Men

The Sisterhood of Suffering

by Kristi Leckband

The apostle Paul writes these words in 1 Corinthians 12:26 — “And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it.”

There is so much suffering in this world. We, the members of the body of Christ have suffered much. We have not suffered all, for Christ took that upon Himself for us. We should have suffered death, eternal death. God, in His mercy, sacrificed His own beloved Son, so that we might not suffer eternal death. God is gracious!

And now, dear friends, we can help carry the burden of suffering with our sisters in the faith. It’s sad to hear that a friend’s pregnancy has failed. Your sister in Christ tries to be strong, but it hurts so much. The birth mother chose to care for her child rather than place the little one in your dear friend’s arms. Your friend’s arms are heavy with sorrow but empty of children. Your friend’s children despise her as a parent. She questions where she went wrong.

What, as the Body of Christ, can we do? What can happen within the sisterhood of suffering? I have some ideas.

The sisterhood of suffering is one where you can…

NOT offer her false promises.
NOT tell her to simply “get over it.”
NOT dismiss her pain.
NOT ignore her tears.
NOT judge her sorrow.
NOT look the other way.
NOT leave her to drown in her despair.

The sisterhood of suffering is one where you can…

spend time with her.
hug her.
sit quietly beside her.
cry with her.
acknowledge her pain.
speak truthfully to her.
pray for her.
share God’s Word with her.

We are called to care for one another, and I’ve listed only a handful of ways we can do this. When one sister suffers, many suffer. We can only help bear the burden when we KNOW one another. Thus, we spend time together. We ask questions. We listen to one another. By the grace of God, He will help us share the suffering of a hurting sister. Can we take the hurt away? No, but perhaps we can be the hand of God to hug her. Perhaps we can be the voice who reminds her that God loves her and does not forsake her. Perhaps we can hand that pens a note of encouragement to her.

St. Paul exhorts us with these words from Romans 12:15 — “Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.”

Dear sisters, let us love one another in the sisterhood of suffering.

A Bit of Hosting

by Kristi Leckband

For years, I prayed that my table would seat a gaggle of children. However, the Lord did not fill my table with children. Rather, He taught me that my table can seat people of all ages, and they do not have to be born of my womb.

Upon our move into this house, we have hosted many people in our home. Some come for a meal. Some stay for several days. One even stayed for a couple of months.

And we LOVE it. We share holiday meals with college students and friends who are not able to see family. We host evening gatherings for friends. While we did some hosting in our first home in Nebraska (many nights of cards), we do even more of it here. Part of that is the result of more space in our house. Part of it is because our children are old enough to handle a break from the home routine. Part of it is they can handle a later bedtime. Our dining table does not seat just five of us anymore. We have the privilege of welcoming others to a meal around our table, and it is delightful.

When you open your home to others, you invite them to share community with you. It tells your guests that you want to know more about them. It shows them that you care.

Hosting doesn’t have to be a big, fancy meal. It can be something as simple as dessert one evening. Perhaps you have young children at home. You can be the one to arrange a playdate for others; that’s hosting. Maybe your home seems too small to have a lot of people in it. Invite a small group or just one or two others. Hosting doesn’t mean you have to put on a big party. If your friend asks what she can bring, let her. Keep it small and simple. Ask her to bring some crackers or some fruit or some wine. Invite a friend over to play a game. Share a cup of tea.

The purpose of hospitality is to spend time together. True friends are not coming to inspect the cleanliness of your home. (Please make sure your bathroom is clean, though.) They are coming to be with you. The Lord desires us to be in fellowship with one another. He invites us to befriend our neighbors. We value people, and we want to support them in good and bad times. We can do this better when we actually KNOW them. When you share your table with others, you share yourself. That, in turn, invites others to share of themselves with you.

I taught my children that family doesn’t just have to be your blood relation. They learned that through adoption. I also wanted them to see that the people with whom we share time can become our family. This includes the older woman who treats my children as her grandchildren. This includes the unmarried college man who desires a spouse. This includes the young couple who await children of their own. This includes the high school students who need to see a stable family in action. All are important, and all need our love.

When we’re hosting people, my children get excited. They want to help get ready for our friends. In younger years, they would make name cards for everyone. Now they help set the table. They help prepare the meal. They pour drinks. They clear the table. They sit and listen to adult conversation. They laugh, and they ponder. It’s the blessing of community.

