Listening is something you can learn.

What it meant then

Samuel was the son Hannah had prayed for. While he was still young, she brought him to the house of the LORD at Shiloh to serve under Eli the priest (1:24–28). In those days “the word of the LORD was rare” (3:1), and Eli’s own sons were treating the LORD’s offerings with contempt (2:12–17). One night the boy hears his name and runs to Eli, three times. He “did not yet know the LORD” (3:7). It is the aging priest, whose eyes had grown dim (3:2), who finally realizes who is calling and teaches him how to answer.

For today

Samuel heard the call three times and misread it three times. He was not careless; he was eager. Each time he got up and ran. He simply did not yet know what God’s voice sounded like, so he took it for the most familiar voice in the house. Listening to God is something you learn, and even Samuel had to learn it.

Notice who helped him. Not a flawless saint, but an old priest with dim eyes and a troubled household, who was slow to catch on himself. Eli did not hand Samuel the message. He gave him a posture: go back, lie down, and if the call comes again, say, “Speak, LORD, for Your servant is listening.” And the passage does not promise that listening will be comfortable. What Samuel heard next was hard news for Eli’s family (3:11–14), and the boy was afraid to tell it (3:15).

Think of how a parent can pick out their own child’s voice across a noisy playground. That comes from years of hearing it. God’s voice is learned in a similar way: by reading Scripture slowly, by staying quiet long enough to notice, and by asking someone older in faith, “Is this God, or is this me?” You may never hear your name called in the night. But tonight you can lie down in your place, say Samuel’s words, and mean them.