I Just Can’t

LSome of you look at me like a deer in the headlights. You see the book I have in my extended hand. You see my intent to give it to you, and you flee.

“No,” you shake your head. Some of you even wave your hands. “No, I just can’t. I can’t read that.”

I am not into waterboarding, so I quickly slip the tool of torture back into my bag. Out of sight. “It’s okay. You don’t have to read it.”

This is usually when you start to cry. “I-I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s good. It’s just that…that…”

I know. I really do. You don’t want the word barren anywhere near you. You don’t want to read about someone else’s pain, because your own is already too much to bear. Your disappointment and fear and anger have all but extinguished the little flicker of child-fire inside of you, and you think this book is a swift wind that will snuff it out. You don’t want to be content in your childlessness. You want a child, and you will have one or go down fighting.

Most of us go down fighting, and that, dear sister, is why I wrote the book; not because I want your child-fire to die, but because I want you to be encouraged by the truth:

You are special, beloved by God, your Father. He has not forgotten you, nor has He forgotten that you want a child. Yet, children are not a prize for you to earn, a commodity for you to demand, nor an idol for you to worship. They are a gift which the Heavenly Father only has the privilege to bestow and to withhold. If God makes you a mother, then you can receive His good gift of a child with all joy and confidence in His love for you. If God does not make you a mother, then you can still know with all joy and confidence that God loves you completely in His perfect gift of the Child Jesus whose sacrifice on the cross atoned for your Sin and reconciled you to your Heavenly Father. You are God’s own child, purchased and won by the blood of Jesus, and God promises in His Word that He will work all things – even your barrenness – for your eternal good.

It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be okay. It’s even okay – Dare I write it? – to be content today without a child. His grace is sufficient for you. It really is.

Now, would you please go read the book? There are so many other comforting things I want to tell you.