Men

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


+Anastasia+

Thank you, Pastor Chepulis, for writing these words of comfort and for sharing them with us for our benefit:

On July 5th, 2011, I stared at the deafeningly silent ultrasound monitor.  I watched the technician stoically glare at the screen, her foot nervously shaking.  No heartbeat.  The only sounds were the rapid thumping of my own heart and the gentle humming of the ultrasound machine.  We learned our first child had died around the tenth week of pregnancy.

We went back to the hospital very early the next morning to have the child surgically removed- an extremely long and silent 85-mile drive to Grand Forks, ND.  Then, the following week, my wife Amy and I, along with our families, gathered at the cemetery of St. Paul Lutheran Church in rural St. Thomas, ND, where our circuit counselor officiated a grave-side service for our little one.  

David confesses, “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.  Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.  My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.  Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” (Psalm 139:13-16) God creates life; life that begins even at the earliest stage of development. 

God saw our little one as she was being intricately woven together.  He lovingly formed her body and imparted to her a soul.  Our child is a person created by God; a person for whom Christ Jesus suffered, died, and was raised again; a person who is loved by God and her mother and father.

There is Gospel for faithful Christian parents.  Not that the faith of the parents save their child, but as parents who prayed for the child and brought him or her to church, Christian parents are to be distinguished from those of other religions; and Luther certainly sets his thoughts this way. 

A good friend of Luther’s, Rev. John Bugenhagen, wrote a commentary on Psalm 29 and in the appendix to his book Luther wrote about Christian women who suffer  miscarriages, “…because the mother is a believing Christian it is to be hoped that her heartfelt cry and deep longing to bring her child to be baptized will be accepted by God as an effective prayer.  It is true that a Christian in deepest despair does not dare to name, wish, or hope for the help (as it seems to him) which he would wholeheartedly and gladly purchase with his own life, were that possible, and in doing so thus find comfort…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…”  (Luther’s Works: AE Volume 43; Copyright 1968; Fortress Press; Published Concordia Publishing House; Saint Louis, Missouri, page 247, 248)

The Lord has heard the prayers offered on behalf of the child by her mother, father, friends and family.  Prayer isn’t simply psycho-therapy to make one feel better but they ascend to God like sweet incense, and He is, indeed, moved by them.  We don’t just wag our tongues in prayer, but God Himself has promised to hear them.  

We have been given hope and comfort from a God who hears the petitions offered to Him  by His people; hope and comfort that flow from the grace and mercy of our Lord, who came to earth, died on a cross for our sins, for even the sins of our little child.  He went to the deathly grave, but it couldn’t hold Him; rather, He was spit back out.  Jesus has conquered death and the grave for us.  He is risen and has given the promise that all who trust in His work of salvation we will be raised to new life in Him on the last day. 

What a gift our Lord has given us!  Forgiveness, salvation, and eternal life graciously given to us through the death and resurrection of Jesus.  Gifts He continues to give through Baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and the precious Word of His Gospel.  All the benefits that Jesus won on the cross are given to us through these ordinary means; gifts that our child was given, even as she was developing in the womb.

Though our child, of course, wasn’t baptized, her mother dutifully brought the child to church where the Gospel was preached.  The child wasn’t sprinkled with the waters of baptism, but was immersed in the Gospel each Sunday and in our home devotions.  The Word is active and alive.  It creates faith and trust in Christ.  “Faith comes by hearing and hearing through the Word of Christ,” Paul writes in Romans 10:17.  The Word of God is powerful and efficacious enough to penetrate the womb and enter the unformed ears of a child.  

It is interesting to note that when Jesus healed the deaf and mute man (Mark 7:31-37), the Lord opens his ears by speaking.  Jesus said to the man, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be open” and it was so.  The spoken Words of Jesus were the cure for the man’s deafness and his sin.  At the command of Christ, His Word entered into the ears of a deaf man and caused, not only his ears to become open, but also imparted to him faith.  The tongue that Jesus loosed immediately began to proclaim Christ.  As the Word of God entered and restored a deaf man’s ears, so too has it entered the unformed ears of our child.

Our child, even in the womb, was given faith in Christ.  She trusted in a Lord who redeemed her.  Some might say, “How can a child know of such things?”  Faith and knowledge are two very different things.  A small child can have faith, but not theological knowledge and a person can have all the theological knowledge in the world but lack faith.  We’re not saved by how much we know about God, but through the grace of God brought to us through Christ; that is received by the faith that He gives through His gifts of the Gospel, Baptism, and the Lord’s Supper.  (Matthew 19:14) “Let the little children come to me,” Jesus says.  Even a child so small can have faith.

David’s child is a good example of this.  After his adultery with Bathsheba, the child which resulted in this adulterous affair dies.  Not only does the child die, but he dies on the 7th day, (2 Sam. 12:18) one day short of being brought into the covenant of God through circumcision.  Yet David confidently says, “I shall go to him [his child], but he will not return to me.”  (2 Sam. 12:23b)  David looks to the resurrection where he will go to his son in heaven.  He proclaims the trust in a merciful God who has received David’s child.  David also makes his confession in the resurrection, that he will see his son again in the flesh.  There, at the joyful reunion in Paradise, we will see our child again.  What joy to know, what a wonderful promise we’ve been given. 

That’s what the Lord does.  He doesn’t always give us answers to all our questions, He gives us promises.  He promises that though we are sinners from conception, Christ has paid for our sins and the sinful nature we inherited from Adam’s fall.  He promises that on the last day, He will raise all the dead from their graves and give eternal life to all who trust in Christ.  This is our hope and joy.

A hope and joy that we wish to confess.  We don’t know the gender of our child but regardless of gender, we decided to name our child Anastasia.  The name Anastasia comes from the Greek word ἀνάστασις (anastasis), which means “resurrection.”  Whenever we think of our child’s name, we remember the promise the God has given.  The remains of our child that we recently buried won’t remain there forever, but will be raised again out of the grave and we’ll see our child in the flesh.  We look forward to seeing Anastasia again at the glorious return of Christ, when He will return to resurrect and bring to Himself all His faithful people.  We take great comfort that death has been swallowed up in Christ’s victory.  (1 Cor. 15:54b)  

Hope and joy, even in the death of a child.  God has heard our prayers, worked faith through His Word, and has given eternal life to one so small.   We commend our child to a merciful God, who has conquered death for you, me, and our child; looking to the resurrection of all flesh and the joyful reunion in Paradise.

Rev. Mark Chepulis
Our Savior Lutheran Church, Cavalier, ND

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.

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.