Author: Melissa DeGroot

Compassion With Conviction

In what could be considered a mental exercise in futility, a personal question has been nagging me: How is the suffering of barrenness akin to the grief of losing a loved one?

I suppose it’s an unfair question since there are many nuances to each affliction, and everyone handles suffering and grief differently. But I’ll take a stab at it since I have been carrying both crosses — the death of my mother most recently, and secondary infertility seven years after my son’s birth — for awhile now. For those who know back-to-back trials like a well-worn shoe, this is my feeble attempt at processing it out loud.

As Christians who are given the life-giving Word which forgives, renews, and strengthens, far be it from us to despair when tragedy strikes or we endure years of longsuffering. Right?

Eesh. What an anvil of condemnation since, if we’re honest, we do despair. We also grieve and suffer along with any other human being on earth because of the Old Adam and Eve in us.

So when it comes to death and barrenness, it is natural that any and all feelings surface. And it is sadly normal that temptations to sin arise as we hold dear what relationship we had to our departed loved one and perhaps what relationships never will be, desperately looking into things where there are no promises. Both command soul-piercing attention, because there is a very real separation, divide (a hiddenness) between people who existed in this world and those who never may.

Such suffering beckons us to look at separation and spiritual hiddenness (and perhaps the anxiety and distress that naturally follow) through a Biblical lens. We know we are connected to all the saints in Christ, but far be it for us to deliver lofty comforts with verses such as “Be anxious about nothing” without compassion. We do well to allow God to put His Word together for us through His faithful under-shepherds, our family, and friends in Christ who can and do walk alongside us in our suffering.

Luther’s pastoral letters to several friends who suffered terrible losses are tender and convicting. He always starts by realizing the natural expression of grief, especially when it is so new. He recognizes and empathizes with the agonies. Luther then moves from his own empathy to confessing God’s inscrutable kindness in Christ’s ability to identify with our suffering, loss, grief, and loneliness by overcoming it all in His crucifixion. He concludes his letters with understanding our limitations and proclaiming that God gives us all that we need — namely faith — to sojourn this side of heaven.

“How should we conduct ourselves in such a situation? God has so ordered and limited our life here that we may learn and exercise the knowledge of His very good will so that we may test and discover whether we love and esteem His will more than ourselves and everything that He had given us to have and love on earth. And although the inscrutable goodness of the divine will is hidden (as is God himself) from the old Adam as something so great and profound that man finds no pleasure in it, but only grief and lamentation, we nevertheless have His holy and sure Word which reveals to us this hidden will of His and gladdens the heart of the believer.”1

So much to parse out here, but “finding no pleasure in God’s hidden will” stands out the most to me as such an honest testament in the midst of suffering. And still God delivers us. All to say that Luther as pastor is a beautiful example of all the faithful pastors, the family, and friends we have in our own midst now who empathize, gently encourage, and comfort us at the right times. It has certainly been what my family and I have experienced in coping with our own crosses. Thanks be to God.

How is barrenness akin to the loss of a loved one? Both can cause us to isolate or scatter from the fellowship of believers that God creates for our benefit. Then again, both afflictions can and do also bring us together because God knows we need each other. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away from us, yes, but He never leaves or forsakes us — though His presence is hidden under means. And sending faithful, compassionate Christians is one of the ways He abides. Blessed be the name of the Lord!

God grant us all the tender mercies we are promised through His Word so that we might grieve without shame, while confessing the hope that is within us in Christ. God give us the strength to accept our afflictions and serve one another in love. Amen.

  1. To John Reineck, April 18, 1536: Letters, 69-70 (WA Br 7.399-400).

Word

John 1:14

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

The Word.

As I sat listening to my favorite (and most handsome) pastor preach one morning, I was struck with the enormity of how John renders the Gospel in that one verse above.

