Grief

The Gift of Compassion

Just a couple days after my miscarriage in 2009, a dear friend sent me a small package containing a handwritten note and a prism hanging on a string. This is a women who cares for a full house and has plenty of excuses for not reaching out to every person in need, but somehow she managed to promptly find and send me a beautiful gift and a message that I will treasure for years. She wrote:

Dear Rebecca,

My heart is broken for you. We have all been robbed, and no one more than you, Ben and Caleb. How strange to think there could be a bosom even more perfect for your baby than your own.

Someday, when our tears have been wiped away and all is made new, we will see a brilliant and beautiful person who could only be the child of Benjamin and Rebecca, and we will finally hold and know and marvel at your baby. Until then, here is something that could never approximate that beauty and brilliance. We are all poor icons of what is real. So I hope that even what feeble light it can refract for you will bring you joy.

I pray that the Lord would allow me to somehow be there for others at just the right time with just the right words, as this dear friend was able to be there for me. If there’s nothing else that we learn from this journey of barrenness, let us at least learn true compassion and empathy.

A Father’s Grief for His Barren Daughter

Barrenness affects everyone in our families, possibly no one more than our parents. In our barrenness, they, too, are barren. My father lovingly penned this, and he gave me permission to post it for all the other dads out there who may be grieving for their barren daughters. He wants you to know that you are not alone.

“Father of the Tried” by Bob Roley

I have just been sitting here looking at the picture on the cover of the book He Remembers the Barren. Such a haunting picture that seems to cut clean to your soul. How much pain must be associated with barrenness and the loneliness that follows? How can you console someone with such grief as depicted in that picture?

Since I am a man of 60+ years with married children and grandchildren, you would think that I would not find this such a haunting subject. I come from a large family with many brothers and sisters, and my mom comes from a large family. As a result, I have several aunts, uncles, and cousins. I remember growing up and realizing that several of my cousins were adopted, but, being young and living in an era when no one really talked about that kind of stuff, I had no idea why. I am now much more knowledgeable about problems of infertility and what kind of an impact they have had on my aunts, sisters, nieces, and, yes, my daughters. I am also very aware that those medical issues may have been passed down through my mother’s side of the family.

So, why am I haunted by my daughter’s book and the picture on the front of it? My daughters, who have been the pride of my life and for whom I would gladly die, are now faced with this pain. Even those with children suffer along with the ones who can’t have children. We have had so many years of fun times, family outings, adventures, and just the joy of being together, and we still do. So, why must such near-perfect times be strained by such pain? Is this all my fault?

I am no theologian, no great Lutheran thinker, not even a good Christian, but I do know this: Sin is the problem, and God has taken care of that for me. I keep remembering the part in C.S. Lewis’s book, Till We Have Faces, where the main character wants to ask God all these questions, and, when she finally gets to stand before God, all she can do is look at His face and realize that before Him there are no questions.

I look forward to the day I get to stand before God as one of His children and realize there are no more questions.

The Tentatio of Family Plans

Understatement of the world: Life is hard.

We’re constantly warring against the devil, our sinful flesh and non-Christian views.  And we lose most of the time. No. . .apart from Christ, every time.

So is it any wonder why barren Christian couples worry and despair? Or those who’ve miscarried, delivered stillborns, or await seemingly endless months and years to adopt?  Life is hard. And with no guarantees of receiving children, longsuffering, it seems, becomes a part of who we are.

“Wait.” you might posit, “What about the good times of life? The feelings and states of contentment, peace and well-being?”  And you’d be good to ask that.  After all, even though we suffer, God is gracious to bestow on us these gifts, too.  However, our ability to recognize God’s many gifts might not be in the way we’d expect.

Luther points out that the devil and his enemies draw us ever closer to God. You read that correctly. . .the devil AND his enemies. He called it tentatio, or, spiritual affliction, trial, and temptation, which actually aids to drive us away from our selves and to God’s promises alone.

In Luther’s personal struggles against the Roman Catholic Church he stated his gratitude for his enemies: “For I myself…must be very thankful to my papists for pummeling, pressing, and terrifying me; that is, for making me a fairly good theologian, for otherwise I would not have become one…”(Doberstein, 288).

