Author: Katie Schuermann

I believe the Holy Scriptures to be the inerrant Word of God, inspired by the Holy Spirit and fulfilled in Christ Jesus, our risen Lord and Savior. Therefore, I have faith that children are exactly what God tells us they are in His Word: a heritage to receive from Him. Children are not a prize for me to earn, a commodity for me to demand, nor an idol for me to worship. They are a gift which my Heavenly Father only has the privilege to bestow and to withhold. If God makes me a mother, then I can receive His good gift of a child with all joy and confidence in His love for me. If God does not make me a mother, then I can still know with all joy and confidence that God loves me completely in His perfect gift of the Child Jesus whose sacrifice on the cross atoned for my sin and reconciled me to my Heavenly Father. I am 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 my barrenness - for my eternal good. For this reason, I can in faith confess that my barrenness is a blessing.

Cow Choir

I stood next to the electric fence, its current of energy clicking like a castanet around the perimeter of the rolling pasture. I had just finished my morning run, and my senses were feasting on the lush humidity of green grass, mud puddles, and cow pies. I couldn’t help but sing.

I am Jesus’ little lamb,
Ever glad at heart I am;

A nearby heifer lifted her head and swung my way.

For my Shepherd gently guides me,
Knows my need and well provides me,

Another spotted girl on the southern slope abandoned her to-go breakfast and ambled towards the music. Then, another. And another. The heifers were peeling off one by one, now, defying the herd mentality for music. Perhaps cows and musicians are kindred spirits?

Loves me ev’ry day the same,
Even calls me by my name.

At this point, six black-and-white heifers stood silently before me in a line, their shoulders hunched together like shy teenagers at a party. I was singing about the wrong animal, but they didn’t seem to mind. At least the Hero was correct. I started in on stanza two.

From somewhere behind me, a screen door opened and slammed shut, and soon two boyish pairs of bare feet were braving the gravel driveway to come stand at my side. Apparently, cows are not the only creatures willing to leave breakfast for a good hymn-sing.

“Let’s sing the Offertory,” I suggested to my short companions. They didn’t hesitate, their sweet voices floating over the sun-streaked countryside like birds on a breeze.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
And renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not a way from Thy presence,
And take not Thy Holy Spirit from me.

I looked over my shoulder to see the thirteen-year-old in braids who had quietly emerged from the farmhouse to join our choir.

Restore unto me the joy of Thy salvation,
And uphold me with Thy free Spirit. Amen.

The cows stared at us, quiet and motionless. They didn’t applaud, but they also didn’t leave.

“I think they like our music,” I said.

The older boy leaned over and whispered, “They must be Lutheran.”

The cows didn’t protest.

“But which one is the pastor?” he asked.

“I know,” the younger boy piped up. “The bull is the pastor.”

I contained my smile. “I bet you’re right. God calls men to be pastors, so it must be the bull.”

“But that one’s the organist,” the older boy confirmed, pointing to the first heifer to join our songfest. One strand of grass hung awkwardly from the corner of her mouth. The thirteen-year-old giggled with delight.

“Yes, I think she is.”

We sang a few more hits from Lutheran Service Book before waving goodbye to our cow kin. As I headed into the house to claim my own spot at my hostess’s table, I couldn’t help but thank God for dairy farms, Missouri breezes, the hospitality of dear friends in Christ, the faith of little Lutherans, and the gift that is the Church’s song.

Some days, in the fellowship of Christ, I almost feel like a mother.

Cross-Bearing

We are Simon of Cyrene.

We are called out of our comfortable existences – away from our well-laid plans and trips and vacations – to pick up the cross and turn towards Golgotha.

We are called to step alongside our bloody Savior.

We are called to messy good works which our Lord has prepared in advance for us to do.

We are called to witness the Suffering Servant pour out His blood for our atonement.

