Month: March 2012

Getting Outside of Ourselves

We all know the danger of dwelling on our own suffering. All any of us needs to do is take a short jaunt down “Me Lane” to find ourselves right in the middle of dreaded Despairville.

What if we avoided “Me Lane” altogether? What if, instead, we made a hard right turn onto “Neighbor Avenue” and took a trip to Mercyburg to visit our sisters in Christ? Think of what we would find there.

No doubt, we would run into other barren women in need of a comforting shoulder, but I think we would also discover women who suffer in the vocation of motherhood; women who pine for the independence and quietude of our own childless lives; women who suffer physical pain from birthing and caring for their precious gifts; women who fear the very gifting from God which we so desperately crave.

What if we set aside our own suffering for today and spent some time listening to those mothers, shouldering their grief and pain, praying for their strength, and tending to their physical needs? I think we would find great joy in the act of caring for our neighbor. Maybe we would even gain some insight into God’s wisdom of giving and withholding certain gifts from our own lives. At the very least, I think we would find comfort in knowing that we do not suffer alone in the body of Christ.

So, will you take a walk down “Neighbor Avenue” with me and meet my friend Rebekah? She wrote a book on the struggles of breastfeeding, and I cannot recommend it enough. I have never given birth to a child, never breastfed a baby, yet I resonated with the language of suffering in this real-life saga. I think you will, too.

And, c’mon. Just look at that title. You know there will be laughs on this trip.

The Way of Women and Laughter

In my morning devotions, I am reading about Abraham and Sarah.  Genesis 18:11 (ESV) says: “Now Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in years.  The way of women had ceased to be with Sarah.”  I chuckled when I read the phrase, “the way of women.”  I have longed to be in “the way of women” for several years. Upon reading further in Scripture, I learned that Sarah did not give birth to her son Isaac for another 25 years!  I guess my elephant wait isn’t so long after all.

25 years! A quarter of a century.  No wonder his parents named him Isaac, whose name means “he laughs.”  I’m sure that Abraham and Sarah shared a good many laughs before and after Isaac’s birth.  God really does have a sense of humor.  I’m going to do more laughing.

Collect: March 5, 2012

It is our privilege to pray with and for you.  If you would like to submit a personal petition to be included in our prayers, please send your request via the “Submit a Question” page on this site. 

Collect of the Week:

Let us pray…

O God, You see that of ourselves we have no strength. By Your mighty power defend us from all adversities that may happen to the body and from all evil thoughts that may assault and hurt the soul; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

(Lutheran Service Book, Series B, Lent 2)

More Glimpses into a Mom’s Heart

Katie’s blog has helped us all open up the lines of communication about barrenness with our spouses, friends, churches and family members. Following suit, I also sent my mom some questions about her experience having two daughters who struggle with infertility and what it was like to welcome an adopted child into the family. Her words are a glimpse into her heart, which she doesn’t often expose in an effort to be strong for her children. I believe she gives a voice to the thoughts and fears that many mothers have but are afraid to share. Thanks mom, for your honesty, compassion, and encouragement over the years. You’ve had to hold up under the strain of this as well–times two.

Watching both of my daughters suffer in their barrenness has been heart wrenching.  There is an actual physical pain in my heart when I think about it.  There is no greater joy than to carry a child inside of you and I so want that for my daughters.  I want to fix this, I want to make it go away and be better.  I’m supposed to be able to do this as a mother and I can’t.  I have two daughters that can’t conceive now and I wonder what I did during my pregnancy that caused this.  Anti-nausea drugs maybe?  There is tremendous guilt at times and yet I know that it wasn’t intentional.  I know that God is here with all of us and has wonderful plans for my girls, we just don’t know what they all are yet.

One of the blessings that has come from this experience is that I have become an adoptive grandparent. We got to meet our grandson several weeks before he was placed in our daughter’s home.  He was sweet but it felt like we were babysitting for a wonderful little boy.  During the two weeks that followed I remember feeling like I did when I was pregnant for my second child.  I thought at the time, “Will I be able to love another child as much as I do my firstborn?”  I wondered if I would be able to love an adopted child as much as my other grandchildren who were born from my son.  The second my daughter stepped into her home with my new grandson it was instant love.  I felt this tremendous overwhelming feeling of joy and thankfulness that we had this new precious baby!  It didn’t matter where this baby came from, he was ours.  I continue to feel this way every time I see him and I am in awe that I can be a part of his life.  Thank you God.

I still wish that God would give my daughters a child to carry, but most of all I wish a peace and a contentment in their lives.  If they are never able to carry another child I pray that God will give both of my girls a peace about it.  They are both trying to adopt (one for the first time, the other for a second) and it has been a long, long process.  Why God?  Because our babies  haven’t been born yet. I am impatient but, “My soul waits on the Lord.”

A Proper Perspective

It’s happened twice now in the past two months. I’m on the phone with a family member, talking about our upcoming international adoption. As we talk, I lament the fact that referrals were not given as far into the month as I’d hoped. The reaction on the other end of the phone line: Oh, I was thinking it’s good that referrals were given at least that far.

Then it dawns on me. I’ve been looking at this from the wrong perspective. Again. I’ve been grieving over the child that is not yet in my arms. I’ve been coveting what has not been given to me. I’ve been accusing God of not getting His timeline to match up correctly with mine. I’ve started another pity-party.

Thanks be to God that He forgives my pessimism, my self-idolatry, my lack of perspective.