Author: Kristi Leckband

Who Are You?

Who do I see when I look in the mirror? I know the person that I WANT to see. I want to see a mom to multiple children. I want to be part of the “moms group” that talks about their children together. I can sit and think about all the things that I want to be, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am somebody right now. True, I want to be a mom in a house filled with children. That hasn’t happened, and moping about it won’t help. Rather than dwell on who I am not, perhaps it’s time to ponder who I am now… already.

I am a baptized child of God.
I am a forgiven member of the family of Christ.
I am the daughter of Roger and Laurie.
I am a sister to Troy and Kirk.
I am the wife of Jerome.
I am the mother of Joanna.
I am an auntie.
I am a godmother.
I am a neighbor.
I am a piano teacher.
I am a choir director.
I am a friend.

Dear sisters, we are already precious in the eyes of God. When He looks at us, He sees a dearly loved child. We rejoice in the privilege and honor of sharing that love with those God has given to us. Now it’s your turn – “Who are you?”

Collect: April 9, 2012

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Collect of the Week:

Let us pray…

O God, by the death and resurrection of Your Son Jesus, we have inherited eternal life. Your Son has won for us forgiveness from all sins. We are made whole, cleansed of every impurity to live anew for You. Grant us to live each day with joy in the knowledge of Your love for us; through Jesus Christ, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Collect: April 3, 2012

Collect of the Week:

Let us pray…

Almighty and everlasting God, You sent Your only Son Jesus to bear the punishment for our sins. You experienced the pain of seeing Your Son beaten, spat upon, and mocked. Forgive us for our lack of faith. Comfort those who mourn. Give us strength to endure our daily crosses. Grant us joy to live and trust in You; through Jesus Christ, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

A Baby, A Bath, and Dinner

Lots of gifts are given at church. Yesterday a baby was bathed in the waters of Holy Baptism. I witnessed the sponsors confess the Lutheran faith into which this child was to be baptized. I silently confessed my own sins and was given the comfort of the cleansing of my sins as the baby was given that same forgiveness. The baptized child is now a member of the body of Christ. I am joined to this child in the Christian faith. I will pray for this child and encourage the parents as they teach their child the Christian faith.

Later in the service dinner was served. The crucified and arisen Lord’s Body and Blood were eaten for the forgiveness of my sins. This precious gift was given to me and my fellow believers at the table. I shared in the wondrous blessings that are given freely by our loving God. He is the Giver, and I am the receiver.

No need for dessert. I’m cleansed, fed, and full.

Spring Fever

Spring fever has hit me, and here’s why. Twice in the past several days, I’ve held a little one. The first was a newborn. His proud parents brought him to church, and they stayed for Bible Class. His dear mama asked if I’d like to hold him. There was, of course, no hesitancy on my part. I was blessed to cradle him throughout the entire Bible class. (Well, until he became hungry. I got him back again, though.) It was pure bliss for me. I may never get to experience the newborn stage ever again.

The second opportunity came the following day. The little sweetie’s parents took a date night, and we got to babysit their six-month-old daughter. She smiled and grinned and even ventured a few little giggles. Her parents returned, and you knew she was loved. They hugged and kissed her and took her home. A longing for a baby crept into my heart.

Spring is filled with new growth and new life. The hyacinths are blooming; the tulips and daffodils are stretching up through the ground. New grass grows in the yard. Calves are being born daily. Chicks arrive at the local stores. The photo studios are preparing for the bunnies and chicks portrait sessions. There are lots of new things happening.

I’d like a baby. New life brings joy and laughter. Babies are reminders of God’s love for His people. Babies are God’s children. I want that.

The Lord, in His divine wisdom, has other plans for me. He knows what I need, and He will provide it in the proper time. He has bestowed countless blessings already.

So, for now, I’ll enjoy the babies around me. May God bless the springtime of their lives, too.

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.

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.

Barrenness through Mom’s Eyes

My mom Laurie Schepmann is a caring soul, and it is my fervent prayer that my life might emulate her grace and love. She has never wavered in her love for me as I have journeyed from a little girl into a grown woman and am now dealing with the cross of barrenness. Below is a letter that Mom wrote. I share it with you as a reminder that you are loved as a daughter, whether or not you are a parent.

Dear Kristi,

I do want to say once again that your value or worth or whatever you want to call it has never diminished in our eyes because of your barrenness. The same goes for our love for you. Such a thing would never enter our minds. You are our daughter, and nothing can change our love for you or the bonds that tie us to each other.

I do appreciate how difficult a thing it must be to share something like barrenness when one views it as a humiliation or degradation of oneself. I, however, have never felt that it lessened a person, or more specifically YOU…but, then again, I have not “walked in your shoes.” I understand that there are people who can make you feel that way, though, and the only thing I know is to forgive them for their lack of understanding, pray for them, and move on.

Those who are barren are not lessened in my mind one iota. It is just another one of those things over which one has no control. As always, we support each other whenever we can and whenever we finally REALIZE that there is a need. So often, we are not there for others because we have no idea what goes on in their hearts and minds. Thanks be to God that there is forgiveness for us and that He promises to be with us and help us in all of our needs, though!

It has always been my belief that you handled it very well. Little did I know, though, of the turmoil and pain you endured in private. Because of our desire not to snoop, but rather to wait for you to share any news, if and when you chose to, we said very little. If you interpreted that as not caring, I apologize and feel sorry about it.