Have you ever thought about how we use words? Language influences what and how we think and do things. Like, why do I like to work out? Because I was told it was good for me, and watched other female athletes talk and walk the walk of fitness as I grew up. I admired (and wanted to be like) them. While fitness is a nice and maybe worthy endeavor, my pastor* reminded us how the world’s words, tainted by sin, are full of half-truths, some are blatant lies and most are just plain selfish. Health and wealth is never the ultimate prize in this world. Yet we hurt and slander our neighbors, those closest to us, because we believe the world’s false promises of a better life with these achievements, so we try to get ahead and preserve ourselves. Yet even that, self-preservation, is a farce. Apart from Christ, we are not preserved. In fact, we should just strike that word from the dictionary as non-existent. Like autonomy and individualism. Erm, I digress . . .

Further, these godless words tear families apart. They construct golden calves where they need not be. No children? Not enough children? If we just take care of this medically… We buy into cultural and selfish desires of our own making, and justify them with words that have nothing to do with God. We’re going to a fertility specialist. After three kids, I’m done. I was meant to have this size (whatever it is) family. And whether we get our ways or not, we like to live in our own little worlds that avoid a connection to the Truth that’s outside of ourselves. We become our own little gods. But that gets old, lonely and scary quick since, well, we’re not God.

But . . .there’s good news.

Even in the midst of our folly, Jesus, the living Word, pierces through and yet mends our forked tongues and minds. He places on us the perfect Word, enacted and strengthened by the Holy Spirit through preaching, baptism and the Lord’s Supper by pastors, so that we might hear, touch, taste and repeat this Word to ourselves and neighbors. That anyone ever receives faith at all is because of it. And we live in this Word baptismally, through service to others, daily, and as God has rightly called us in our various vocations.

By God’s grace this Word enables us to repent, be served heaps of forgiveness so that we may humbly serve and reconcile to our loved ones… since we are sure to have caused them offense, knowingly or not. Apart from Christ, our words and works stink. They do nothing for anyone’s eternal well-being. But THEE Word and His work does. By becoming flesh, dying and rising again, this Word saves and brings us eternal life. Moreover, we get to receive and confess this very Word weekly in Divine Service with our one true family in Christ. Thanks be to the Word Incarnate!

*If the reader didn’t catch on, my pastor is my husband.  No scandals outside of Christ crucified here, folks.

Barren . . .with Children?

Whoozeewatsit? Barren with children?

Well…yes. Stay with me.

When I sadly and too often see parents prioritize sports over Sunday School, sleepovers instead of sermons, poke fun of or complain about their pastors in front of their kids, or send their children to confirmation yet never darken the church’s door themselves, I have to wonder where the real LIFE of that family is. How can they keep their spiritual hearts beating when they aren’t receiving–or are blatantly denying–any quality spiritual food? One might say they are fast approaching a barren spiritual life, since where there is no Jesus, there is no spirituality or life. And that can’t be good for anyone, nevermind their children.

But readers, please don’t take this as a motivational speech, scared straight talk or condemnation (from me). We are all condemed who are born into sin. Yet Jesus is on the heels (the eyes, ears and knees, etc.) of the baptized; convicting and beckoning us all to Him, so that we might repent and confess Christ crucified for us, and be forgiven.

And when that conviction and peace comes, how can anyone stop it from overflowing from their own hearts and minds and onto our little ones? It simply can’t not (yup, I love double negatives). It can’t not compel a mother and father to bring their child into the sanctuary. It can’t not move parents to baptize their infants. It can’t not motivate them to discipline their young to listen to the Sermon, participate in the liturgy, and receive Christ in His body and blood. It can’t not… for where His Word is proclaimed and Sacraments administered, there too is Jesus, with all the promises and benefits therein to sustain his Church into eternity.

That is our true life, devoid of barrenness, and what faithful albeit sinful parents believe, teach and confess for their God-given little miracles. Our children need nothing more…and will certainly suffer with anything less.