We are inconvenienced – yes, even annoyed – to have to bear the weight of something so filthy, but we are blessed beyond reason to be plucked from the crowd of goats. For we, in our cross-carrying, see the Savior’s power to bear more than just the weight of splintery wood. We see Him bear the crushing weight of Sin so that nothing – not our sin, not death, not the devil – can separate us from the love of God.

We who have been baptized into Jesus’ death will carry the cross and die with Him, but – Good News! – our Savior did not stay dead. He is risen, and we will rise again, too! Alleluia!

So put a shoulder under it, Simon.

Lamentation

My husband and I recently took a nostalgia trip to Kansas City (that’s where we met, y’all) and spent an afternoon at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art.

I was wandering through an exhibit, chewing on a particularly vibrant rendering of John the Baptist by Caravaggio when I threw a glance towards this oil on canvas by American painter Albert Bloch (1882-1961).

My heart jumped in my throat, the strangulation immediate. I fought down the nausea of recognition, for I wasn’t looking at a painting. I was looking in a mirror.

There I stood. There I sat. There I knelt. There I hid. There I scorned. There I blamed. There I questioned. There I wept. There I comforted. There I rejoiced.

Every posture of grief, every thought of denial, every self-absorbed motivation, every moment of isolation, every cross-bearing tear, every giving in, every turning to another, every turning to the Light.

I stood before my reflection and barely took notice of a father somewhere behind my right shoulder explaining a nearby painting to his school-aged daughter. They were oblivious to my plight.

I didn’t cry in the museum if that’s what you’re wondering. No, tears aren’t for open exhibits on nostalgia trips. If this painting teaches us one thing, it’s that grief likes to hide her face from even you.

She saves her tears for locked hotel rooms and public restroom stalls.

The name of this painting?

Klagelied.

Lamentation.

“May we both be like Anna”

There are times when God in His wisdom and mercy grants one of us our request for a child. So He has seen fit to do for our sister in Christ, Abby, and I don’t think I’ve ever read a more beautiful “sharing and bearing” epistle in my entire correspondence with women who struggle under the cross of barrenness:

We had the marvelous, bittersweet gift of, for once, hitting a “due date” [from one of our miscarried babies] with another baby on the way, and now that we are rounding the corner of the third trimester, it’s maybe sinking in? I am so happy and so scared, still, for her. I am praying all the more for the Lord’s return for us all and many baby blessings in the meantime.

We are naming her Anne in honor of Hannah’s prayers and God’s marvelous favor to Anna, which came in the revelation of the Messiah and NOT in the form of a baby of her own. Because we have been so open with friends and family about our miscarriages, it has proven more natural to reply graciously to those who say things about how much the baby will “help us heal” from the miscarriages. I’m sorry, the only baby who does that is Jesus. I refuse to believe that this girl is the answer or solution. That would not be fair to expect of her. And we have all heard those awful stories about umbilical cords that wrap too tight, little lungs that just won’t expand, or chests that stop beating one night…. if one of those things were to happen to a baby that’s supposed to heal me, where would I be then? (Devastated, of course, but preferably not bereft of all hope in the Gospel.)

The Bible does not say, “For God so loved the barren/miscarrying woman that He gave each one the promise of her own child, that whosoever believes in Him will not remain barren but will have a procreative life.” Because of His love for the whole world, He gave His Son so we could have eternal life. What good, good news.

Much love to you, and I’m praying this news comes to you in God’s timing. May you see manifold witness of His love and care for you in every bit of your day, and may we both be like Anna, who found her satisfaction in God’s faithfulness to provide salvation.

Thank you, Abby, and amen.

Trust in the Lord

jacob-wrestling copy I was sitting in the hot seat at KFUO, listening to my husband respond to the radio show host’s question of what it means to deal with barrenness as a man, when I heard him say this:

“This cross [of barrenness] is one of the ways the Lord is teaching us to trust more fully in Him and in His will. He wants us to trust Him on this even when we have not received this particular gift that He gives.”