We are looking forward to the time when you can bring your adopted child home! Whoever he, or she, may be, we know this child will find welcoming hearts and laps and hugs in our family. My prayers for that child, as you know, have continued from the first time you told us that you were applying for a child! (In anticipation of his/her joining us soon, we’ve already bought him/her a Christmas stocking.) May our loving Heavenly Father, Who knows all of our needs, bring that child to us soon and in accord with His divine wisdom and will; for, He surely knows and loves us more than anyone else. We know that special love through His Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ!

Thank you for opening up and sharing with us and with others, who are traveling that same, painful road. May God bless you for your courage and help many others through you. God works all things for good to those who love Him.

Love,
Mom

A Dad’s Love for His Little Girl

Pastor Roger Schepmann is my dad, and he has graciously given me permission to share his thoughts surrounding my barrenness. Dad has always been a stronghold for our family and has always loved me unconditionally. I am blessed to be “Daddy’s little girl.”

As a father, I like to have everything go smoothly for my children. When they were little, I’d tell them to bring whatever it was that needed fixing, so I could fix it, and they would be happy. Example: the child has fallen and his/her knee hurts. Well, I’d kiss it to make it better. Or, if some toy needed some minor repair, they could bring it to me, and I’d do my best to fix it. Now, I’m not a “Mr. Fix-It,” but I’d do my best.

When it comes to barrenness, as a father, I still think it is something I should fix. I want to fix it somehow so my daughter can have all the children she has ever wanted. But it is something I cannot fix. I’d like to fix it, but I can’t. That’s why I simply put the entire matter into the hand of God. He knows what to do or not to do. He has it all figured out already. And I have to realize that He can do the impossible. That doesn’t mean He must, but He has the capacity to do what might be deemed as “impossible.” So, I commend my daughter and her husband into the hand of God for I know God will work good through this very difficult matter.

Do I think less of my daughter for being barren? Not at all. She is who she is: a child of God, made God’s own in Baptism, kept God’s own through the Spirit’s working in Word and Sacrament. She is not any less a child of God because she is unable to conceive a child. She is still “Daddy’s little girl” and will remain such. I have always been very proud of her. That has not changed. Barrenness does not define who she is. It is a cross she bears, but not one she bears alone. As a father, I am here to listen, to pray, and to give her the support she needs. I don’t always do a good job of all of that, but with God’s help, I will do better in the weeks and months ahead of us.

“God is our Refuge and Strength, an ever-present Help in trouble.” Ps. 46:1

Telling Mom and Dad

Mom and Dad are two of my greatest blessings, and I love them dearly. They have always been my strongest supporters. Mom helped me study lists of words for school spelling bees. Dad sat beside me at the kitchen table as I struggled to divide fractions. They prayed with me before bed each night and sent me to school with the words, “God be with you.” I knew they loved and supported me. They also encouraged my brothers and me to talk openly with them. Mom and Dad were always willing listeners and encouraged us to share our thoughts.

Sadly, my parents were the hardest people to tell when it came to discussions surrounding my barrenness. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. As I was preparing for my laparascopy, Jerome suggested calling my parents to let them know what was going to happen. I dreaded that call; I didn’t want them to know anything about it. Why was I so scared, so apprehensive? I was ashamed and embarrassed. I thought I had let them down. They had been waiting for grandchildren, and I hadn’t come through for them. I felt that I had disappointed them, even though I knew this could never be true.

I wanted to tell my parents that I was pregnant, not that I was barren. Thanks be to God for Jerome. He held my hand as we started that conversation. I don’t even know what we said anymore. I know that I cried. Even though those early talks are now blurred in my mind, I can confidently say that my parents’ love for me never wavered. I knew that they were still going to love and cherish me unconditionally.

Sometime after our initial barrenness talks, my mom shared that she didn’t know what to say or do. I recall her saying, “You have to tell me how to support you because we haven’t gone through anything like this.” Mom was right. This was new for our family, and none of us knew what to say or do. Mom knew, though. She loved me; she told me she cared. Our family is still learning how to talk about barrenness. I don’t think it will ever be easy because it will always hurt. However, God gives us family members to share the burden. There is great joy in being a daughter, for I know that I am a child of God. In my darkest hours, I could recall that I am the child of parents who love me, even though I may never be a parent myself.

Dear sisters, it’s hard to talk about barrenness. We’ve not heard conversations about it before, so we’re charting new territory. It’s frightening to say aloud that you’re barren. Know this, though. Your family loves you. Your value in the family does not depend upon the size of your family. You are God’s child, and He loves you as you are. I regret not telling my parents sooner about our struggles with barrenness. They knew we were hurting but wanted to respect our privacy and our wish to share things when we were ready. I had neglected to let my parents love and care for me in my grief, but God gives us family to care for us and to carry our sorrows.

When you’re ready, I encourage you to share your barrenness with your family. Yes, it will be hard, very hard. The book He Remembers the Barren is an excellent way to start the conversation. Katie states beautifully the hurt, the pain, the grief, the hope, the joy that we have as Christians who live in the Lord. Her words become your words as you struggle to verbalize your barrenness. And you’ll never be alone in your barrenness. We, your sisters in the family of Christ, are praying for you.