Today, those who would question us couples on our family size, or causes for why you and your spouse might be in the state you’re in is not a far cry from what Luther is talking about here.  These outside pressures and our own thoughts seem to constantly attack us; that is, until we realize that the blessing of children is simply not in our hands. And, by these very assaults, right theology begins to take shape.

Luther goes on to say that even the devil is of much use to our souls’ well-being:

“The devil is used by God against his own evil purpose. “As soon as a person meditates and is occupied with God’s Word; as soon as God’s Word begins to take root in and grow in him, the devil harries him with much conflict, bitter contradiction, and blatant opposition. But these assaults (Anfechtungen) prove to be spiritually counterproductive, for by driving him to the end of his tether, they teach him ‘to seek and love God’s Word’ as the source of all his strength and being. In such a situation of temptation, he experiences for himself the power and truth of God’s Word. Temptation turns the student of God’s Word into a real theologian, because it exercises and reinforces his faith in Christ. He experiences the power of God’s Word in his own weakness. Paradoxically, he sees the presence of God and his grace most fully displayed under its apparent negation in adversity and trouble. Because he bears the word of Christ in himself, he must also bear the cross for it. But, as he bears his own cross, he gets to know himself and Christ whose glory was revealed by his death on the cross.” (Kleinig, “The Kindled Heart”, 147).

It should be no surprise that in weakness we find strength.  Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ demonstrated that on the cross for our salvation.  As Christ not only claims our souls but OUR BODIES in baptism, we are new creations that bear witness to the redemption of the world. Especially and EVEN as we suffer.  Barreness, miscarraige, stillbirth, adoption difficulties become our crosses. But they are also our blessings that drive us straight to Jesus.

What consolation we have! That no matter what afflictions we endure, the Holy Spirit is tirelessly drawing us unto Christ through God’s Word and our baptisms, which proclaim “NO” to death,the devil, and our sins and “YES” to forgiveness, life eternal and salvation through Jesus.

Moreso, how much closer a God can we have when we partake of Him each Lord’s Day in His Supper?  The very body and blood of Christ given and shed for us for the forgiveness of our sins and strengthening of our faith?  This truly is the peace that passes all understanding.

Life IS hard. And this side of heaven, it will not relent.  Nevertheless, as we trudge this weary trail together, God is making us theologians of His cross, so that we might be consoled to life everlasting; whereby in our death, tentatio will die, every tear will be wiped away, and we will live with Him in everlasting peace and blessedness.  Thanks be to the ever living, Triune God!

Works Cited:

Kleinig, John. “The Kindled Heart” Lutheran Theological Journal (August-November 1 9 86), 142- 154.

Notes on “Pastoral Formation: Oratio, Meditation, Tentatio,” by Professor John T. Pless found here: http://alts.edu/Assets/PASTORAL%20FORMATION%20-%20Oratio%20%20Meditatio%20%20Tentatio%20(with%20lecture%20notes%20added).pdf

For further reading, click Resources tab on this site.

How Long, O Lord?

Do you remember, when as a child, you kept waiting for Christmas to come?  Perhaps you counted down to the last day of school.  You counted every day and knew when the last bell would ring, welcoming the start of summer break.  Sometimes the wait seemed extremely lengthy, but you knew there was an end in sight.  When couples discover they are going to have a baby, the countdown calendar is on.

It sure would be nice if the adoption process worked that way, too.  The sad truth is that it doesn’t.  When you pursue the adoption path, you are getting on a long ride.  You have no idea if the wait will be short or long.  You have no idea whether or not you will ever receive a child.  Thus, you wait.  And you wait.  And you wait some more.

The same is true of the married couple wanting to have a baby.  There is no guarantee of a baby.  However, they wait and hope and pray.

What’s a person to do during this exceedingly long stage?  Do I wallow in self-pity?  Do I become angry at the girls who have babies all the time and don’t even want them?  Do I lock myself away from all new moms?  Do I wonder when I will get to have something good happen to me? 

The long wait (since January 2006) has helped me to see God provides all good things to me ALREADY.  I have been born into a Christian family that knew that I needed my sinful thoughts removed in the gift of holy baptism.  I am married to a loving husband, who carries the load of barrenness with me.  I have been blessed with friends who walk this difficult road and share tears with me.  When God made me His child, He gave me abundant blessings right then and there.  I didn’t have to mark the days off on a calendar, waiting for God’s blessings to come to me.  I received them at my baptism.

