1 Samuel
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Saul was the people’s choice. Tall. Impressive. The kind of man you’d expect to win a battle or charm a crowd. And at first, it looked like they chose well.
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Today is the day I’ve been dreading and awaiting for the past fifteen months. It’s the day I officially learned my job has been eliminated. And not only did I learn it—I had to announce it to hundreds of my colleagues.
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It’s the psalm I’ve dreaded and needed. Because Psalm 51 isn’t just words—it’s a confession soaked in tears. A man finally undone. A king exposed. No more cover-up. No more excuses. Just David, face-down in the wreckage of his sin, begging for mercy.
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It didn’t start with thunder. It started with stillness. And then one night, the silence broke. Not with spectacle. But with a whisper.
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Some prayers come from a place so raw that words barely form. You just groan. Ache. Hold your breath and hope heaven hears. Hannah prayed like that. Not with polished phrases. Not with a carefully curated list of requests. Just desperate, brokenhearted surrender. And God answered. But the most striking part of Hannah’s story isn’t…