Our Lord creates the perfect community in the Lord’s Supper. He is the ultimate Host. He spreads a table before us and gives us to eat and drink of His very own Body and Blood. His is the perfect meal, and we are His guests.

It is now our privilege to extend that kindness to others. Perhaps you’ve wanted to host people in your home but just aren’t sure what to do. Know that you can do it. Maybe you start by meeting somebody at a coffee shop. Go for a walk with someone. Get together for appetizers one evening. Hosting doesn’t have to be a big production. Find what you can manage and start there. It’s really about treating others with loving care.

I’d love to host you in my home sometime.

Reasons We Never Used IVF – #3

by Katie Schuermann

For IVF to work, my husband would need to collect his own sperm and hand it over to a stranger for handling.

The primary means of collecting sperm in IVF is for a man to masturbate¹ in a clinic while looking at images of women other than his wife. There are other options for collecting a man’s sperm (surgical removal, Onan’s method, etc.), but none of these options are good for my husband, nor are they beneficial to our marriage.

I just asked my husband if he has any regrets about never masturbating all of those years ago, though we still have no children today. He says no.

1 “The usual way to collect sperm is to masturbate into a cup.” WebMD.com

If your conscience is burdened because you used IVF, know that you are not alone in your regrets. The apostle Paul teaches us in his letter to the Romans that “none is righteous, no, not one” (Rom. 3:10). He also writes that “there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1). Please, talk to your pastor or a trusted Christian friend about your regrets, and put your faith in Jesus’ words from the cross about His work of salvation on our behalf: “It is finished” (John 19:30). Because of Christ’s mercy, we can live our lives looking backward in repentance yet forward in hope.

Reasons We Never Used IVF – #2

by Katie Schuermann

Though it was confusing — even embarrassing — in our marriage to be one flesh year after year but never pregnant, we understood that it went against God’s will to separate what He joined together (Matthew 19:6) in our one-flesh union.

For to force humans into existence outside of God’s procreative design of coitus would require harvesting and handing over our gametes (sperm and eggs) to a clinician who would then mix them in a petri dish in a cold room away from us. This separates what God has joined together in our marriage bed, and that goes against our religion.

Contest Details

Andy Bates and Sarah Gulseth of KFUO Radio’s “The Coffee Hour” chatted with us last week about our Lenten writing contest.

Listen here for details on what we’re looking for in your submission on the prompt, “I waited patiently for the LORD; He inclined to me and heard my cry” (Psalm 40:1).

Remember, this contest is for anyone who breathes, has chromosomes, and reads the Bible.

Submit your entries to katie@katieschuermann.com by noon on March 25th to be considered for the grand prize: a museum-quality giclée print (14.7″ x 18″) of artist Edward Riojas’ cover art for the second edition of He Remembers the Barren.

Happy pondering and writing!

BARREN giclee image

Jewelry Box

iur He snuck up to my table when no one else was there.

“I know a bit of what you talk about.”

He paused, so I waited. I wasn’t quite certain what part of my presentation had resounded with him, and I didn’t want to assume.

“My only daughter was stillborn.”

Ah.

Something happens in my cheeks whenever someone tells me this. I don’t know what it looks like from the outside, but from the inside, it feels as if my skin releases from my muscles, as if my cheeks — in dutiful obedience to the speaker’s command — move into proper riverbed formation to direct the flow of any incoming tears.

“What was — is — your daughter’s name?”

“Sarah. She was born in 19 _ _.”

My breath caught in my throat. We looked at each other, and I debated whether or not to say it. What if I made things worse?

“That’s the year I was born. I am the age of your Sarah.”

He smiled and wiped a lone tear from one of his own riverbeds.

Then he told me stories. Stories about his work, about the many miscarriages his wife suffered after Sarah, about the way the children in his church would come up and start talking to him — “It hasn’t all been bad,” he assured. — about his love of working with wood, about how he made his wife’s casket when she died.

“She was the jewel of my life,” he said, “so I made a jewelry box to hold her.”

I don’t know how that gentleman felt when he eventually walked away from me, but I felt thankful that Sarah had — has — a father such as him to remember her and miss her and love her still.

What about Miscarriages?

Rev. Peter Eckardt – husband to Allison, father to +Jordan+, and Associate Pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church and School in Alexandria, Virginia – recently wrote a letter of comfort and support to his congregation about the tender subject of miscarriage. We are most thankful to him for allowing us to share this letter with all of you.

