Marriage

I’ll See Your Shakespeare and Raise You Three Little Pigs

“Not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin.”

— The Three Little Pigs

Remember Beth, my friend whose hormones are about as balanced as our federal budget? While Juliet was finally experiencing “torches that burn a little less brightly,” Beth had a breakthrough of her own (or so she thought)–one that would relieve her from one of the most annoying complications related to ovaries that overproduce cysts: the detestable chin hairs.

Beth had just received an unexpected monetary gift which would allow her to have a little fun and think outside the budget that she and her family were normally confined to. “Hmmm…” she thought to herself (and then told me, of course), “Should I get a new food processor? Save up for a vacation? Update my wardrobe?” The possibilities were endless, until an idea struck her that made her stop what she was doing and practically giggle with glee.

“I could get laser hair removal of my chin hairs!” she almost shouted. She could really do it and they’d be gone. FOREVER. She could hardly contain herself. Once the Dear Husband returned home from work she broached the subject with him cautiously. Yes, the money was given to her and for her alone to use, but they had agreed to discuss all money matters before purchases were made. Would he think this was frivolous spending? Would he laugh? Would he scoff?

“So I was thinking,” Beth began hesitantly when she found an appropriate moment. “I have this money you know, and the thought occurred to me that I could use it for laser hair removal. For my chin. You know how much that annoys me. Do you think it would be OK?”

Without hesitation DH replied enthusiastically, “Absolutely!” Might I point out, a little too enthusiastically. “Then I won’t get scratched anymore,” he added for extra emphasis.

“Yikes! It’s that bad!” Beth realized in a moment of temporary humiliation, followed quickly by relief that it would not have to endure much longer.

The following day she picked up the phone and made The Call.

“Ideal Image. This is Amanda, how can I help you today?”

“I’d like some information about hair removal from the chin,” responded Beth in a confident, “I’m gonna to take this bull by the horns” tone of voice. (Or was it “I’m gonna to take this piglet by the whiskers”?)

“Certainly,” Amanda said. “Can you tell me what color the hairs are?”

What difference does that make?

“Well, they’re blonde.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, our laser technology uses color to search for the follicles. It won’t work on blonde or white hairs. Is there any other part of the body you’d like to address?”

The line was silent for several seconds, but in that brief timeframe Beth went on a mental tirade.

“Is this for real? Did you just say it can’t be done? What is this, the Middle Ages? We just put a vehicle on Mars for crying out loud and you’re telling me your laser technology can’t find the light colored hairs?! I don’t believe it. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

But perky-voiced Amanda wasn’t kidding. The dream was over. The hairs would remain. Beth got a grip and the anger turned to self-pity. She whispered a tearful, “No, but thanks,” and hung up the phone.

She should have known that it was too good to be true.

Fairytales are only in books.

THE END

For Better, For Worse

 Summer brings a host of weddings. How often, though, do you listen to the vows? I mean, really listen.

I, Andrea, take you, James, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish ’till death do us part. And I pledge you my faithfulness.

The bride and groom promise to love each other through a variety of circumstances. I never stopped to think about all of the times that would be included in the phrase “for better, for worse.” I knew that there would be rough patches, but barrenness wasn’t even on the radar.

My husband and I desire to fill our home with joy and laughter, and if it God wills it, children. Unfortunately, sin is a part of marriage, too. Our bodies are sinful and broken. Multiple children have not been given to us. That definitely falls into the “for worse” category. Children are God’s gift to give. Is there a solution? How about some kind of medical procedure? Does that procedure follow God’s design for marriage and family, or does it compromise God’s plan for the one man-one woman union?

No matter if children are part of our family or not, God has brought me to my husband. Yes, there will be days that are worse than others. There will even be months and years that are terrible. Through it all, though, I am thankful that God provides comfort through my loving spouse. I never dreamed that barrenness would be part of my marriage. And still I am loved – by my husband, by my family, and by my church. I’ll file that in the “for better” category.

Insemination Contemplation

Question Submitted: I am overwhelmed with the options out there for couples dealing with infertility.  My husband and I are embarking on an IUI cycle this month which will include clomid, menopur, and hCG. I feel like there is a lack of information available regarding treatment options outside of IVF.  I know where my beliefs stand on this, but the other options are pretty fuzzy for me. I feel pretty confident in my decision since it will not involve selecting good/bad embryos, but I still wonder where that line is regarding going beyond God’s plans and trying to take matters into your own hands.

