Hezekiah didn’t get a vague sense of dread—he got a clear word of impending death. “Thus says the Lord: Set your house in order, for you shall die.” But in that moment, he didn’t argue. He didn’t delay. He turned his face to the wall—not to the court, not to his advisors—and he wept before God.

Hannah’s grief was not performative. She didn’t gather a crowd or deliver eloquent words. She sat in the presence of God—weeping, whispering, barely forming audible sound. And still, God heard her.