Hannah’s Song

By Diane M. Houdek

It was clear. It was full of effort. You could hear her voice coming from the very back bedroom of the house. Hannah would say “Gah!” as she communicated with her brother Joshua, who was in the living room. He would then run to her and gently stroke her check and sing her name. I grew to love her. I couldn’t be quite sure of all the ponderances of her heart—only God knew—but from what I could discern from her expressions and body language as she swayed on her side and waved her arm, surely glee and delight and total contentment filled her being. I had only a small window of experience from Hannah’s life, but through her, my understanding of my being God’s daughter released me from bondages of sin and grief that only His grace could accomplish.

Let me tell you a little about Hannah’s life; and at the same time, I will tell you how the powerful hand of God changed mine through the depth of her frailties. First of all, Hannah’s name means “grace.” What a picture of love her life represented to my heart—life sustained through weakness. She was born in January 1989 with a brain tumor, which was discovered shortly after her birth. The “whys” and “hows,” to this day, remain with the Lord. All I know is that many, many things happen in life for His glory, for our refinement, and that we might know Him. Our sovereign Lord never changes His response to us: love. He never changes the fact that His desire is to glorify Himself in each of our lives, and that in His glory, each of us would be totally satisfied.

How did Hannah get this glory and grace that she so richly displayed? I, at a much later time, discovered that God’s purpose for us is first, dealing with our heart in our response to the circumstances in our lives; and second, dealing with our heart in the result of the circumstances in our lives. That is exactly what drew me to Hannah and her mother, Cristi. Cristi had joy. She had purpose. She was focused. She loved the Lord deeply, and she knew He loved her. These qualities intrigued me as I observed her faithfulness to God in the midst of these trials. Repeatedly, in the forefront of my mind, was the blaring awareness that I did not, in any form, possess qualities that made the storms of life a little more bearable. I often wondered about Hannah’s mother. How could she smile? How could she laugh? How did she know God like that? There were many things that needed to be revealed from the darkness of my past in order for me to walk in the future. I could not take my heart’s gaze off of Hannah. Something was so sweet—so amazing (amazing “grace,” perhaps?). It seemed too incredible for me to grasp, but I had to find out. So I began my pursuit of Hannah and her mother. Surely, Cristi knew the Source and Hannah held the Key.

In the first few months of Hanah’s life, her tumor was removed though many, many risks were involved. Hannah was blind, yet her eyes sparkled. Hannah’s frailties and limitations kept her from participating in any of the activities or lifestyles of her peers. As I was taking care of her one afternoon, I remember thinking, What can she possibly do for God? Almost immediately I laughed at what I had thought. The answer was so obvious, and in that moment God had revealed my true heart. I knew God loved Hannah, and therefore I understood that God must love me also. Though Hannah’s limitations grieved me, I knew from her glee and her expression of sheer delight that she had the inside track on life. I believe Hannah knew God’s love. She knew what it was to have her total existence in the hands of the master Creator. Her mother knew it too, and this gave her peace. Her peace produced joy. I saw it.

Learning what my life was all about had really just begun when I met Hannah and her family, 11 years ago. Never mind that I was 28 years old, married, and at the time, the mother of two children. I was spiritually and emotionally paralyzed. My husband and I had just moved so that he could attend seminary to become a pastor. I knew I was beyond any shadow of a doubt, a child of God. I had surrendered my life to Christ a few years earlier, but I was still very angry and depressed, and felt weak and powerless as a result of the tragic circumstances in my own childhood, and also of the consequences of my sinfulness in my adult life, even after I became a Christian. My wayward heart had betrayed the greatest blessings God had given me. The calling upon my husband’s life made me realize that I was part of that package deal with God. I encountered a very sobering moment with God, realizing that I would become a pastor’s wife; I needed rescuing in a mighty way. I didn’t know what, how, where, or when, but I told God He had some work to do in my heart.

The first important miracle God showed me is that Jesus truly did die on the cross for all my weaknesses, failures, and impurities (the Bible calls these “sin”), and that the Holy Spirit allowed circumstances in my life from very early on to help me realize I needed someone else to be in charge of my life, for all my life. The second miracle I discovered that had great importance in my life, and still does, is that God sent a wonderful, loving, forgiving, spirit-filled husband to help me begin to construct my own road to my God, my Master, and my Creator. I am here to tell you today, that I would be long dead in an icy grave—in hell for eternity—had God not intervened in my life and reconstructed my heart and my life.