* * * * *

What about Miscarriages?

What do you do when you experience a miscarriage? This is a question that no expectant couple wants to address and yet desperately needs the answers to as soon as tragedy strikes.

Allison and I were expecting our first child. We were excited, nervous, terrified, and overjoyed all at the same time. We were reading books and pamphlets, downloading pregnancy-tracking apps, and talking to numerous mothers and fathers—all to prepare us for the rest of the pregnancy, for birth, and for everything that was to follow. We were learning more and more about our baby’s development. At 8 weeks gestation, we had already heard and seen the baby’s heartbeat via ultrasound—how special that was! But at 10 weeks and 6 days, we were completely unprepared for the miscarriage that happened in the middle of the night.

‪QUESTIONS

‪In the hours and days following the miscarriage that Allison and I experienced a month ago, several questions flooded our minds, and we had little idea of what the “right thing to do” was. We were able to preserve the remains of our baby, but now what? Can we, should we, bury our child? How would we go about doing that? Can we have a funeral service at the church for our unbaptized infant? Is that sort of thing done? What comfort do we have, if any, that our baby is in heaven? Should we name him or her?

Those of you who have experienced a miscarriage may have your own set of questions you’d like to add to this list. I will not attempt to answer all miscarriage-related questions in this letter—and, indeed, not all of them have a clear, right or wrong answer—but I’d like to at least begin the conversation with a few points.

‪HOPE‪
GOD’S POWER IS BOUNDLESS

‪If you have had a miscarriage, I want you to know that there are many promises of peace and hope for you and for your departed little one. You need not fear that, because your child was not able to be baptized, he or she is therefore unable to be included in God’s kingdom. Though God indeed attaches his promises of grace and forgiveness to His holy sacraments, He does not limit His power to these sacraments. Unbaptized, the thief on the cross comes to faith in his final hour and is told by our Lord the he will be with Him in Paradise (Luke 23:43). God is the maker of heaven and earth; He can do all things.

GOD HEARS OUR PRAYERS

Moreover, we know that “the effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man [i.e., a Christian!] avails much (James 5:16). Our Lord tells us to ask and it will be given to us (Matt. 7:7) and that whatever we ask in His name, He will give us (John 14:13). Likewise, God says in Psalm 50, “Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you” (Psalm 50:15). And even if we have not prayed as we ought, the Spirit offers prayers for us in our weakness (Rom. 8:26-27). The Lutheran Service Book Agenda, which has a rite of “Burial for a Stillborn Child or Unbaptized Child,” states: “While alive and in the womb, this child was brought and commended to Christ in our prayers. We should not doubt that these prayers have been heard, for we have God’s own kind and comforting promises that such prayers in the name of Jesus Christ are heard by Him” (132).

IMG_7208 copy Martin Luther wrote a letter of comfort for women who have had a miscarriage, and in it he also emphasizes the power of Christian prayer: “One should not despise a Christian person as if he were a Turk, a pagan, or a godless person. He is precious in God’s sight and his prayer is powerful and great, for he has been sanctified by Christ’s blood and anointed with the Spirit of God. Whatever he sincerely prays for, especially in the unexpressed yearning of his heart, becomes a great, unbearable cry in God’s ears, God must listen, as he did to Moses, Exodus 14 [:15], ‘Why do you cry to me?’ even though Moses couldn’t whisper, so great was his anxiety and trembling in the terrible troubles that beset him.” (Read entire letter here.)

‪THE HOLY SPIRIT CAN WORK THROUGH THE WOMB

‪As Scripture teaches, we believe that infants can receive the Holy Spirit and the gift of faith without yet being able to rationally hear and understand the words of Scripture. The infant John the Baptist leapt for joy in Elizabeth’s womb when he heard the sound of Mary’s greeting (Luke 1:39-45). This was surely the work of the Holy Spirit, for He is able to create faith even through the womb. It is indeed true that “with God all things are possible” (Matt 19:26).

‪JESUS LOVES LITTLE ONES

‪Consider also how our Lord Jesus shows compassion toward the littlest of children, praising their faith. In one instance, Jesus sets a little child in the midst of his disciples and says, “Unless you turn and become like children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. . . . See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven. . . . It is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish” (Matt. 18:3, 10, 11). In another instance, “they were bringing even infants to [Jesus] that he might touch them. And when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them to him, saying, ‘Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God'” (Luke 18:15-17). There is no question that Jesus has a special, tender regard for the little ones.

