Hannah lifted her face to heaven, and from the depths of a once-broken heart came a song—strong, triumphant, overflowing with gratitude.
"My heart rejoices in the Lord!
He has lifted my horn high.
My mouth boasts over my enemies,
for You, O Lord, have delivered me."
Her voice rose as she declared God's unmatched holiness.
"There is no one like You—
no Rock as solid as our God."
She spoke to every proud heart and every arrogant tongue:
"Do not boast.
The Lord sees.
He weighs every deed."
The song unfolded like prophecy—strong warriors broken, the weak strengthened, the hungry satisfied, the barren woman blessed beyond measure.
"The Lord brings low and lifts up.
He gives, He takes,
He raises the poor from the ashes
and sets them among princes."
Hannah's praise ended with a glimpse of the future:
"He will give strength to His king
and lift the horn of His anointed."
When their family returned to Ramah, young Samuel remained behind, serving in the presence of the Lord under the guidance of Eli the priest.
But not all in the house of God honored Him.
Eli's sons, Hophni and Phinehas, were corrupt—men with no fear of the Lord. They took from the people's offerings whatever they wanted, even before the fat was burned. And if anyone protested, Eli's servants threatened violence.
Their sin was great, for they treated the Lord's offering with contempt.
Yet in the middle of this darkness, little Samuel stood out—a boy clothed in a linen ephod, serving with innocence and reverence. Every year, Hannah would bring him a small robe she had sewn with her own hands, a mother's love stitched into every thread.
Eli blessed Elkanah and Hannah each year.
"May the Lord give you more children to replace the one she gave to Him."
And God did. Hannah bore three sons and two daughters, while Samuel continued to grow in the presence of the Lord.
Meanwhile, rumors reached Eli—disturbing stories of his sons' immorality, how they slept with the women serving at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting. Heartbroken, he confronted them:
"Why do you do these wicked things? I hear the whispers among the Lord's people.
If a man sins against another, God may judge between them. But if a man sins against the Lord—who can plead for him?"
They ignored him. Their hearts were already hardened, and judgment from God was already set.
Yet Samuel grew—in stature, in grace, in favor with God and people alike.
Then one day, a man of God came to Eli with a message that echoed like thunder:
"Did I not choose your father's house to be priests in Israel? Why do you honor your sons more than Me? You grow fat on offerings meant for God."
The message was devastating:
"Those who honor Me, I will honor. Those who despise Me, I will despise."
God declared that Eli's house would fall—strength cut short, no old men in the family line, sorrow and loss filling their days. His descendants would struggle, begging for bread and scraps of position.
And the sign would be unmistakable:
"Your sons, Hophni and Phinehas, will die on the same day."
But hope remained in the prophecy:
"I will raise up for Myself a faithful priest—
one who carries My heart and My mind. His house I will establish forever."
And while judgment loomed over Eli's house, Samuel continued to grow—quietly, steadily—shaped by God for a destiny that would soon unfold.