I pray this post also encourages the childless who also faithfully gather around the altar, pulpit and font to know God’s wisdom in the face of their afflictions. But barrenness in this context points to the ultimate ail in all of existence… separation from Jesus, the one true, Fruitful Mulitiplier of His Church. The fruitfullness comes both in numbers and in faith, sometimes one more than the other, but it always comes, because He promises it will, in order that we might know Him and where He is. In Him we’re whole– both here and in heaven–because of Christ crucified and risen for us, not because of how many proverbial arrows we’ve been endowed with or not.

Let us confess joyfully this full life that we share, and pray that all are compelled by the Holy Spirit to bring their families right to where Jesus, our life and salvation, is.

nosh on this

 The eyes of all look to you,
    and you give them their food in due season.
 You open your hand;
    you satisfy the desire of every living thing. Psalm 145:15-16

Food serves manifold purposes, doesn’t it? As a health enthusiast I often ponder the efficacy (or lack thereof) of the food we eat. As common sense would have it, this is what I’ve come up with: Real food nourishes, sustains, it delights us and brings people, most especially our families, together.

Awhile back, host Kristi Leckband wrote a beautiful post found here. In a nutshell, she recounts how her family dynamics around the dinner table were more sullen and silent at times of sorrow over dashed adoption efforts. And now, the dinner conversation jags lively and joyful as they delight in their new daughter adopted from China.

From this post I began to think about the dinner table. It’s compelling how gathering around it with family in either joy and sorrow is so necessary. It strengthens us in that unit. While the food is often the impetus for the gathering, the dinner table can be the weigh station where rest, conversational refreshment and, perhaps, just silent presence is needed.

This certainly has spiritual implications within our church families, too. What about that first Maundy Thursday? Jesus and his disciples are gathered in the upper room. This was one of many occasions in which they’d dined together. While the bible doesn’t say, I’m not so sure laughter, unless it was nervous or out of ignorance, set the tone that particular night. No. That night was focused on just being in each other’s presence and with their Master. In fact, Jesus is doing most of the talking and doing. In spite of the feelings and thoughts around the room about the impending event, food is the one of the reasons they gather. But Jesus is nourishing his disciples on a new spiritual plane; uniting them to Him through bread and wine, reminding them they are forgiven through what He is about to do on the cross.

This must have been a terrifying “church family night.” But they were reminded of who they were in relation to Christ and each other. They gathered around that table to receive food, physical and spiritual, to nourish, sustain and bring them together.

Think back to your childhoods. Hopefully yours are filled with comforting and joyous memories. Did our families turn us away from the table if we had a heavy or anxious heart? Did they require us to have a contrived zeal to be there? No. Simply being born or adopted into our families granted us a seat. Sure, we might have had to munch on pureed veggies, small and soft foods until our bellies could digest the more solid stuff on the table. We also (for the most part) learned manners there, too. This private order of service is all part of what it means to grow into our families.

So too, our Lord’s Table does not turn away heavy hearts or require pietistic zeal. Simply being God’s child grants us a seat. Yes, there may be a time in which the Word and baptism are the primary sustenances until a proper examination of communion is confessed. But this is all part of the gifts of learning what it means to grow in God’s church. Jesus knew the right time to teach and administer this holy meal to his disciples, just as we with our pastors are examined in order that we may come to the Lord’s table to receive Christ’s body and blood at the right time, too.

Food conjures up so many thoughts in our minds …the things we crave, what makes us feel good and how we share it with others. How interesting that God uses food and is the food for the strengthening of our faith. This faith craves and confesses Christ crucified for our sins. It desires to be united to Him and to share it with others. And with the substances we see before us: a pastor, the Word, bread and wine, Jesus is the Host, Servant and Meal of this fine dining reality. Blessed Maundy Thursday as we remember our Lord’s death until He comes.

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him! Psalm 34:8

Equitable Creatures?
Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” Genesis 1:26

I recently took a tour of a new fitness facility that just opened in our area. This place is the bees knees of Exercise-dom, with everything you can think of from a juice bar, spin classroom, group fitness area, basketball court, pool, sauna, and all manner of state of the art equipment.

The draw for me? The child care room.