Fuzzy. I think that’s a key word in your question. You’re absolutely right about there being a lack of clarity within our Christian circles about fertility treatment options. I applaud you for seeing clearly that IVF is not an option and for loving your neighbor by avoiding this process. But what about the other methods? Aside from the herbal or pharmaceutical treatments that can be taken to simply help with ovulation, the other options really revolve around the donation of sperm and the injection of that sperm into the womb, otherwise known as insemination.

“I still wonder where that line is…” you confess. Don’t we all? My husband and I dealt with this, too, as you can read about in a previous post, How Close Can We Get? But here’s a quick summary: we don’t know for sure where that line is. The Bible, which gives us God’s Law-those clearly drawn lines that are unmistakable-does not discuss IUI’s or GIFT or Clomid. As with many other modern scientific possibilities, Christians have to use what the Bible does give us in order to help guide our ethical decisions. I really think the post just mentioned is the best answer to your broader question, but I will try and unpack some of the other specifics here.

There are a couple of aspects to consider when looking at insemination procedures.  First, there’s the fact that sperm needs to be collected. Second, conception would occur outside the act of intercourse. Both of these are a big deal and need to be taken seriously. The sperm collection topic will be addressed in a future post since there is so much to cover with that one (yes, the Bible does actually have something to say about this!). Let’s take a look at the second aspect.

The truth is, there just isn’t a unified opinion among conservative church bodies, including the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, about the necessity of intercourse for conception. The majority say that insemination, while done between a married couple, in no way violates their one-flesh union. They are using the broad definition, of course, that the union is the joining together of a man and a woman in a sexually faithful relationship for life. Narrowly speaking though, during insemination there is no physical union of fleshes at all. And it’s for that reason that the idea has always made me and my husband uncomfortable.

“You mean my husband and I don’t even have to touch each other and we can conceive a baby?” I remember thinking when we first looked into all those treatments. I had always thought the biblical references to our patriarchs “knowing” their spouses and then conceiving was so romantic. “Know” is such a great biblical word. It covers more than just the modern definition of sex, which so often occurs now between two people who have just met and don’t even know each other’s last names. I believed that “knowing” involved all those wonderful things that marriage should be: shared interests, shared faiths, shared experiences, a shared name, and shared bodies. This “knowing,” this union, was supposed to combine these two separate beings to produce another flesh, a child.

I realize that this romantic idea of my husband and I producing a miniature version of ourselves as a result of our physical love is probably never going to happen. But the desire to make that dream come true has never been strong enough to drive us to remove the physical aspect from the “knowing” of each other in order to achieve the end goal.

There isn’t a commandment about this. As I mentioned, most pastors would probably say that my conscience is over-active. But when you go against your conscience you are sinning, regardless of whether the action you are doing is, in fact, sinful. “I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself, but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean,” Romans 14:14, and “For whatever does not procede from faith is sin,” Romans 14:23. The study note in my Bible explains these verses further: “If one’s conscience is not clear before God regarding certain behaviors, one dare not engage in them,” (TLSB pg. 1938).

“I feel pretty confident in my decision…” A decision as big as this needs to be made without a nagging conscience and with the support of your pastor. If you aren’t able to get both of these, pray for strength to step back and re-evaluate your options. And if you’re not sure what to pray, just open your hymnal.

Oh, that the Lord would guide my ways,

To keep His statues still!

Oh, that my God would grant me grace

To know and do His will.

Order my footsteps by Thy Word

And make my heart sincere;

Let sin have no dominion, Lord,

But keep my conscience clear.

Lutheran Service Book, hymn 707, verses 1 & 2

Suffering

God Himself causes our suffering.  He is not the cause of sin, mind you, but He is the cause of our suffering.  [p.32]  Those are the words of Dr. Gregory Schulz  in his book The Problem of Suffering: A Father’s Hope.

As I read Dr. Schulz’s book, I began to think he had a window to my heart.  As he shared the struggles of pain and suffering surrounding the death of two of his children, he asked why these things could happen.  I asked that same question surrounding my barrenness.  He wrote based on his experiences as a father and a husband.  He asked why suffering happens.  He questioned suffering in the world.  I asked those very same things.  Dr. Schulz pointed me to Jesus, the only relief from suffering.

We experience death, pain, sorrow, and grief. How can suffering come from God?  Suffering is real.  Suffering hurts.  Suffering drives us to our knees.  Suffering demonstrates to us that we are mortal.  We cannot cure every disease.  We cannot prevent death.  We cannot administer the drug that takes away aches and pains.