The wrestling angel released his death grip on my conscience, my hip went back into its socket, and I saw again the Lord’s blessing on my childless marriage. We get to trust in the Lord. Our barrenness is a gift, an opportunity to trust in God further, to trust in Him still, to trust in Him regardless, for He promises to work all things for our good. A wave of comfort washed over me like an anointing, its soothing rivulets of warm, sweet-smelling oil streaming down my neck and my spine.

It is not a new concept, this trusting in the Lord, but I still need to hear it over and over again that my baptized heart might believe and be comforted.

Luther writes about it this way in his Large Catechism (I:2-3):

“A god means that from which we are to expect all good and in which we are to take refuge in all distress. So, to have a God is nothing other than trusting and believing Him with the heart. I have often said that the confidence and faith of the heart alone make both God and an idol. If your faith and trust is right, then your god is also true. On the other hand, if your trust is false and wrong, then you do not have the true God. For these two belong together, faith and God. Now, I say that whatever you set your heart on and put your trust in is truly your god.”

Lord, help me ever to set my heart on and put my trust in You, not in motherhood. For Jesus’ sake, amen.

What He Said

“Our experiences are not promises from God.” Rev. Michael Schuermann

A Shout-out to the Singles

To all of my sisters and brothers in the house who grieve not only the absence of children of their own but also the absence of a spouse:

Remember this?

Well, our wait for Adriane Dorr Heins‘ book is over.

Hello, My Name is Single is finally available through Concordia Publishing House, and you can order it here.

I have a confession to make. I had the chance to sneak an early peak at the book (okay, read it all the way through) a couple of months ago, and – let me tell you – it is a delight!

In her book, Heins serves up a rich feast of Christ’s comfort—a tasty meal brined in Holy Writ, peppered to perfection with the Lutheran Confessions, and paired with Heins’ signature, zesty wit—prepared especially for those yearning for the gift of a spouse. Though “Single” is the name written on the place card, Heins generously invites all of us to the banquet table to partake of the peace and joy which alone are found in our Lord Jesus and His Church.

Heins begins the meal with a salty appetizer, “You are not defined by being single. No, you are a child of God: whole and perfect, broken no more,” and quickly refreshes the palate with a clarifying sorbet, “We are not alone, and we don’t live as though we are. We are one with Christ, even if we have no spouse or boyfriend or girlfriend or any friends at all, and He is the one who gives us our value, our worth, our meaning.”

The crunchy salad course whets the appetite for something meaty, “The time and ability to serve the Body of Christ is one of our best and most needed gifts as singles,” which Chef Heins delivers with an experienced hand: “And so it all boils down to this: All of us – single or married – want to place our importance and our worth on something we can control, rather than find it in Christ. We want something that’s not ours to have (at least not yet), and so our Good Shepherd responds to us in a way that teaches us again what His good and perfect will for us is.” *

And as for dessert, well…Did you really think I would give the best part away in a single (pun intended) blog post?

Nope. You’ll have to get the book yourself to find out what’s on the menu.

So, pick up your copy today (along with a fork), and down the hatch!

* (Hello, My Name Is Single by Adriane Dorr Heins, 7-24)

Pregnancy News

It is always good news when someone is pregnant. It’s just not always easy news.

For my barren sisters, it’s good to remember that God’s giving of the gift of children is good, right, and salutary. Children really are a blessing, a heritage, and a good fruit of the one-flesh union of marriage, even when they are not given to us. Sometimes, the best-kept secret in all of this is that we GET to join in on the celebration of someone else’s pregnancy, because it’s really the way things are supposed to be. It’s okay to rejoice at something going right in this life and at the devil being thwarted.

For all of you kind, compassionate mothers who are trying to figure out a way to tell the good-but-not-always-easy news of your pregnancy to your suffering barren sisters, here is something which might help.

The Typical Mother

I am blessed to be on the receiving end of an eleven-year-old’s homeschool journal assignments, and here is what this wise, young girl recently wrote in response to the prompt, “Describe what you think of as the typical mother.”