So when I greeted my tour guide with toddler in tow, that’s immediately what I asked to see. She swiftly guided me to the Kid’s Club Zone, and upon further inspection, my son and I approved.   The tour continued throughout the complex where I Ooo’d and Aaah’d a bit, and basically waited to hear what a pretty penny this place would cost.

Finally, the guide turned sales rep on me and sat me down to go over the membership fees.  As I listened, my son squirmed and managed to wriggle away, but only within arm’s length beside me. Nevertheless, my attention was diverted. The sales rep sensed it and tried to endear herself.

“Not to worry, I’ve got my eye on him, too!”

“Okay, thank you,” I said.

The conversation carried on and was about to conclude when I turned around to see my son straying a little further off.

“Oh, they are quick, aren’t they?” She said. “You’ve just got one, I’ve got three . . .three four-legged children.”

I grinned…out of both politeness and surprise. What else could I do? She just equated her dogs to children. And she also seemed to place value on the numerical amount in relation to my only having one …child.

Now, I don’t begrudge this lady. She was trying to be nice and relatable while doing her job. Only, certain (sarcastically serious) things come to mind upon further reflection of this common worldview:

doug

1. I know! Just give a barren couple a dog! It’s the same, right?

2. Or three…they’ll certainly forget about their suffering …with more dogs.

3. Dogs are people, too. (Um, why do people say that about non-people?)

Anyway, apologies in advance to all you animal lovers out there. I have a dog. I like him fine. And I know that they can seem like children. (Especially the housebreaking and destroying things part.) But you hopefully get what I mean. Pets certainly can and do bring comfort and pleasure, but they are not people. Dominion over animals in Genesis 1:26 defines that they have a different value, both to us and to God.

And it is worth delving into a bit deeper for a minute. As so often articulated here, children are a gift from God. And while animals are certainly gifts for our use, too, Jesus did not die on the cross to save Fido from his sins.  Animals have not been inspired to be reconciled to God like we. Otherwise we’d see caribou, tigers and giraffe baptizing each other on safari. (“On the left we have the King of the Jungle immersing Simba into the family of God…”)  Oh boy, I’ve been watching too much Disney and Pixar.

But essentially that sales rep was viewing my son as such…as equitably as her pets. And that’s wrong.

So, go ahead. Go Dog Whisperer on your canine and put him on the treadmill. Train him to do all sorts of tricks. Snuggle and even pray that God keeps Fluffy healthy and safe. Just please, oh please, do not put animals on the same plane as humanity. Rest assured humans, and only humans have souls which are uniquely created in God’s image as creatures to be in communion with Him. And we are given a unique responsibility to carry out those distinctions in how we treat each of God’s creatures, human and animal separately.

But, heck, what do I know?  Who’d like to be so bold as to try to advise a barren or secondary infertile couple that a pet will be an equitable stand-in or replacement for a child (biological, foster, adoptive or otherwise)? Let me know how that goes!

In the meantime, you’ll find me working out (mommy-sans pet owner-stress) in the gym.

Spacing Out

It’s begun.

Church members have been inquiring, and my husband’s recently been talking more about increasing the proverbial arrows in the quiver.  Moreover, I am anxious, too.

My son is 16 months old. Hardly a long space for some, while eons for others. (The Duggers don’t count.)  So the question that remains in all our minds, is when (if ever) will we have another child?

Such anticipation is quickly supplanted with reality. Who knows when? God knows.

It’s such a gut check. The mystery and miracle of life so profound, where not knowing or being guaranteed another child only further reminds me of the beauty of God’s promises. Mainly the promise that eternal life in Jesus is far greater than building any kingdoms here on earth.

And because of this, I must decrease, so He may increase. Yet even while I family “plan” and wonder, Jesus still died and rose for me.

An Eternity Secured

Comment Submitted: I suffered my third miscarriage in September. It feels like we have come to the end of trying to have our own family. (I have no children, but he has a son from a previous relationship.) I am fearful of what our future holds. My husband is dealing better with the miscarriage than I am. He has faith, but I don’t.