No, our only relief lies in Jesus Christ.  He took all of our sin sicknesses and sufferings and ingested them into Himself on the cross – for us.  We are made holy in our baptisms.  Once baptized, though, we are signed up for a lifetime of suffering.

There is great temptation to say that our suffering will come to a fairy-tale ending in this world.  On the contrary, in this world we will have pain and sorrow.  It would be foolish to insist that our suffering is going to have a glorious finish.  This is a sinful world, and while we dwell in it, we will not be safe from sin.  When the body and soul of the believer in Christ are united with Jesus, THEN all suffering will end.  This is why we pray in the Lord’s Prayer, “But deliver us from evil.”  True relief is peace in Christ.

In this world, we will experience disappointment, heartache, death, miscarriage, and so much more.  Take heart, dear sisters and brothers in Christ, you are not alone.  Dr. Schulz writes: “…even the Gospel doesn’t give us absolute rest as long as we are away from home in this vale of tears.  It can and does bring us the Good News of Jesus, the rest for our souls, but we still experience anger and anxiety.” [p.124]  He continues: “My joy is not complete.  It cannot be, until God grants us all a blessed reunion in heaven.” [p.125]  God does not abandon you.  He loves you, and He understands your suffering.

I commend this book to you.  Grieve with Dr. Schulz.  Live under the cross of Jesus until He takes you to Himself, where all suffering ends.

Dr. Tactless

Some people say the wrong thing. Some people ask nosy questions. Some people say the wrong thing, ask nosy questions and make unhelpful predictions about the future. These are people you should avoid at all costs. This week I had no choice but to confront someone who has a reputation for not knowing the meaning of tact. Our regular medical practitioner was unavailable for our checkup, so we had the misfortune of seeing that guy. Here’s how the conversation played out. Keep in mind, the checkup was for the child, not me:

Dr. Tactless: Now, this one’s adopted?

Me: Yes.

Dr. Tactless: And you have another one who’s adopted, too, right?

Me: Yes, he’s eight now.

Dr. Tactless: So…is that something you planned to do, or was there something wrong?

Me: Well…I’ve only been pregnant once, and then I had a miscarriage.

Dr. Tactless: I see. So something is wrong with your system.

Me: We…uh…don’t know for sure. I’ve had some issues with endometriosis in the past but feel pretty healthy now.

Dr. Tactless: And your husband’s sperm count is normal?

Me: Ummm…he, uh,…he seems to be healthy, too.

Dr. Tactless: Hmmm…now how old are you again?

Me: Thirty-six.

Dr. Tactless: Oh, well, you know you could get a surprise later on.

Me: We would be open to surprises.

Dr. Tactless: You know, there’s nothing like the ink drying on adoption paperwork to make for a good fertility treatment (sly, know-it-all half-smile creeping up his face as he nods slowly). Well, the baby looks good. Come back in a month.

Sheesh. I couldn’t get out of that office fast enough.

Don’t you ever wish you could turn the tables, just for once, to show the other person what it feels like? If I could do this conversation all over again, this is how it would be:

Me: So, I don’t see a ring on your finger. Not married?

Dr. Tactless: No, I’m single.

Me: So…was that by choice, or is there something wrong with you?

Dr. Tactless: Uh…no, I was dating a women recently but she left the relationship. I would still like to get married someday.

Me: Hmmm…so something is wrong with you.

Dr. Tactless: I, uh, don’t know about that, exactly.

Me: Now, do you use deodorant and mouthwash regularly? That’s important, you know.

Dr. Tactless: Well, I think I smell OK.

Me: So now, how old are you again?

Dr. Tactless: I’m forty-nine.

Me: I see…You know, there’s this bar at the corner of ___ and____ where a lot of older, desperate women hang out on Friday nights. There’s nothing like a little desperation to get a relationship going (wink, wink). You should try that place. You just might get lucky.

A Change of Heart – Part 3

A continuation of A Change of Heart -Part 2…

Keisha couldn’t give me a due date. At one point she said it was the end of March and another time she said it was the beginning of April. She asked me to attend a doctor’s appointment with her that no one at the doctor’s office seemed to know anything about.  Things were getting really strange. Then in January the contact with Keisha diminished considerably. She wouldn’t return calls from the agency. She had stopped contacting me. I left messages for her to explain what the agency needed in order to continue preparations for the adoption. She finally called back in February to explain that her phone had been stolen and things were not good with the boyfriend again. Her voice was strained and she sounded tired and overwhelmed. She said she would call me back when things settled down.

