Peace When You Need It Most
I found myself clenching my fists—again. My daughter was confused about her math lesson and was asking for help; my son needed my attention right now. I was trying to finish up the dishes as my mind swirled. I needed to pay our quarterly taxes, the car desperately needed an oil change, I hadn’t replied to an important email in three days, I had no idea what to make for dinner, my daughter needed new ballet tights, I should work with my son on his letter recognition, my husband had asked me to fix a button on his coat, my mom had asked me to email her a file, our small group was waiting for a text from me, I was cutting it close with a deadline for work, my Tuesday babysitter had canceled, and my best friend was sick and I’d promised to drop off dinner this week.
My breath started to come in small bursts. Pain pulsed at the back of my neck.
I felt overwhelmed.
Standing in my kitchen on that particular Monday, nothing was an immediate emergency. But the minutiae of needs threatened to pull me under.
Had I been able to step back from the moment emotionally, I could have tried all manner of potentially helpful things: I could have reminded myself to just do the next thing well. I could have reminded myself that there are women across the globe raising their own children and making do with much, much less. I could have calmly unclenched my fists and explained the math lesson again. I could have helped my son find his lost action figure.
But I did the only thing I had the wherewithal to do in that moment. I stepped into the bathroom and prayed.
My children weren’t asking for anything wrong or bad—they rightfully needed my time, attention, and care. Making dinner, working from home, paying taxes—these are things I can do—and willingly do—for our family. But sometimes, on some days, the weight of everything overwhelms me in a wave of anxiety and fear. I worry that I’ll never be good enough to hold the proverbial ship together. I worry that it will never all get done and that the dishes will perpetually pile in the sink. I worry that I’m not doing right by my kids, that I’m failing them because of my own brokenness and sin. I’m overwhelmed by all that’s required of me and the ways that I inevitably fail.
That’s why I stepped into the bathroom—the only quiet place to go for a moment—to ask God for his peace.
A Biblical Model for Praying When We’re Overwhelmed
Hannah, our biblical sister from the book of 1 Samuel, is a woman who encourages me to pray when I’m feeling overwhelmed.
Hannah was the barren wife of Elkanah, a man who had a second wife named Peninnah. Peninnah had birthed children and was spiteful toward Hannah, knowing that Elkanah loved her more—and so she rubbed Hannah’s infertility in her face as often as she could.[1]
On one of the family’s yearly trips to the temple to make sacrifices, Hannah found herself crushed by her unfulfilled dreams of motherhood and Peninnah’s incessant taunting. Surely she had been praying for years that the Lord would open her womb. Surely Peninnah’s provocation was nothing new. But for some reason, on this particular trip in this particular year, Hannah was overwhelmed by her circumstances.
And so, Hannah left the family meal and went—by herself—to pray. The Scripture tells us that this was no formal prayer: “She was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly” (1 Sam. 1:10). She prayed “out of…great anxiety and vexation” (1 Sam. 1:16).
Hannah shows us that honest, in-the-moment prayer with God is not something that needs to be sterile and sweet. It need not be done in a particular way or offered with the best kinds of words. Instead, Hannah’s display in front of the temple is one of desperation. She is a woman who is utterly desperate for God to help her—and she does not hide her need from him.
The God Who Meets Us with His Peace
Thankfully, the Lord does not despise the prayers that come from an honest heart—he welcomes them. In fact, it is in the place of honest prayer that God meets us with his peace. Whether we are in deep soul distress or dealing with daily frustrations, our Lord is the one who encounters his people as we cry out to him. We see this in the life of Hannah in front of the temple, as well as in the lives of multiple other saints recorded in Scripture who cried to the Lord. All of them—including Habakkuk, Elijah, Moses, Paul, and Jesus himself—were met in their need by God’s comfort and peace.
Hannah poured out her heart and encountered a priest at the temple who blessed her. When she rose from her prayer, “her face was no longer sad” (1 Sam. 1:18). As we pour out our hearts to God in prayer in the middle of our own overwhelm—whether we are kneeling at the front of our church or grabbing a moment of silence in our bathroom—we can walk away from our prayer with a soul at peace. Why? Because we have been blessed by the true High Priest, Christ himself.[2] Through his death and resurrection, and through the indwelling Holy Spirit, we have access to the peace that Christ provides, enabling us to live with souls at rest in this troubling world.[3]
Hannah models, for us, the words that Paul writes to the church in Philippi—truth that we can take with us into any circumstance in which we need Christ’s peace: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7).
A Simple Prayer
I closed the bathroom door and offered the Lord the only words I could find. Lord, I’m overwhelmed. I don’t even fully know why, but I feel anxiety and fear creeping into my heart. Please help me, God. I need your help to love my kids and parent them well. I need your wisdom for what to tackle next. Please help me walk in your peace. Amen.
And then, with a deep breath, I stepped back out into math problems and lost action figures, into taxes and work deadlines. And although nothing changed externally that day, my heart could be at rest. Christ’s peace was waiting for me at every turn.
[1] 1 Samuel 1:4-7
[2] Hebrews 4:14
[3] John 14:27