God has created the world and all within it.  He cares for the sparrow and knows the very hairs on our heads.  He knows all things about me, and loves me anyway!  He cares for me, and He cares for you, my dear friend in Christ.  He loves you!

And so I can talk about barrenness and not feel like I’m less of a person than the unwed teenage mom or the family that already has their quiver full and another one the way.  God has given me so many good things.  On my knees, with tears in my eyes, I realized that God has taken care of me in multiple ways.  Whether or not I am able to mother another child – that doesn’t matter.  I am valuable in God’s eyes. If God should see fit to grow my family, then I am blessed even more abundantly.  If God deigns that my family is complete in its current form, then I am blessed abundantly.  I have God’s goodness ALREADY.

Why We Suffer

The Israelites are finally rescued from Egyptian oppression by their God, led out of Egypt and heading towards the promised land where the living will be easy. But then they run into some rather unpleasant circumstances. The supply of food runs out, there’s no water, and they’re getting impatient. This trip isn’t what they expected, nor is this how they foresaw their prayers being answered. This God isn’t who they thought He was.

The Jews in Jerusalem witness the triumphant entry of the man who they know has come to deliver them from Roman tyranny. He has exhibited his power over sickness and demons. He has put scribes and pharasees in their place. He zealously wielded a whip around the temple courtyard, driving out the money changers. He seems invincible—that is until word gets out that he was arrested. The sight of him being dragged around in chains and his unwillingness to speak up for himself when accused is simply pathetic. A true savior would never take this kind of treatment. This man isn’t who they thought he was.

The barren woman experiences the same realizations that these biblical figures did. We have the same initial expectations. “God is a gracious God and He has promised to rescue me in times of trouble, so here I am, hand outstretched for the life preserver. I’m ready Lord … any day now … I know You’re coming. Hello? Can you hear me?” And yet the Rescuer does not arrive. This isn’t the kind of treatment we expected from our God.

If there’s one thing that suffering teaches a person it is this: God is not who you thought He was. I don’t care if you were baptized the moment you emerged from the womb and intensely indoctrinated in the Holy Scriptures, the Small Catechism, and the Augsburg Confession from kindergarten on, there is simply no better teaching tool about who God is than personal suffering. Our Lutheran fathers in the faith called this teaching the “Theology of the Cross.”  It is the realization that the Christian life will include various sufferings and we will each, at some point in our lives, carry crosses of our own, though some bigger than others.

By our very natures we seek to live lives according to the opposite teaching, the  “Theology of Glory,” where we only experience God’s glorious blessings, peace, and harmony each and every day, shunning any experience that might require some pain, patience, or self-denial. The desire for the “good life” is not evil by any means, but the rejection and avoidance of the Father’s loving discipline is a rejection of God Himself and all that He has planned for us.

In my recent search for the meaning behind the trials and tribulations God sends to His children, my scholarly husband pointed me to Divine Providence and Human Suffering by James Walsh, S.J., and P.G. Walsh (published by Spring Arbor Distributors). This is a collection of essays by our fathers in the faith which address numerous topics related to suffering. I was particularly drawn to the essay called The Twelve Advantages of Tribulations by Peter of Blois, a pastor from the 12th century. I want to share with you a summary of his comments and some thought-provoking quotes from the essay.

1. Through tribulation God seeks to deliver our souls from our enemies, which include “false joys and deceitful prosperity in this world.” It also “prunes our hearts to rid it of superfluous love for earthly goods so we might bear spiritual fruit” (p. 144).

2. Tribulation refines and strengthens our hearts, just as a sword is cleaned and filed in order to stay sharp. “[I]n the same way the human heart, without being exercised by tribulation, gathers rust” (p. 146).

3. Tribulation drives us to confession, so that we can properly see ourselves and our miserable state and understand our desperate need for a Savior (p. 148).

4. Tribulation causes your prayers to be heard by God: “The Lord will listen to the entreaty of the wounded” (Eccl 35:16). In times of good fortune we can get lazy in our worship. God often causes suffering so that, unlike this, our suffering will force us to call upon Him (p. 159).

