked by love yet strained by unmet longing, setting the stage for Hannah’s transformative encounter with God. The verse invites readers to empathize with Hannah’s pain, recognize the limits of human consolation, and anticipate God’s redemptive work. For the original audience, it underscored God’s faithfulness in Israel’s history; for modern readers, it speaks to the enduring human experience of longing, the complexities of relationships, and the power of faith to seek God in moments of deepest need.

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To all who are called by the name of Jesus Christ, scattered across every land, sustained by grace and appointed for hope eternal—greetings in the steadfast love of God our Father and the peace of our Lord Jesus Christ.

I write to you today with a heart mindful of the many burdens that weigh upon the people of God. Life under the sun is filled with seasons of joy and seasons of sorrow. The Scriptures do not hide this reality from us but rather invite us to walk honestly before the Lord, trusting His unchanging goodness in all things.

Let us turn our attention to a tender moment recorded in the book of 1 Samuel, where Elkanah speaks to his beloved wife, Hannah, saying: “Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?” (1 Samuel 1:8)

These words come from a place of love, yet they expose the deep ache of a heart longing for what has not yet come to pass. Hannah’s barrenness was a source of grief and shame in her culture—a burden she carried year after year. Though greatly loved by her husband, her soul remained unsettled, her longing unfulfilled. In this moment, her sorrow was not easily comforted by human words, however well-intentioned they were.

Beloved, how many among us live with similar burdens? Though surrounded by love, though blessed in many ways, there remain in our hearts certain longings, certain prayers that seem unanswered, certain griefs that cannot be dismissed by a kind word or even by the assurance of other blessings. The story of Hannah reminds us that the life of faith is not one where all desires are immediately satisfied, nor where every tear is instantly dried. Rather, it is a life marked by perseverance, by pouring out our hearts before the Lord, and by trusting His timing and His wisdom.

Elkanah’s words, though affectionate, reveal a common human tendency: to try to soothe sorrow by pointing to existing blessings, rather than entering into the depth of another’s grief. We do well to remember that when our brothers and sisters weep, our first calling is not to explain away their sorrow or to remind them of what they still have, but to walk with them in compassion and patience. We are to bear one another’s burdens, not to minimize them.

And to those who, like Hannah, carry deep longings or griefs that others may not fully understand—I say this to you in the love of Christ: your sorrow is seen by the Lord. Your tears are not wasted. Though human comfort may fall short, the God of all comfort draws near to the brokenhearted. Do not be ashamed of your longing, nor of your tears. Bring them boldly to the throne of grace, as Hannah did, pouring out your soul before the Lord.

It is written that after this moment of deep prayer, Hannah’s countenance was no longer sad—not because her circumstances had yet changed, but because she had entrusted her longing into the hands of her faithful God. Herein lies a great lesson for us all: peace does not always come from the fulfillment of our desires, but from the surrender of our hearts into the love and sovereignty of God.

Therefore, I exhort you, beloved: do not grow weary in prayer. The delay of an answer is not the denial of God’s love. He is working in ways you cannot yet see, shaping you in the waiting, preparing you to receive His gifts with a heart attuned to His glory. And know this—sometimes the very place of your deepest sorrow becomes the soil of your greatest testimony. For out of Hannah’s barrenness came Samuel, a prophet through whom God would speak to a nation.

Let us also take to heart the relational wisdom this passage imparts. In our families, in our friendships, in our churches, let us practice compassion rather than correction, presence rather than platitudes. When someone grieves, let us sit with them in the spirit of Christ, who is the Man of Sorrows, acquainted with grief. Let us learn to listen more than we speak and to pray more than we presume.

Finally, may we all remember that our ultimate hope is not in any earthly fulfillment—not in children, not in achievements, not in relationships, not even in answered prayers—but in Christ Himself, who is more than ten thousand blessings. He alone satisfies the deepest hunger of the soul. When all else is stripped away, He remains our portion forever.

