Match Boxes

Some of you may be wondering—what are match boxes? I know, I’m dating myself, but it’s okay. I remember a time before lighters became popular, when everyone carried around a little match box. It was small, simple, and powerful—just a flick, and you could start a fire anywhere.

But long before physical match boxes existed, God used people as spiritual ones—designed not to destroy, but to ignite. Some people are sent into your life to expose what’s really in your heart. Just like Cain and Abel, or Peninnah and Hannah.

Today, I want to talk about Peninnah—Hannah’s “match box.”

Peninnah was one of two wives. She had what Hannah didn’t—children. But the Bible says something interesting: although Hannah was barren, her husband Elkanah loved her deeply. He said to her in 1 Samuel 1:8, “Am I not better to you than ten sons?” What an oxymoron in a culture that celebrated women based on their ability to bear children—especially sons.

But Elkanah didn’t love Hannah because of what she could produce. He loved her for who she was. He didn’t hold her barrenness against her. That’s a different kind of love—one that doesn’t demand performance.

Hannah wasn’t like Rachel, who provoked Jacob to anger and said, “Give me children or I’ll die!” No. Hannah’s breaking didn’t make her bitter—it made her broken before God. And Peninnah? She was her match box.

Peninnah constantly reminded Hannah of what she lacked. The Bible says she provoked her sorely just to make her fret. Sometimes, the enemy will use people, circumstances, or even time to mock you—reminding you of what you don’t have, what hasn’t happened yet, or what should have come by now.

But the very thing the enemy uses to irritate you is often what God uses to ignite you.

Peninnah’s taunting became Hannah’s turning point. The fire of pain became the fire of prayer. What was meant to wound her became what pushed her to the altar. The enemy used Peninnah to provoke her, but God used it to produce purpose.

There’s a kind of fire that doesn’t burn you—it purifies you.

Maybe your “Peninnah” is a situation, a person, or even a disappointment. Maybe you’ve watched others birth their dreams while you’ve been waiting year after year for your own. But hear me—God hasn’t forgotten. Just like Hannah, He’s allowing that holy irritation to push you to cry out again, to believe again, and to place that desire back on His altar. Don’t let their mockery kill your desire, let it fan your flames on your altar to God.

You may feel barren in an area—naturally or spiritually—but God’s not done. The same God who opened Hannah’s womb is about to open yours. Her pain birthed a prophet. Her tears birthed Samuel—the one who would anoint kings.

You see, sometimes your match box isn’t your enemy—it’s your awakening.

God will let Peninnah talk. He’ll let the fire burn. Because He knows when the time is right, your prayer will touch heaven in a way it never has before.

Hannah didn’t fight Peninnah; she went to the temple. She didn’t retaliate; she released. And the Lord remembered her.

That’s what God is doing for you. He’s remembering the cries you’ve prayed in private. He’s seen the years of waiting and the nights of weeping. And now, that holy fire inside you is about to produce something the world has never seen.

So, thank God for the match boxes in your life. They didn’t come to destroy you—they came to ignite you.