How to Care for the Barren

Gift Language

There is an eerie silence that surrounds the topic of barrenness in the church today. All of us are afraid to talk about it, and, in my humble opinion, it is because we have abandoned the use of “gift language” in the body of Christ.

Rarely do we talk about children as God defines them in the Bible, using His words of “heritage, fruit, blessing, reward.” Instead, we refer to children as the world does, adopting cultural phrases like “family planning, baby machine, reproduction, fertility science.” By our language alone, we suggest to each other that children are something to be planned for and controlled.

Blech.

This “control language” is a waste of breath in the church, because it isn’t true. It isn’t God’s language. It doesn’t come from His Word. It is something we humans have made up in an attempt to explain and define and harness that which remains mysterious and untamed. “Control language” falls short every time. Family planning? My family isn’t working out the way I planned. Baby machine? Mine didn’t come with a warranty, and I’m still trying to figure out the return policy on this thing. Reproduction? It’s procreation, dude. Fertility science? With a 33% success rate of implantation in IVF, even fertility’s most exact science can’t give me a baby 67% of the time.

That’s why you, Church, are afraid to talk to me. The world has given you faulty language that fails to deliver truth, comfort, or babies. Give me God’s “gift language” every time. Remind me that children are a heritage from the Lord, a gift from Him that is received. And when I get mad that God has not yet given me the gift of children, keep watch with me in my grief and use some more of God’s “gift language.” Tell me about the gift of salvation won for me by Christ on the cross and applied to me in my baptism. Tell me about the gift of God’s Word which creates and sustains my faith in Him. Tell me about the gift of Christ’s Body and Blood given to me at the altar every Sunday for my benefit. And when I still grieve at my childlessness, gently remind me that God gives other good gifts in this life (fellowship, recreation, music, food, education, etc.), not just the gift of children.

So, don’t be afraid. Come up and talk to me. Just, please, leave all of that “control language” out in the world where it belongs and, instead, talk to me about the good gifts we share in Christ. I will try to do the same for you.

The Importance of Listening

Maybe you can relate. When I am grieving over my childlessness, I don’t want someone to explain away my grief. I also don’t want someone to offer practical solutions to my pain. I usually just want someone to listen.

When discussing this fact with my husband this afternoon, he drew my attention to the following excerpt on the importance of listening for the consolation of the brethren from Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Life Together:

“The first service that one owes to others in the fellowship consists in listening to them. Just as love to God begins with listening to His Word, so the beginning of love for the brethren is learning to listen to them. It is God’s love for us that He not only gives us His Word but also lends us His ear. So it is His work that we do for our brother when we learn to listen to him. Christians…so often think they must always contribute something when they are in the company of others, that this is the one service they have to render. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking.

Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking where they should be listening. But he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God either; he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God too. This is the beginning of the death of the spiritual life, and in the end there is nothing left but spiritual chatter and clerical condescension arrayed in pious words. One who cannot listen long and patiently will presently be talking beside the point and be never really speaking to others, albeit he be not conscious of it. Anyone who thinks that his time is too valuable to spend keeping quiet will eventually have no time for God and his brother, but only for himself and for his own follies.

…There is a kind of listening with half an ear that presumes already to know what the other person has to say. It is an impatient, inattentive listening, that despises the brother and is only waiting for a chance to speak and thus get rid of the other person. This is no fulfillment of our obligation, and it is certain that here too our attitude toward our brother only reflects our relationship to God…But Christians have forgotten that the ministry of listening has been committed to them by Him who is Himself the great listener and whose work they should share. We should listen with the ears of God that we may speak the Word of God.” *

Amen.

* (Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, Life Together. New York: Harper & Row Publishers, Inc., 1954. pgs, 97-9.)

Words to Memorize

Other than the Lord’s Prayer, I can think of no better prayer for the barren woman to have engraved in her heart than the collect for the fifth Sunday after Trinity. I have pledged to memorize it myself this week so that it might be quickly recalled during those moments of heartache. It beautifully refocuses our desires to that which will never disappoint us.

O God, You have prepared for those who love You good things that surpass all understanding. Pour into our hearts such love toward You that we, loving You above all things, may obtain Your promises, which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

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)