Hannah’s Tears and God’s Comfort: Mourning for What You Don’t Have (And Finding Peace in Matthew 5:4)

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Ah, Hannah. The poster child for “I didn’t get what I wanted, and it hurts.” We all have those moments—when life doesn’t look anything like we thought it would. You pray, you hope, you plan, and still…nothing. It’s like ordering something online, eagerly waiting for it to show up at your door, and when it finally arrives, it’s not what you expected. “Great, God, thank you for this wonderful, heartbreaking nothing.”

We’ve all been there. And so was Hannah.

Hannah’s story is one of those Biblical tear-jerkers (you can find it in 1 Samuel 1). She desperately wanted a child. It wasn’t just a casual “Oh, it’d be nice to be a mom someday,” kind of thing. No, this was a deep, gut-wrenching, pray-until-you-lose-your-voice kind of desire. She wanted it badly. And year after year, she watched other women cradle their babies while she got… nothing. Zero. Nada.

To make matters worse, her husband’s other wife (yes, polygamy—yikes—but let’s stay focused) loved to rub it in. Can you imagine the dinner conversations? “Oh, another one of my kids spilled their milk again. Hannah, wouldn’t you know exactly how that feels? Oh wait…”

So, Hannah did what anyone who’s at the end of their rope would do. She cried her eyes out before God. She sobbed so hard that the priest, Eli, thought she was drunk. Imagine your pastor seeing you in the prayer corner after church and whispering, “Sister, you okay? Or should we call you an Uber?” Awkward. ut here’s where things turn: God heard her. He comforted her in her mourning, even before her prayer was answered. And this brings us to Matthew 5:4.

In Matthew 5:4, Jesus drops a truth bomb that goes against everything we naturally think. He says, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Wait—blessed? Really? Who feels blessed while mourning? It’s like saying, “Congratulations! Your heart is broken. Here’s your trophy!” It doesn’t make sense at first.

But look deeper. Jesus is pointing out that mourning has a purpose. It’s in those raw, vulnerable moments that God’s comfort meets us in a way that nothing else can. When we’re mourning over something we don’t have (like Hannah’s desire for a child or maybe your longing for a spouse, a career, or healing), we’re in the perfect position to receive His peace.

It’s like this: when everything’s fine and dandy, we might forget to depend on God. But when things go sideways, and we’re in the emotional trenches, that’s when we turn to Him. And guess what? He always shows up.

What’s awesome about Hannah’s story is that her mourning didn’t last forever. God answered her prayers by giving her a son—Samuel, no less, who became a pretty big deal in Israel. But before that happened, she found comfort in God, not just in getting what she wanted.

It’s a reminder that our worth, our peace, our identity aren’t dependent on what we have or don’t have. Whether or not your prayers get answered exactly how you want (because let’s be real, sometimes God’s answer is a solid no), God’s comfort is still there, ready and waiting.

So, what does this look like in your life? You might not be crying in a temple or having a priest tell you to sober up, but here are a few ways to mourn with hope, like Hannah:

• Cry it out. Seriously. Let the tears flow. Bottling it up only delays the healing. God can handle your raw, unfiltered emotions. He’s not afraid of your ugly cry.
• Pray it through. Like Hannah, take your grief, desires, and frustrations to God. Even if you don’t get what you want right away (or at all), praying gives you space to hand the hurt over to Him.
• Lean into God’s promises. Matthew 5:4 is a promise that comfort is coming. Maybe not in the way you expect, but it’s coming. Trust that God sees your pain and will meet you right where you are.
• Look for the blessing in the mourning. Sometimes, the greatest comfort comes in realizing God is with you even when things feel empty. That’s a powerful kind of blessed.

Hannah’s story shows us that mourning doesn’t mean the end—it’s often the beginning of something greater. God used her heartbreak to do something amazing in her life. And He can do the same for you.

So next time you feel like throwing yourself a pity party (we’ve all been there), remember that mourning has a purpose. Cry if you need to. Pray until you’re hoarse. And then, trust that the God of all comfort will meet you, bless you, and give you peace in ways you never expected.

And hey, you never know—God might just surprise you, like He did with Hannah. Keep praying, keep trusting, and most of all, keep your eyes open for the blessing that comes in the mourning.