The typical mother should raise her children in the Lord, take them to church and Sunday School (we’re talking about this right now in Catechism). She should love her children, and treat them kindly. She should punish them when necessary, and reward them when necessary. She should submit to her husband as to the Lord. This is what I think of as the typical mother.

I agree.

A blessed Mother’s Day this Sunday to all of you typical mothers out there! xo

20080704-2961 copy 20080830-545 copy IMG_0852 copy P1010798 copy P1040163 copy P1060167 copy P1080072 copy

This Just in…

1 There was a certain man of Ramathaim-zophim of the hill country of Ephraim whose name was Elkanah the son of Jeroham, son of Elihu, son of Tohu, son of Zuph, an Ephrathite. 2 He had two wives. The name of the one was Hannah, and the name of the other, Peninnah. And Peninnah had children, but Hannah had no children because she never elevated her cervix after intercourse.

3 Now this man used to go up year by year from his city to worship and to sacrifice to the Lord of hosts at Shiloh, where the two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas, were priests of theLord. 4 On the day when Elkanah sacrificed, he would give portions to Peninnah his wife and to all her sons and daughters. 5 But to Hannah he gave a double portion, because he loved her, though the Lord had closed her womb through the estrogenic, BPA-laced plastics in which she stored her food.[a] 6 And her rival used to provoke her grievously to irritate her, because the Lord had closed her womb because of too much exercise, specifically running. 7 So it went on year by year. As often as she went up to the house of the Lord, she used to provoke her. Therefore Hannah wept and would not eat corn-fed beef. 8 And Elkanah, her husband, said to her, “Hannah, why do you weep? And why do you not eat? And why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?”

9 After they had eaten and drunk in Shiloh, Hannah rose to meditate and visualize her mother-destiny. Now Eli the priest was sitting on the seat beside the doorpost of the temple of the Lord. 10 She was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly. 11 And she vowed a vow and said, “O Lord of hosts, if you will indeed look on the affliction of your servant and remember me and not forget your deserving servant, but will give to your servant a son, then I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life, and no razor shall touch his head.”

12 As she continued praying before the Lord, Eli observed her mouth. 13 Hannah was speaking in her heart, “I will be a mother, I will be a mother, I will be a mother! I claim my mother-destiny, right now!”; only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard. Therefore Eli took her to be a drunken woman. 14 And Eli said to her, “How long will you go on being drunk? Put your wine away from you.” 15 But Hannah answered, “No, my lord, I am a woman troubled in spirit and body. I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink nor anything dairy, but I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord. 16 Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for all along I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation over my undeserved barrenness.” 17 Then Eli answered, “Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to him.” 18 And she said, “Let your servant find favor in your eyes because of my fervent prayers.” Then the woman went her way and ate a vegan diet supplemented with Omega 3’s, calcium citrate, and probiotics, and her face was no longer sad.

19 They rose early in the morning, began the adoption process, and worshiped before the Lord; then they went back to their house at Ramah and relaxed. And Elkanah knew Hannah his wife who made sure to take two teaspoons of cough syrup before intercourse, and the Lord remembered her because of her good deeds and pious prayer life. 20 And in due time Hannah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Samuel, for she said, “I have asked for him from the Lord and earned him by my great faith.”[b] 1 Samuel 1:1-20 (ESV)

I confess: I added all of those red words myself.

You may not realize it, but whenever you tell a barren woman she will get pregnant by doing x, y, and z, you are adding a bunch of red words to the Word of God, too. You are promising something our Lord has not promised.

Here’s the truth: Hannah was barren, but the LORD remembered her out of mercy for us all. He opened this undeserving barren woman’s womb so that she would conceive and bear a son who would anoint David, the king and savior of Old Testament Israel, and effectively point us straight to Jesus, the King and Savior of the world!

And no red words were required in the working of this miracle.

He Remembers the Barren

God remembers you in Jesus