I’m very sorry to hear about your losses. If you’ve been following our website, you may know that I also suffered a miscarriage less than three years ago. Along with the emotional turmoil you are experiencing, I pray your body is medically healing from this physical loss as well. I hope you have a trusted physician that can give you sound medical advice, and perhaps a counselor and your husband’s pastor to care for your emotional and spiritual needs.

Your fears about the future, in the wake of losing another child, are completely normal and natural. Thoughts about “what could have been if this child were here now” can sometimes play like a broken record when we are at our lowest. Thinking about due dates, anniversaries and other “milestone would-have-beens” are sources of tremendous earthly sorrow. And you have had to go through this three times. You are grieving yet another dashed hope. Concern about how this will affect your future and your relationship with your husband is completely understandable.

While material goods, and even friends, family and spouses are certainly beneficial and can comfort us in ways large and small, the eternal consolation we can always cling to is to know that Jesus went to the cross and defeated sin, death and Satan so that we can live forever in everlasting blessedness, righteousness and innocence. Yes, we will still suffer on this side of heaven. Yes, loved ones will die. Yes, we will doubt and despair at times. But even this is okay. You might think I’m crazy to say so, but hear how one dear pastor explains our hardships, or crosses, in his own words:

“Crosses are not signs of God’s disfavor. They come upon God’s children from His mercy. Sometimes they come as a holy discipline, as chastisement, to keep us close to God. But they always come for His glory. And they almost always come unexplained, with no apparent cause. Simply put, they come as part of the chaos and death that is all around us in this fallen world.

But we abide in the grace of Christ, the one who forgives the guilt of our sin, even our most grievous, stupid and ugly sin. And in the meantime, crosses, even when they are a result of our own actions, are endured in faith. They teach us to pray, to remain fully dependent upon God’s mercy. They teach us that we cannot make our own way through this world or to the next. They teach us that Christ is the way, that we live not by sight but by faith, even as we pray that they be removed. We recognize our crosses as coming from God for our own good, but we name them as evil things, realizing that some of our crosses will only be removed when we are transferred to the Church Triumphant (heaven).” (Pastor David H. Petersen, The Lutheran Witness, November 2011)

You are a precious child of God, Sister. May you recognize this even now in your suffering. Miscarriage is nobody’s fault but a result of our fallen world. While none of us have a crystal ball and know what the future holds this side of heaven, we do know that our eternal futures are secure. When in doubt, just refer back to John 3:16, “For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him will not perish, but have everlasting life.” 

You mentioned in your comment that your husband has faith, but you don’t. It reminds me of the father who was uncertain of whether or not Jesus could help his afflicted son and said, “I believe! Help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24) Even the most faithful Christians utter this very same hopeful-yet-doubting phrase daily in their hearts. And that’s okay, too. God takes our doubting hearts and minds and turns them onto His Son, our crucified and risen Savior–even (and especially) when we don’t want to. On behalf of the HeRemembersTheBarren.com hosts and community, I pray this is so for you. Otherwise anything we may have to say will likely be of little comfort. With the help and grace of God, may you be encouraged and assured in the thing most needful in all our lives, Jesus, in the midst of the turmoil.

We can rest in the knowledge and comfort that our Triune God is the Author and Giver of life. He did not create death, but destroyed it in Jesus! Just as your three children were known before the very foundation of the world, so too, God knew you! He not only calls you to hear him in His Word, but gives you immeasurably more through his many masks of mercy—in your husband, faithful pastors, doctors, friends, family and so on. In these many gifts, we are reminded that our eternal salvation is secure in Jesus. You are in our thoughts and prayers as you continue to bear these crosses. But be comforted that you do not bear them alone.    