5. Tribulation is evidence of God’s love for you, as stated in Rev. 3:19: “Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline.” Blois says, “So if you wish to be loved by God, dear soul, do not reject the tribulations which reveal to you the proof of divine love. … [E]ndure your tribulation now with Christ, so that you may in the end win a crown in the kingdom of heaven. As the Apostle says, ‘We must enter the kingdom of heaven only by many tribulations’ (Acts 14:21)” (pp. 161-162).

In addition to the above reminders of why tribulations come our way, Blois asks the reader to look at her own suffering and compare it to what our Lord Jesus Christ was willing to endure on our behalf.  The church-goer who has lived a carefree life without many trials may very well rush through the words of the Apostles Creed, “He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended into hell.” The Christian who carries her own small cross will carefully reflect upon these words, for she has been given a glimpse of the pain that paid for her sin and is more acutely aware of the gravity of our Lord’s sacrifice. The connection that is made between our suffering and His helps us more clearly see who He really is—a God who will do whatever it takes to help His children remember Him, call upon Him and rely on His providence alone.

I leave you with a final word from Blois who, some 800 years after his death, has been able to paint such a vivid picture in my mind of Christ’s love for me that I don’t believe I can ever look at my pain the same way again.

So realize, O soul, that it is the custom of lovers to send letters to each other, and to remind each other of the welcome and reciprocated kindnesses shown to each other, and to fear that these may be forgotten. This is why your lover Jesus Christ has visited tribulation on you… . Realize, then, that Jesus has kept the scars of his wounds which he endured for you as keepsakes. … So Christ himself says: “I shall not forget you; I have graven you on the palms of my hands” (Isah. 49:16), that is, “When I was stretched on the cross for love of you.” So if Christ has kept the scars of his wounds as keepsakes, do not be angry if he sends tribulations on you to make you mindful of him. (p. 149)

Hymns to Chase Away the Harmful Spirit

One night was worse than all of the others. I honestly can’t even remember very much of it anymore. It is as if the pain and darkness of my own grief was so pungent that my brain has blocked all sensory memory of the experience.

I do remember that my cries felt different. No, they were moans, not cries.  I had lost control of them. They rose unbidden from the center of my gut, and they came without ceasing, one perfect messa di voce after another.

I was staring my barrenness in the face, and my stomach vomited moans.

I thought to myself, “This is despair.”

I remember that my husband looked at me differently that night. He recognized the harmful spirit. No tender touches would chase it away. No platitudes of earthly comfort would suffice. He simply reached for the hymnal and began to sing:

“Why should cross and trial grieve me?
Christ is near
With His cheer;
Never will He leave me.
Who can rob me of the heaven
That God’s Son
For me won
When His life was given?

When life’s troubles rise to meet me,
Though their weight
May be great,
They will not defeat me.
God, my loving Savior, sends them;
He who knows
All my woes
Knows how best to end them.

God gives me my days of gladness,
And I will
Trust Him still
When He sends me sadness.
God is good; His love attends me
Day by day,
Come what may,
Guides me and defends me.” *

My husband had no lyre that night, but his singing was a David to my Saul. Hymn after hymn he sang, boldly proclaiming the Word of God in our home and swinging that powerful sword of Spirit to chase the Devil from our door.

And, as my husband – my warrior! – sang those Gospel Words of light and life into my own ears, my shield of faith was strengthened. The flaming darts of the devil were extinguished. My moans ceased.

* Lutheran Service Book 756 “Why Should Cross and Trial Grieve Me?” (Text: Paul Gerhardt, 1607-76; tr. Christian Worship, 1993, sts. 1-3)

More Paperwork

When our daughter Joanna was 2 years old, we hoped to become pregnant again. After several unsuccessful months, our doctor had no clear answer for not being pregnant. Jerome and I discussed and prayed over our options for growing a family. We knew several friends who had successfully adopted children internationally, so we decided to go that route.

In 2006, we began the long road to China. We still haven’t been there. We’ve done the homestudy, plus all of the yearly updates. We’ve done fingerprinting on the state level and the national level. (Yes, we’ve been inside Homeland Security.) We’ve visited our doctors, written down our parenting philosophy, and paid some money along the way.

