Grief

A Quiver of One


Psalm 127

1 Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.

Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain.

2 It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest,

eating the bread of anxious toil;

for he gives to his beloved sleep.

3 Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.

4 Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth.

5 Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them!

He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.

[The Holy Bible: English Stand Version]

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On our wedding day, my husband and I read this psalm with the congregation.  It was our fervent prayer that the Lord would grant to us a quiver full of children.  We knew that children were a heritage from the Lord, and we hoped to inherit abundantly.

The Lord has been gracious to us, and we have one daughter.  She brings us much joy, and we know she is a gift to be treasured.  As the years have passed, however, we have not received any more daughters or even a son.  How can this be?  The psalm-writer pens words about a quiver filled with arrows.  Why shouldn’t my home be filled with children?

It is then that I mourn for my daughter.  I’m sad that she doesn’t get to play dress-up with a sibling.  I wonder how she feels about playing alone in her fort.  Is she tired of playing Dog-opoly with her mom and dad?  Does that bother her?  I feel like she must be missing out on sibling experiences – yes, even on sibling squabbles.

However, these worries are ill-founded.  My daughter doesn’t know any differently.  In fact, she has come to embrace her experiences.  She has made all sorts of crafts and read lots of adventure books.  She has learned to sew and cook and help in the garage.  Her activities are numerous and enjoyable to her.

Recently, a friend of hers lamented not having anybody to play with him at the moment.  My daughter replied, “That happens to me sometimes.  There are LOTS of things you can do by yourself.”  She didn’t say that it really stinks to be an only child.  She didn’t bemoan the fact that she doesn’t have a sibling for a constant playmate.  She didn’t mourn over the fact that she has to be creative in her play sometimes.  No, she simply stated how comfortable she is in her own skin.

And so I worry less for my only child.  In her I have a beautiful treasure.  She is a baptized member of the body of Christ.  She has a family full of sisters and brothers, who share the same faith in the Triune God.  The Lord has made her my daughter, and she is a blessing.  If I never receive another child, my quiver of one is still full.

Here We Come!

Won’t you come out and meet us?

Rebecca Mayes and I, God willing, are getting behind the wheel next Tuesday in hopes of meeting YOU. We will be presenting on the topic “Caring for the Barren Woman” at Concordia University Chicago, Concordia Theological Seminary, and various churches in Michigan and Indiana. And – Best of all! – my husband is coming with us. Rev. Michael Schuermann will be available to answer any questions you may have regarding how to care for the barren man.

Location and presentation details can be found here.

If you would like any of the HeRemembersTheBarren.com hosts to present “Caring for the Barren Woman” at a church near you, please let us know via the “Submit a Question” page on this website.

We can’t wait to meet you!

* Photo by Adriane Dorr

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

My soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is;
so I say, “My endurance has perished; so has my hope from the LORD.”
Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall!
My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”

The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.

For the Lord will not cast off forever,
but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love;
for he does not willingly afflict or grieve the children of men.

Who has spoken and it came to pass, unless the Lord has commanded it?
Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that good and bad come?

I called on your name, O LORD, from the depths of the pit;
you heard my plea, “Do not close your ear to my cry for help!”
You came near when I called on you; you said, “Do not fear!”

You have taken up my cause, O Lord; you have redeemed my life.

Lamentations 3:17-26, 31-33, 37-38, 55-58 (ESV)

Let us pray…

Most High, You bid us in Your Word to wait on You. As the days turn into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years, remind us that Your mercies are new every morning. Assure us of your abundant, steadfast love to us in Jesus, that we might rejoice in the waiting, knowing You to be our Portion, our Hope, and our Redeemer forever, no matter what it is You may speak to come to pass. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

(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.)

Nikusubila

Nikusubila is an African name. It means “hopeful.”

A year-and-a-half ago, I was walking through Hobby Lobby – piddling, really (a.k.a. wandering aimlessly about with no life goal other than to admire hoards of other peoples’ things I cannot and should not own) – and I came across a figurine of a young boy wearing a safari hat. His expression was sweet, like he was watching something of interest across a field, happily forgetting his present task at hand. Just like a boy!

I picked up the figurine and fingered the boy’s round cheeks. I liked the color of his skin, the shape of his scrawny arms and chicken legs. Everything looked and felt just right. He reminded me of…

No! I quickly set the figurine back down. Silly. Ridiculous, even. I did not need a figurine of a boy in my home. I loathe dusting, and this would be just another item to collect dust.

I escaped around the nearest aisle to look at picture frames and candles. Yes, that was safe. But, even as I checked prices on frames and sniffed waxy confections my mind was on that boy. His posture was just so charming and familiar. He had rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbow, and he was resting his right hand on a hip as if he was waiting for someone to catch up with him.

That settled it.

I walked back to the figurine, picked him up, and paid for him at the cash register before I could chicken out. This was more than an impulse buy. This was hope in action.

For, you see, this boy looks like my son. I have never actually met him. I have only seen him in my head and in my heart, but that afternoon in Hobby Lobby I saw him with my eyes.

Nikusubila now stands in his bare feet on my fireplace mantel where I can look at him and keep hoping that, God willing, I may someday catch up with my son.

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


Ursula’s Curse

I am having trouble singing in church.

It happens sometimes. I take a deep breath, and my expanding diaphragm rubs up against the forgotten ball of grief buried deep inside my gut. My coward of a diaphragm recoils from the touch, shuddering all music-making air out of my lungs.