Collect

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

Collect of the Week: 

Let us pray…

O Almighty God, You are Greatest, both in heaven and on earth.  And yet, through your Son’s death on the cross, you made yourself low, and last, in order to save us. Guide our pastors–the men you’ve sent to shepherd Your Church–as they faithfully preach Your Word and administer Your Sacraments in the stead of Christ.  In this, send Your Spirit to turn our hearts away from our selfish family desires and to fix them on your eternal gifts.  Forgive and renew us. Lead us to Your means of grace and service to our neighbor daily, as You promised You would. In Jesus’ name. Amen.


Fertility Guilt

Sometimes I feel guilty when I’m around barren couples. I have a healthy eight-month-old who I simply adore, and yet I find myself holding back that joy when I’m in the presence of the childless.

The truth is, three years ago I wondered if I might be barren, too. When I first met Katie, author of He Remembers The Barren, we both didn’t have any children. And we were both honest with each other about how that affected us. I was 29 at the time and two years into marriage. Not too old, but, by many physicians’ standards, losing ground fertility-wise.

Perhaps this is an affect of feminism (It couldn’t possibly be my personality, ha!), but in that season of my life I built up emotionally stoic walls to safeguard against self-pity. And I entrenched myself in my work. Sure, my husband and I wanted children, but if it wasn’t going to happen, then I focused on what was in front of me. After all, I was a deaconess. I had God’s Word in my back pocket (literally), and knew where to go to receive everything I truly needed, rather than wanted.

Then I suffered a miscarriage in 2009. Even though it was very early on (five weeks) and we trust God’s promises for that little one, it shook me only further to think that I might never hold a child of our own. So when I became pregnant again a year later, I kept that stiff upper lip. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Yet as each trimester passed successfully, the magnitude of motherhood began to sink in.

And then joy of all joys, Knox was born. As if making up for nine months (and perhaps years) of emotional avoidance, my whole being and demeanor bursted like a broken dam, as I embodied what I imagined Mary might have felt when she voiced the Magnificat. My soul doth magnify the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!

To say I was overjoyed to hold this little person would be a vast understatement. Even now, my cup runneth over as I look at him.

So when I think about how to address this miracle and blessing with other women who cannot conceive, I hesitate. I mean, I don’t want to come off as insensitive to their thoughts and feelings while gushing about my own. But as dear Katie has encouraged and reminded me, it is important to express what a gift our children are to whomever we come into contact.

I am also reminded that the baptismal liturgy urges all Christians to support these little ones in the faith, to nurture and teach them what God says, and ultimately receive His gifts of Word and Sacrament together. This is the barren soul’s invitation to serve in a very important way, as Sponsor and/or fellow Christian.

So please, dear barren sister and brother, forgive those of us who hold back from discussing their children with you. Be patient with them as they get to know you. My guess is that this takes time–for both parties–to eventually feel comfortable speaking freely. Let us pray that God grants us healthy and open lines of communication, rooted in Christ’s love, to bless us all in our given vocations. This so we may rejoice together in His many, many gifts. In Jesus name, Amen.

Gone So Soon


Death is a grievous disruption of the eternal life God has always  intended for His creation. So inarguably, the death of children most heinously depicts a world gone wrong. The robbery from raising and nurturing our little ones due to their untimely deaths (via miscarriage, stillbirth or otherwise) leaves parents seemingly mocked by Satan with this barrenness.

Just ask my sister-in-law, Sara.

Young and hopeful, Sara and her husband, David, began their marriage on May 25, 2002 like most Christian families; enjoying the gift of each other and looking forward to the days ahead where God might grant them children. And grant them He did. 

In January 2005, Sara discovered she was pregnant. Excitement naturally abounded in their family, but sadly, a few short weeks in, she suffered a miscarriage. They named this baby Emma.

The following year, Sara became pregnant again. However, the miscarriage occurred even earlier than the first. They named that baby Lily.

Less than a year later, Sara conceived in December 2006. She’d made it past the first trimester much to her relief. However, the nightmarish pattern once more descended, and the baby miscarried shortly thereafter. They named this child Joshua.

Sadness, confusion and helplessness understandably overshadowed Sara and David.

