A mama’s chronic pain journey leads to a new Christian children’s book
“Remember me,” prayed Hannah. Her grief and guilt of childlessness likely hung heavy on her shoulders as she asked the Lord to “take notice of your servant’s affliction” (1 Samuel 1:1-11). How many of us have found ourselves in Hannah’s prayer posture? We are hanging on by a thread and desperately need the Almighty to show up in a powerful way. I have. And He did. Though, not in the way I’d ever imagined.
I found myself in Hannah’s position of grief and sorrow three years ago. For me, it was a rare medical diagnosis involving chronic female pain. We were blessed with two babies, but doctors were unsure of how my condition would affect our ability to have more children. No one could give us straight answers. Each doctor’s appointment felt like a guessing game. Every procedure only offered false hope. If I’m honest, in that season I felt like God abandoned me.
Until that season, I had not prayed like Hannah before. Prayer that is guttural, through gritted teeth and tear-stained cheeks. “Remember me,” as Hannah so beautifully put it, sounded more like “Where in the world are you, Lord?” while I prayed.
God was silent. At times I took this to mean I’d done something wrong. Then I started to wonder if the Lord even cared. Was He even there? I wonder if Hannah ever felt similarly as “year after year” she asked the Lord for help and endured the persecution of her jeerer, Penniah.
Like Hannah, many days I would “weep and would not eat” (1 Samuel 1:7). I lost a noticeable amount of weight from the sorrow and depression. My physical pain was one struggle, but the feeling of being forgotten by God was a mental and emotional hurdle I couldn't overcome. You can be sure the enemy used these feelings to his advantage. But only for a time.
My prayers started to wane during this season. I no longer had the right words to pray. The ones I had prayed for seemed to go unheard. Then nothing I could think to say adequately told the Lord how frustrated, scared, and sad I felt. Even “remember me,” wouldn’t do. Of course, God was near and He did care. But at this moment, I was struggling to worship Him. I knew I needed a way to worship through the pain. God showed up.
It happened on a particularly difficult day. The pain was at a high and I needed a distraction. If you’ve ever dealt with chronic pain, then you know how helpful it is to get out of bed and out of the house. I took my two young children to our local library. As they played nearby, I sat with my prayer journal weeping where my kids couldn’t see. I could not write a prayer. The sorrow was too great to define.
Next thing, I looked up and noticed a cartoon lion painted on our library wall. Images of the Lord as a kingly, loving lion and myself as a helpless, lost little lamb flooded my mind. I started to draw doodles in my prayer journal.
The pictures came together before the words ever did. Zion the Lion, king of the land, remembers that one little, hopeless lamb named Ewe. I drew on.
I drew pictures of the little lamb lost in a dark forest. Feeling alone and scared, she wanders past a valley and into a desert hot and dry. Next, I drew a picture of Sneaky Snake, Zion’s enemy, who comes along and leads the lamb into a deep, dark pit. What the little lamb can’t see is that Zion the Lion is nearby in every picture. Whether it’s his shadow, footprints, or roar, the lion is always near. He never forgets Ewe (or you). And because he is standing nearby, Zion the Lion rescues Ewe the lamb from that pit at just the right time.
So partly for myself, partly for my children, and largely for the Lord, I created the children’s book Zion the Lion Loves Ewe: A Story about God’s Faithfulness. My prayer is that this simple story mirrors our Savior and his relationship with each of us. I pray this story teaches children and the caregivers who read it that the Lord is always present. He hears us even when we don’t feel or see Him. Like Hannah, God remembers us.
No matter how bleak the medical diagnosis is, the Almighty remembers you. No matter how bad the heartbreak is, the Almighty remembers you. No matter how deep the addiction, the Almighty remembers you. No matter how depressed or anxious, the Almighty remembers you.
Keep praying. Keep worshiping Him. Because I promise you, the Lord is near.
The Lord remembered Hannah. She named her firstborn baby Samuel, which means “God has heard.”
The Lord remembered me. While I’m still learning to manage chronic pain, the Lord has gotten me through and has proven He is near and He is enough. And on January 1, 2024, my husband and I are due to welcome our third child. To God be the glory.
Chelsen Vicari serves as the Evangelical Program Director for the Institute on Religion and Democracy. She earned her Masters of Arts in Government from Regent University and frequently contributes to conservative outlets. She is also the author of Distortion: How the New Christian Left is Twisting the Gospel and Damaging the Faith. Follow her on twitter @ChelsenVicari