‪GOD KNOWS US FROM CONCEPTION

‪Psalm 139 speaks beautifully of God’s intimate knowledge and care of his children, even from their conception in the womb:

‪“For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
‪I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. . . .
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
(Ps. 139:13-16)

‪WE SHALL GO TO THEM

‪Finally, a passage I find particularly poignant and comforting is the account of the death of King David’s first child in 2 Samuel 12:15-23. David’s son is afflicted by God upon birth and dies after seven days (significant because his circumcision—the Old Testament equivalent to the sacrament of Baptism—would have been on the eighth day). During that time, David beseeches the Lord to be merciful and to spare his son from death. But when the child dies, he stops mourning, worships the Lord, and says, “I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.” With these words David appears to be expressing hope in the resurrection and in a blessed reunion with his son in heaven.

With all of this in mind, answers to some of the previously-mentioned questions start to become clearer. Yes, you may have comfort that your unbaptized child who died an untimely death has been brought to the arms of Jesus in paradise and awaits the resurrection. Yes, you may ask your pastor for a funeral service in the church. And yes, you may give your miscarried children a Christian burial.

‪BURIAL

There is no single right way to bury your miscarried baby, nor is it even possible in many cases, depending on the situation. Sometimes, the remains are not able to be preserved, parents do not know that they can preserve them, or they unknowingly dispose of them. If the miscarriage happens at a hospital, for instance, the couple may have to insist that they be given the remains for the purpose of burial. Otherwise, the remains may simply be disposed of by the hospital as a matter of protocol. For Christian parents who did not or were not able to keep the remains of their child for burial, there is no need to be burdened with guilt or regret. Take heart, and know that our good and gracious Lord holds your child in His arms regardless of the state of your baby’s bodily remains and that He can and will resurrect your child on the Last Day even without a burial site. Our God is abounding in steadfast love, forgiveness, and mercy to both you and your little ones.

‪For those who are able, however, it is a good and commendable thing to keep the remains of a miscarried baby and to seek an appropriate avenue for Christian burial. Ask your pastor for guidance, as each situation may be unique. Though the world around us pays little attention to miscarriages and often expects mothers and fathers to simply move on or to get over the miscarriage quickly, we Christians have an opportunity to boldly confess that a baby who dies by miscarriage—and who may only be a few centimeters long and a few weeks old—is just as much a human life created by God as you or I. Whenever a miscarriage happens, we ought to acknowledge both the very real life of the child that has ended, and the very real loss that the parents are undergoing. And as Christians, we must not forget to confess our hope in Jesus Christ, our God and Savior, whose good and gracious will is always better than ours. “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28).

‪Allison and I decided to have our baby Jordan buried in Richmond, VA, at Mt. Calvary Cemetery. This particular cemetery donates land specifically for the burial of miscarried babies. Burial services are also provided through the goodwill and cooperation of the The Catholic Diocese of Richmond, Bliley Funeral home, and Richmond area hospitals. They conduct burials of miscarried infants about once month, reverently interring several miscarried children together in a single plot of land. Tiny white caskets are used with the names of the babies placed on each. Allison and I were in Richmond this past Wednesday for our baby Jordan’s burial. We are extremely grateful for this gracious program and have talked about how nice it would be if more such programs were available for Christian families.

‪There is much more to say on this entire topic, and I plan to do so another time in order to comfort and assist those who have been and will be affected by miscarriage. It is, unfortunately, a common tragedy among us, but its frequency does not make it any less sorrowful.

‪”The last enemy to be destroyed is death” (1 Cor. 15:26).

‪In closing I’d like to offer this prayer from the LSB Agenda for all who have lost children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews, through miscarriage:

‪Heavenly Father, Your Son bore all our griefs and carried all our sorrows. Strengthen the faith of these grieving parents and all who bear this heavy burden. Help them to rely on Your boundless mercy and to trust that their little one, who has been gathered into Your loving arms, will rise on the Last Day; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

‪Blessings in Christ,
Pastor Eckardt

Trust in the Lord

jacob-wrestling copy I was sitting in the hot seat at KFUO, listening to my husband respond to the radio show host’s question of what it means to deal with barrenness as a man, when I heard him say this:

“This cross [of barrenness] is one of the ways the Lord is teaching us to trust more fully in Him and in His will. He wants us to trust Him on this even when we have not received this particular gift that He gives.”