I never heard from her again.

Ben and I had, on several occasions, given Keisha suggestions on ways to get out of her chaotic lifestyle, to find help, find a job, move out of the stressful situation she was living in and make a better home for her children. The agency had resources in place for this, too, which is why we had encouraged her to utilize them. But she didn’t and we couldn’t make her, nor did we feel comfortable stepping in and taking over the decisions that were hers to make.

March came and went and so did April. There was no last-minute phone call from the hospital, announcing that she had had the baby and was now ready to finish the adoption process. We had to face it: she had certainly had the baby by then and we were not going to be the parents.

The Lord, in His mercy, had protected our hearts from too much anticipation during this whole ordeal. On many occasions Ben and I discussed how this experience was more than likely just an opportunity to pray for this mother and her children, regardless of the outcome. The agency had warned us that these unusual “matchings” rarely resulted in a placement. We appreciated their candidness and acted on their advice on how to deal with Keisha. This caution kept us from experiencing a real heartbreak when the relationship gradually ceased. We were sincerely concerned for Keisha and her welfare, for the future of this new child and the other children, but we knew that we had done what we could to help and it wasn’t in our hands anymore. To this day we have no idea if Keisha had a boy or girl or if she’s raising the child herself. We sometimes wonder if she was ever really pregnant and if not, why did she act like it? We will probably never know. We just trust that she and her family are in the hands of our loving Heavenly Father, in whom she confessed a strong faith.

I still see the very young single moms at the bus stops and parks and grocery stores, but I look at them differently now. I consider what their pasts may have been like and what options they see for themselves for the future. Now I see not just what they have that I don’t, but I see what’s missing–what I have that they might not. I wonder if it’s a Keisha I’m passing by.

Seeing these women now stirs up compassion instead of jealousy. I have a new perspective that I didn’t have before I met Keisha and was welcomed into her life for such a brief period of time. Even though we invested so much of ourselves into this potential adoption without the joy of bringing a baby home, I still have to thank God for using this experience to open my eyes. I thank God for giving me a change of heart.

A Change of Heart – Part 2

A continuation of A Change of Heart – Part 1…

“I think we should call her,” Ben said as we stood in the kitchen that evening, going over the unbelievable events of the day. I had fumbled through the rest of the phone call with Keisha, eventually encouraging her to contact the agency we were already working with. I knew that they could provide her with some resources she might need, as well as be a facilitator between us if she was really serious about wanting to pursue adoption.

Ben continued, “If we are really open to this then we need to find out more about her and the birthfather and her situation so we can know all the facts. What if she decides not to contact the agency for some reason? We might never hear from her again.”

His sentiments both surprised and touched me. He was suggesting a much more aggressive approach than I would have considered and it reminded me that although he did not often express  his frustrations with this long wait for a second child, his desire to have a baby was just as strong as my own.

So I called Keisha. She was excited to hear from me again and heartily agreed to come over that very evening to meet Ben and continue our discussion. When she arrived she seemed a bit more timid in Ben’s presence, but still willingly answered the countless number of questions we threw at her.

During the conversation that evening and over the course of the next few months we obtained a picture of this woman and her life, both past and present, that brought to light the realities of what life is like for so many girls who grow up in a culture of poverty. Her father was never in the picture. Her mother was verbally abusive and their relationship now was strained and sporadic. The birthfather–her first and only boyfriend–was repeatedly unfaithful but yet the connection to his family provided her with a place to live, a family support system, and a father to the other three children they had had together. She felt trapped, without any real options in front of her for making a better life.

As she and I visited with each other during this time I couldn’t help but look at my own past and all the privileges I had had: married parents who loved me, moral guidance, boundaries, pastors, a Christian education, a selfless and faithful spouse…too many to count. And I looked at Keisha’s life and felt again a sense of injustice, but this time it wasn’t for me, it was for her.

We eventually had the opportunity to meet Keisha’s other children, whom she obviously loved dearly. Despite the fact that she had experienced very few healthy relationships in her own life, she was a gentle and attentive mother to these little ones who seemed to adore her. These children showered her with the love and affection that she had not received from anyone else in her life. Could it be that perhaps, despite her poor choices, these children were God’s gifts to her  to fill a need that no else had even tried to fill? She loved these children, but she felt that a fourth one would be more than she could handle  in her current living situation. Family members suggested abortion but this was not an option for her.