This week I received the paperwork for doing our yearly homestudy update. I could fill out the paperwork in my sleep. I could get really frustrated, and sometimes I do. However, I’m not going to give up on this adoption possibility. I am hoping and praying that God allowed Jerome and me to get into this line to bring home a beautiful child to our family. I hope and pray that we are able to fulfill our roles as parents to Joanna properly, as well as care for more children.

It’s easy to become disappointed, frustrated, and depressed while waiting. There seems to be a lot of paperwork done, and we’ve yet to see any sort of progress. I’ve had some really low days, but that is the time when I’ve been on my knees in prayer as well. I know that our Heavenly Father looks out for me, and by His grace, He has blessed me with a faithful spouse and a baptized daughter. I did NOTHING to deserve any of those things. They are all gifts.

And so I continue to fill out the paperwork. I thank the Lord for each day to live in His grace. I pray that the child that He has chosen for us will come soon. In the meantime, I pray for this child as I fill out the adoption papers.

Words of Comfort?

Question Submitted: I don’t know what to say to my friend who recently miscarried.  It seems like what one person finds comforting, another person finds offensive.

I do not have the perfect answer to this question, nor do I know what words will fully comfort every woman who has ever endured such a crisis, but I can offer you a few practical suggestions:

1. Make sure her pastor knows what is going on, so that he can go to her and minister to her.

2. Pray for her.

3. Be there. Share in her loss as faithfully as you would in her joy. If she wants to be alone, respect her privacy and seek her out the next day. And the next. And the next.

4. Listen to her. Acknowledge her miscarriage (barrenness) for exactly what it is – a heinous, horrible reality – and be careful not to try to “explain it away.” Her grief and pain are too present to be put in a box. Let her freely lament, for lamentation has always been a part of the Christian life.

5.  Tend to the immediate, physical needs of her family. Do they have food to eat? Do they need daycare? Does anyone need a ride to doctors’ appointments? Etc.

6. If given the opportunity to speak words of comfort to her, remember this: “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.” (Colossians 3:16) Speak the Word of God to her, remind her of God’s promises to her in Jesus, and sing words of hope and comfort. I personally find Psalms 6, 30, 40, 123, 130, and 138 comforting, and my husband often sings the following hymns to me in my grief: LSB 760 “What God Ordains Is Always Good,” LSB 754 “Entrust Your Days and Burdens,” and LSB 756 “Why Should Cross and Trial Grieve Me.”

(A note of warning: Whenever we are given the opportunity to say something to someone else who is suffering, most of us tend to say the thing that would most comfort ourselves. It is almost as if we can’t help but project our own sense of order onto another person’s chaos – and barrenness and miscarriage are definitely situations of chaos and crisis. I strongly advise you to carefully guard your friend from your own sense of order and let her faith, instead, respond to the Word of God. In other words, carefully guard your friend from yourself.)

7. And, finally, should you say something that angers her in her grief, apologize to her and let it go. Forgive yourself and forgive her, and keep coming back to her, seventy times seven times.

Is It Just Me?

That’s what I wondered when my tears kept flowing. I was ready for another child, and nothing was happening. I had checkups with my doctor, did the tests, ate the right foods, marked the calendar faithfully – and still nothing. I was angry, sorrowful, and confused. I felt alone in my grief. My husband and I wanted another child, but there was none. I felt like crying all the time.

Why isn’t my husband crying, too? Is it just me?  Doesn’t he care? The obvious answer was yes, but I was so overwhelmed with my own emotions that i didn’t see it. He was grieving as well. Yet I was angry that he wasn’t displaying more emotion over the situation.

Finally, my tears dried enough to tell him that I was sad, angry, confused, bitter. Praise God for a husband who cares! As I shared my myriad of emotions, he listened patiently and held me. It was then that I remembered that I do not walk this road alone. He shared his concerns and fears and sorrows, too. We cried together.

And then – we prayed. We took our concerns to the Lord. He already knew our needs and sorrows, and yet we told Him anyway. We prayed for peace, that God would grant us another baby while we waited. We prayed for other couples who were struggling with infertility. We thanked the Lord for the child we already had. We prayed that the Lord’s will would be done, and that we might know and do His will.

Is it just me? No, never. Jesus Christ knows my sorrows, and He will always be there right beside me.