The wrestling angel released his death grip on my conscience, my hip went back into its socket, and I saw again the Lord’s blessing on my childless marriage. We get to trust in the Lord. Our barrenness is a gift, an opportunity to trust in God further, to trust in Him still, to trust in Him regardless, for He promises to work all things for our good. A wave of comfort washed over me like an anointing, its soothing rivulets of warm, sweet-smelling oil streaming down my neck and my spine.

It is not a new concept, this trusting in the Lord, but I still need to hear it over and over again that my baptized heart might believe and be comforted.

Luther writes about it this way in his Large Catechism (I:2-3):

“A god means that from which we are to expect all good and in which we are to take refuge in all distress. So, to have a God is nothing other than trusting and believing Him with the heart. I have often said that the confidence and faith of the heart alone make both God and an idol. If your faith and trust is right, then your god is also true. On the other hand, if your trust is false and wrong, then you do not have the true God. For these two belong together, faith and God. Now, I say that whatever you set your heart on and put your trust in is truly your god.”

Lord, help me ever to set my heart on and put my trust in You, not in motherhood. For Jesus’ sake, amen.

Warfare against the Enemy

The enemy was swift, a stealth narthex ninja pervading the unsuspecting Sunday crowd. In silence, he tracked his foe below eye level like the invisible eleventh plague.

I heard a cry, the grievous moan of a fallen warrior, and I spun around on my black-sandaled heal to find my pastor wounded, crumpled on the gray tile floor in a pool of his own, thick blood.

His leg was missing.

“Noooo!” I howled, lurching for the scene, but the enemy was too quick, too skilled, too bent upon his prey. He raised his saber high and abruptly, mercilessly went for the kill.

I won’t soon forget the violent sight of my limbless pastor bleeding on the floor, nor the sound of the nearby churchy witnesses gasping and hiding their faces behind shaking hands.

But not all hope was lost.

The enemy, in his reckless drive towards victory, had committed one fatal mistake. He had paused in his final strike, and I, as a result, had caught a glimpse of his red-and-black weapon. It was not just any saber. It was a rolled up edition of The Lutheran Witness.

In that moment, I did what any self-respecting Lutheran woman would do. I reached for the shield of choice, the only one which could deflect the blows of such a force. I reached for the large-print edition of The Portals of Prayer and held on for dear life.

“Aaaaahhhhh!!!” The enemy cried, rushing towards me like a mad bull towards a quivering red cape, but I held strong.

“Fzzzzzzzzz,” the electric forcefield of my Portals of Prayer pulsed, deflecting blow after blow from my three-foot-high foe.

There is an end to this story, one which defies all laws of physics and copyright. The enemy’s parents soon intervened, corralling boyish violence towards the family van, and, according to the promises we the Baptized hold dear, the pastor did indeed miraculously resurrect in time for Sunday lunch.

The moral of this story?

Well, I can make no promises as to whether or not the Portals of Prayer always succeeds in overcoming The Lutheran Witness in force and power nor as to whether or not the size of the font matters in the end, but I can say this:

A childless pastor and his wife sure know how to have fun with Little Lutherans after church.

Isaac Pleaded

In my selfishness, I forget that my husband bears the cross of barrenness, too. I forget that my empty womb is a cross that he also shares.

Isaac also experienced the same cross. He and his wife Rebekah did not have any children. His father Abraham had been told that he would be the father of nations. Isaac knew that this meant his family would need to have descendants. Thus, Isaac took his concern to the Lord. As a loving spouse, he pleaded to God for his wife because they were barren.

Genesis 25:19-21

New King James Version (NKJV)

19 This is the genealogy of Isaac, Abraham’s son. Abraham begot Isaac. 20 Isaac was forty years old when he took Rebekah as wife, the daughter of Bethuel the Syrian of Padan Aram, the sister of Laban the Syrian. 21 Now Isaac pleaded with the Lord for his wife, because she was barren; and the Lord granted his plea, and Rebekah his wife conceived.

God heard Jacob’s prayer. Only by His grace and mercy, God granted twins to Rebekah and Jacob.

May we be so bold as to always take our concerns to our Father in heaven. May we also thank God for our spouses, who share the cross of barrenness with us.