Yet this truth does not negate our human desires; it redeems them. As we entrust every longing to Him, we are transformed—not into people who no longer care, but into people who hope in God above all else. This is the posture of faith that pleases the Lord and gives rest to the heart.

So take courage, dear brothers and sisters. Whatever sorrow you carry, whatever longing you lift before the Lord, know that He is near. He hears. He remembers. And He will act in His perfect time and way. Until then, let us walk together in love, bearing one another’s burdens and pointing one another continually to the unshakeable hope we have in Jesus Christ.

May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. May He sustain you in every season of waiting, and may His steadfast love be your song in the night.

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Eternal Father, God of compassion and God of all comfort, we bow before You this day, recognizing that You are near to the brokenhearted and attentive to every cry of Your people. You see the depths of our souls and know the longings that we carry—those spoken and unspoken, those shared with others and those known only to You. We bless You that You are not a distant God, but One who draws near, who invites us to come boldly to Your throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Lord, we are mindful of the tender moment recorded in Your Word when Elkanah spoke to his beloved wife Hannah, saying: “Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?” In this brief exchange we see both the love of a husband and the ache of a soul not easily comforted. We see a grief that cannot be dismissed by words alone. And we remember that You, O God, are the One who truly understands the sorrows of the heart.

Today, Lord, we lift before You all who are burdened by unanswered prayers and unfulfilled longings. We pray for those who, like Hannah, carry within them a yearning that persists year after year—a longing for a child, for healing, for restoration, for reconciliation, for purpose, for hope renewed. For all who weep in secret and who struggle to lift their heads, for those who find it difficult to rejoice while carrying hidden grief, we ask for Your tender mercy.

We acknowledge that in our human frailty, we often seek to soothe or explain away the sorrow of others, as Elkanah did with words that, though loving, could not ease Hannah’s pain. Forgive us, Lord, when we have spoken hastily or failed to enter into the grief of those around us. Teach us the way of true compassion, that we might walk alongside the hurting with gentleness and patience, bearing their burdens with them in love.

And for those who carry the burden of longing today, Father, grant them grace to pour out their hearts before You, as Hannah did. Teach us that there is no shame in bringing our tears to You, no weakness in our weeping before Your throne. Let us find in You a safe refuge where we can express the deepest cries of our souls. May the act of surrendering our longings into Your sovereign hands bring a peace that surpasses understanding, even before answers come.

Lord, remind us that peace does not come solely from fulfilled desires, but from trusting in Your goodness and Your timing. Help us to rest in the truth that You see the end from the beginning, that You are wise and kind in all Your ways, and that no prayer uttered in faith is forgotten by You. Strengthen those who wait, and renew their hope. Let Your steadfast love anchor their hearts, even when the path ahead remains unclear.

We pray also, Father, that You would make us a community marked by compassion and grace. In our homes, in our churches, in our friendships, may we create space for lament as well as for rejoicing. Let us be slow to speak and quick to listen. May we learn to weep with those who weep and to rejoice with those who rejoice, bearing one another’s burdens as Christ has borne ours.

And for all of us, Lord—whether we are in a season of abundance or a season of waiting—teach us to treasure Christ above all earthly blessings. May we find our ultimate joy and satisfaction not in the gifts You give, but in You, the Giver. For You alone are the portion of our inheritance and our cup; You hold our future secure.

Finally, Father, we thank You for the example of Hannah, who, through her perseverance and faith, became a vessel through whom You accomplished great things. We pray that You would likewise redeem our sorrows and use them for Your glory. May the very places of our deepest longing become testimonies of Your faithfulness and love. And whether in fulfillment or in the grace to endure, may our lives continually point to the goodness of our God.

We offer this prayer in the name of Jesus Christ, our faithful High Priest, who intercedes for us and who knows our sorrows fully. To Him be glory in the Church and in all generations, forever and ever. Amen.