For four months we spoke with Keisha and the boyfriend, encouraging them to work with our adoption agency. While both of them seemed adamant that they could not raise this child and that we were the right family to do so, they were reluctant to follow through with visits to and from the agency social workers. “Why?” we kept wondering. “What was preventing them from making that next step?” This was not the only red flag that had emerged. There were others as well. Ben and I knew we needed to proceed with great caution. We prayed, we asked for advice, and we waited, all the while wondering if it was realistic to think that this baby would really be our own someday.

To be continued (and concluded)…

Puzzled

Our household does not have a dual income.  My husband is the provider.  I stay home, making our home a safe and pleasant place.  I enjoy preparing meals and tending my garden.  I don’t find quite so much joy in dusting and ironing (which I rarely do).

There are moments, too, when I have some free time.  I can read or sew.  Recently, I’ve started doing puzzles.  The current one has 500 pieces.  I’m frustrated by this puzzle because its colors are only various shades of brown.  I sit down to put some pieces together and walk away without finding a single match.  I get tense. I think, “I can’t even put together a puzzle.  How could I be expected to have a baby?”  During those moments, I wonder if I should go back into the work force.  Maybe I’d feel better about myself if I was “contributing to society” instead of “tending the hearth.”

Therein lies my sin.  I’ve started listening to the voices of society.  They say, “Get out there and do something.”  That’s when it’s time to redirect my attention. It’s time to listen to the voice of Jesus, the Good Shepherd.  What does He tell me in Scripture?  I need to confess my sin of idolatry.  The Lord will provide for the needs of my family.  He has already given me His Word and Holy Sacraments.  I am forgiven; I am His child.

I have no idea what God’s plan is for me regarding family life.  I don’t know if my family size will grow or remain the same.  I don’t know if there will ever be grandchildren.  Who will care for me and my husband in our golden years?

The Lord knows.  He is the One who formed me.  He knew me in my mother’s womb.  He knows my life’s steps.  He has given me the vocations of wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend.  I don’t have to worry about how to make everything fit into its proper place.  God has it covered; He’s taking care of everything.  No need for me to be puzzled about that.

A Change of Heart – Part 1

Living in a large city has been an eye-opening experience for my family. We had previously been surrounded by primarily white, middle-class communities. Not anymore. We now live among people of various ethnicities and cultures, many of whom are living in poverty and do not have traditional family units. I see this almost every day that I leave my house. Single moms wait at bus stops with several children in tow.  I see high school girls walking home after school, several with bellies protruding, evidence of the life they carry within. At first it was hard to see these girls day after day and not feel a great deal of injustice. It appeared that lack of self-control and poor decision-making were being rewarded by God when my husband of 14 years and I continued to wait for a child. It felt unfair.

We are on the Caucasian waiting list with our adoption agency. The decision to have our names on the Caucasian list as opposed to the list that includes all races was not made flippantly, nor have we resolved to only have white children in our family. Because we have a choice as to what list we go on we picked the Caucasian list, but we’ve always agreed that if an opportunity to parent a child of a different race was dropped in our lap we would certainly be open to this. And then, one warm and bright October morning, the opportunity arrived–not in our laps, exactly, but on our doorstep.

“Keisha” rang our doorbell with the intent to ask some questions about the “for sale” sign in our front lawn. She and the large family she was living with were looking to move out of their small apartment and they wanted to remain in the same neighborhood. She loved our house and had been admiring it for several weeks. Although I would not normally have invited in a perfect stranger to take a tour, for some reason I felt very comfortable with her and asked if she’d like to take a look around. I was thrilled that someone was showing some interest in the place. We hadn’t had many lookers.

Keisha was sweet, with a wide smile that brightened the room and starkly contrasted her dark skin. She had a calm, confident presence about her, perhaps accentuated by her tall, brood figure. In our conversation during the tour it somehow came out that our son had been adopted and we were hoping to adopt more children. Keisha was intrigued  by this fact and commented on how well Caleb seemed to fit into the family and how content and cheerful he was. She soon left with the realtor’s number and mine in her hand and I prayed that the experience might move us a little closer to getting this house sold.

Not twenty minutes later I received a phone call from her. We exchanged the initial greetings and then, after a quiet moment of hesitation, she blurted out, “I’m pregnant. And I’ve been thinking about adoption. You were so kind to me when I was in your home and your son seems like he is so loved and so happy. I really feel like you’re the family I’ve been looking for.” I almost dropped the phone.

To be continued…

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]

+   +   +   +   +   +   +

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.