I open my mouth to sing anyway – I will not give up this hymn so easily! – but my traitorous throat holds my larynx in a vice grip.

Even my eyes betray me. I can no longer see the words on the page for the two waterfalls spilling onto my cheeks.

But, no matter. I may be mute and blind in my grief, but I am not forsaken in the pew. The Word still prevails through the mouths of my song-preaching neighbors. Freida and Margaret sit behind me, Teresa sits before, and Blake and Jenny sit at my side. Their voices sing loud and clear for my benefit:

A Mighty fortress is our God,
A trusty shield and weapon;
He helps us free from every need
That hath us now o’ertaken.
The old evil foe
Now means deadly woe;
Deep guile and great might
Are his dread arms in fight;
On earth is not his equal.

With might of ours can naught be done,
Soon were our loss effected;
But for us fights the valiant One,
Whom God Himself elected.
Ask ye, Who is this?
Jesus Christ it is,
Of Sabaoth Lord,
And there’s none other God;
He holds the field forever. 

Though devils all the world should fill,
All eager to devour us,
We tremble not, we fear no ill;
They shall not overpower us.
This world’s prince may still
Scowl fierce as he will,
He can harm us none.
He’s judged; the deed is done;
One little word can fell him. 

The Word they still shall let remain
nor any thanks have for it;
He’s by our side upon the plain
With His good gifts and Spirit.
And take they our life,
Goods, fame, child, and wife,
Though these all be gone,
Our victory has been won;
The Kingdom ours remaineth. *

Thank you, Church, for faithfully singing the Word to me when I am struck silent by my grief. “The Word they still shall let remain,” indeed, “the Kingdom ours remaineth.” Even my double-crossing flesh cannot hold back a hearty, “Amen!”

* “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” by Martin Luther (Lutheran Service Book 656)

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


Christian Man-to-Man Advice about Dealing with Barrenness

Thank you, Rev. Dr. Benjamin T. G. Mayes (husband of Rebecca), for generously responding to the following question recently submitted.

Question Submitted: Any ideas for barren husbands? This may be harder on me than on my wife. We’re a happy family of 2, but I have rough days missing children we won’t have.

Brother, here are some random thoughts to give an answer to your question. My sense is that men have totally different feelings about barrenness and lack of children. Most men are probably able to compartmentalize the disappointment that they feel when they realize that their family might not include any little ones. We probably are not all the same. As for me, there were times when I did not feel the desire for children. Of course, that’s when I thought it would be easy to have them! We always seem to want what we don’t have, isn’t that true?

I have one son, who is definitely not a baby any more. He has been a major blessing to me and Rebecca, so I’m afraid I’m not in your exact situation. But now, I, too, wish to have another child of my own, and who knows if and when that will happen?

I don’t think anything can take the place of having your own child, just like nothing can take the place of having your own wife. God gives different gifts to different people, but those gifts are unique and not interchangeable. The woman with five kids might be tempted to see those kids as a burden. For us, we feel the lack of children as a burden. We feel that we lack little ones on which to shower our love. I don’t think anything can take the place of those kids. So that is the one major caveat I have to give here. The following tips may not fill the hole in your life and family that you are feeling. But they might help, and they will certainly be good reminders of the truths you probably already know.

1. Katie and her team here have amassed a treasure trove of Gospel comfort for barren families, including you.

2. As I’m sure you know, our primary identity and joy (we must remind ourselves!) should come from belonging to God’s family, having God as our true Father, the church as our true mother (cf. Matt. 12:50; Gal. 4:26), and other Christians as our brothers and sisters. If you are a pastor, you also have children in the faith through your preaching, teaching, and baptizing (1 Cor. 4:15).

3. On a practical level, obviously pursue adoption if you’re able.

4. Since you don’t have kids, you may as well save up some money and splurge on doing some special things with your wife, like traveling or investing in some of the hobbies you both enjoy. I would personally suggest checking out beautiful art and architecture in Germany and Italy! Then, of course, you might also be able to afford being generous to others.

5. I’d recommend becoming a mentor for boys or young men in your area. Many boys have no father figures and really need one. I’ve had the opportunity to become involved in the life of a young man, my godson, who was baptized at our church when he was 8 (now he’s a teenager). He was adopted by his great-grandmother and had no father figure to look up to. So he comes to our house every Saturday night, and we have what you might call a family night, so that he can see how a man should treat his wife, so that we can play games together, and also have time to talk about questions that he wouldn’t feel comfortable asking grandma. It’s been a great experience for me, and for him, too. Maybe for you, spending time with the church’s youth group would allow you to show the love of Christ to young people. It doesn’t take the place of having your own son, but it is a way that someone in your position can truly help a young man and show him the love of Christ. And truly, if the Lord has not blessed you with physical children, showing the love of Christ is more important than having a child of your own.

In summary, I think men probably approach the issue of barrenness with more detachment than our sisters in Christ, but what does detachment really mean? It means that we can compartmentalize our sorrow and put it in a box so that it doesn’t bother us all the time. But it is still there. We pray to God for solace, and He gives solace when and where it pleases Him, not when and where it pleases us. In the meantime, He has given you the best solace in His Son and Holy Spirit (the Comforter!), and at the same time, I think He gives you other blessings and avenues of service that might just be unique to people in your situation.

—Rev. Dr. Benjamin T. G. Mayes