My road to understanding who God is, was a rocky one, at best, with many a mud slide. I believe I stayed more dirty than clean. (I think that’s where we get the song, “Shout to the Lord”!) Being in His presence became my life-blood. Worship became, and still is, a vital part of my healing, growth, and power. Allowing God to dwell, to take up residence in the midst of what could be labeled as a tragedy, the very center of your mourning, is a very powerful tool. Your struggle may be a short one or one that seems to be lasting for an eternity. But know this most assuredly: the longer you stand in His presence, the more of His light and love will penetrate and heal. You will then hear His voice say, “Arise, My child,” and you will.

Now, I realize that Hannah’s life circumstances, at times, may have produced much grief, pain, and possibly terror. Mine did, too. I realize that Cristi and her husband and family must have asked Him why. I was there, too. But, thankfully, I didn’t stay there too long. I only know that whatever measure of faith was bestowed upon Hannah’s family (as well as my own), it was enough. They used it for God’s glory, and through Hannah, drew others a little closer to the Refiner’s Fire.

I thank God for the faith that sees beyond my present circumstances. Jeremiah 29:11 promises us that He alone has plans. He has good plans. Plans that will not harm us. And as I stand in the Refiner’s Fire, this purity of truth is revealed from Hannah’s life. It is a precious jewel that continues to reflect His perfect glory to this very day. It sustains me and refreshes me. It causes my soul to rest. Through her, God taught me that I am not required to do anything in my life to earn God’s love or approval. I learned that he first loved me. Everything I do is to be an outpouring of thankfulness to God for pursuing me, delivering me from an eternity of hell, and in the present sense delivering me from a life of bondage to sin.

As a mother and a wife--a pastor’s wife no less--there are definitely times when I feel driven to perform and to produce to keep those around me happy. I know that system. I grew up under it. It says, “if you do what I like, I will accept you, and I will be happy.” Not knowing God, I transferred this system to my relationship to Him. Gaining approval of others and meeting needs went hand in hand with my spiritual gift of mercy. I did not realize that my spiritual gift was to draw others to the Lord, not to me! And so, I still chuckle when I think of my questioning what Hannah could possibly do for God! The fear of man and ignorance of God were identified in my soul. Hannah could do nothing in the most real sense, yet she rests securely in the Father’s hand. She is full of grace and love from the incredible desire of God’s heart.

Hannah was born with the very fullness of God’s purpose. A perfect imperfection. Are we not all? My heart must daily be examined and renewed. My motive for love and service to the Lord in my marriage, my family, my church, my ministry, must bear the mark of the fire.

As a pastor’s wife, I am approached weekly for this idea and that. Is it mine to carry? Or do I rest? Do you, too, face the challenges and stressors of being overly busy? Who are you busy for? I love to be at church, but maybe there is a greater challenge of resting in the Father’s hand. It is an amazing thing to find the perfect will of God.

Perhaps you have someone like Hannah in your life. She may be in your family, your church, or in your neighborhood. You might even see her in the grocery store or at the park. Do you ignore people like her, or are you secure enough to smile and say “Hi”? I challenge you to get to know the Hannah in your life. Your life will change, your heart will change, your perspective of God will change, forever.

Sometimes I really didn’t know how exactly to respond to Hannah and her family. I remember one time just sitting on the floor and coloring a picture with Cristi. I don’t recall sharing my words that day, but I do know in my heart that just simply loving their child and seeing Hannah the way they do helped strengthen both our journeys. I learned how to say “Gah!” I am sure you can, too. God gave me a song for me to sing and pray to deepen my understanding of what He was trying to teach me through her. I pull it out of my piano bench every so often, and He is always there, reassuring me that I, too, rest in the Father’s hand. Thank you, Hannah, for being a vessel of God’s unfailing love.

Hannah went to be with Jesus in March 1995 at the age of 6. When she was still alive, I often had dreams of her running along a path that eased through a hillside of daffodils, her brown curls bouncing in the breeze. Thoughts of Hannah still fill my heart and stir me each March since she left this place. Through the world’s eyes, her life may seem nothing short of tragic, just as mine could have been. Only God sees the end from the beginning. And only God knows the moments in our lives that will bring Him indescribable glory. For Hannah, it was wrapped up in one word: “Gah!”