After three miscarriages in less than three years, Sara sought the advice of other doctors. Then one physician, Dr. Storey, discovered Sara was borderline Protein C deficient. This means blood clots a little too much, which causes insufficient circulation to what her system considers “unnecessary” parts of her body—including her uterus. Also, Dr. Storey told her she likely has Luteal Phase Defect; which means her body does not produce enough progesterone during the first trimester to force the body to stay pregnant.

When Sara conceived again for the fourth time in 2008, they were cautiously hopeful as her doctor prepared a specific treatment plan. Sara followed strict orders of minimal-to-no exercise, a baby aspirin to thin out her blood, and progesterone during the first trimester. She ever-so-anxiously nurtured their fourth child en-utero, and Hannah Lynn was born happy and healthy nine months later on December 13, 2008.

Finally, a child was born! Relieved and joyful, Sara and David were ever thankful to finally hold one of their children in their arms. So, when Sara conceived for the fifth time a mere 13 months later, back to Dr. Storey she went to care for this baby, too.

The first and second trimesters went very well. Adhering to the doctor’s orders, their fifth child–a boy they named Carter–was growing steadily and healthily. However, things took a turn for the unimaginable in her 35th week.

A baby shower on August 27, 2009 (Five weeks before the due date) lent itself to mixed emotions. Sara had had a doctor’s appointment three days earlier that affirmed Carter was fine, and yet, she hadn’t felt him move much at all that day. Sara went through the motions of the celebration, but was very preoccupied. The following morning, she called the doctor to schedule another visit. She didn’t even tell David, thinking her fears were getting the best of her. Unfortunately, it was one of  their darkest days that would follow several more. The visit confirmed that tragically, Carter Alan’s heart was no longer beating. Later that same day, they induced labor and beheld his perfect, still little body in the early morning hours of August 29, 2009.  Doctors discovered that the umbilical cord had become wrapped and tangled around his legs, which had cut off all blood and oxygen supply.

Even in the midst of such heartache and grief, Sara conceived a few months later, and they were blessed with a sixth child, Abigail Faith, born happy and healthy in September 2010.

Suffice it to say, the trauma of Carter’s death is, among all of their losses, a distinct grief still observed. Going through a pregnancy nearly full-term (where, in many cases, babies survive with medical care after week 28), enduring the labor pains and recovery, and dreading the reality that they would only be able to hold the shell—a perfect shell—of the son they once had, has been the source of much sorrow to this day. 

*****

Luther suffered the loss of a child–a daughter, Magdalena, when she was only twelve years old. What is so striking in his writings proceeding her death is his immediate, unshakeable confidence (“I rejoice that she is living with her Father in sweet sleep until that Day.1”), and pangs of melancholy that he remained here on earth. (“ ...the world’s contempt and hatred for the Word of Grace makes me disgusted with life and seeing anything in this horrible Sodom.2”).

Incidentally, Sara and David seem to have responded in kind. Sara shared with me two passages of Scripture that have comforted them since Carter’s death.

“People were also bringing babies to Jesus for him to place his hands on them. When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Luke 18: 15-17

“More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” Romans 5: 3-5

What bittersweet joy the unshakeable confidence God has given Sara and David in the midst of such tragedies. It is truly a gift borne solely out of God’s Word–namely the Word-made-flesh, Jesus; who has called all believers out of darkness and into his marvelous light. It is Jesus who gives us faith. It is Jesus who gives us hope.  And.it is Jesus who beckons the little children –yes, Emma, Lily, Joshua and Carter–unto him into eternity. Just as God told Jeremiah He knew him before he was formed in the womb, (Jer. 1:5) so too, God knows all of His children! 

God remembers the Janes family and continueally abides with them as He does all His people, through His means of grace.  Trudging this weary, earthly trail together, God gives us the strength to carry on to our blessed ends and to bear each other’s burdens (Luke 5:6). If readers would like to contact Sara, she has offered her email address: wyjanes@gmail.com.