Suffering

Thy Kingdom Come

I like to download episodes of Issues, Etc. onto my phone and then take them out on walks with me.

One sunny day in Dallas, I put in my earbuds, stretched my calves and hamstrings, clicked “play” on my phone, and hit the pavement.

(Cue the familiar “Viva la Vida” bump music by Coldplay.)

As I settled into a comfortable stride, the host Todd Wilken introduced that day’s program: a sermon review of some preacher in Indiana, one Rev. David Petersen. Now, I was no dummy Lutheran. I had heard of the guy. He was that chasuble-wearing pastor at Redeemer Lutheran Church in Fort Wayne, the leader of those Rudisillians, a staunchly loyal breed of Lutherans with whom I had bumped elbows on many occasions.

“Repent.” Rev. Petersen spoke into my ears. “You are vain, and you worship yourself.”

P1020576Woah. How did he know? I looked around the subdivision I was circling. Had anyone seen me blush? Only some crape myrtle trees and those crazy, bug-eyed grackles.

“There is One who needs no repentance,” he continued, preaching from the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin in Luke 15. “…These parables are not about us, and in our fallen flesh we always think everything is about us. These parables are about Him, the Christ, who needs no repentance.”

I noticed that I had slowed down. In fact, I was standing still on the curb, looking up the street but seeing nothing. Well, I was seeing something. I was seeing my reflection in Rev. Petersen’s words, and it wasn’t pretty. It’s never pretty when you stare your Sin in the face, when your conscience plays chicken with a Law-wielding pastor. This guy was telling me that I turn everything, even Scripture, into something about myself. And he was right.

My Old Adam lay slain on the pavement.

“‘I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous persons who need no repentance.’ And this is the great surprise. The holy angels rejoice over every sinner who repents more than they ever rejoice over a single, perfect, and holy Messiah who needs no repentance.

…Every sinner on earth, everyone infected with both original and actual sin, everyone in bondage, every habitual sinner, every liar, every betrayer, every pharisee, every pervert, every fraud, every braggart, every drug dealer, terrorist, adulterer, and child pornographer, every selfish, proud person on this planet who repents is worth more joy in heaven than 99 perfect and holy messiahs.

You do not only outrank the sparrows in terms of causing joy in heaven, you outrank God in the flesh. You are worth more than 100 times – at least in terms of joy – you are worth more than 100 times Jesus. Jesus, God in the flesh, does not cause the holy angels of heaven to rejoice even 100th as much as you – your repentance and faith – do.” 

Why? Because Jesus, the Messiah, who needs no repentance, is rejected in heaven, and that rejection effects/causes/is the means of the rescue, the salvation, and the redemption of the world, of sinners. “

Okay, by this point, I was a mess. Not a hot, sticky, summer-in-Texas kind of mess but a weeping, liquidated-and-redeemed by the Law and Gospel kind of mess. I found myself walking back and forth on the same square of sidewalk, trying desperately to hold it together for the sake of the Lexuses and BMWs that were now driving by my little piece of universe.

With the blessed Word, this Midwestern pastor had gunned down the black heart of an insignificant pastor’s wife way down below the Mason-Dixon line and then resuscitated it back to life with the precious, life-giving blood of Christ, all within a span of a few minutes.

Needless to say, I didn’t get much of a workout that day, but I did start downloading more Issues, Etc. episodes, especially the ones with the word “Petersen” in the tag line.

I am a proper Pastor Petersen junkie, now. Though I have never met the man, I can’t get enough of his piercingly honest bedside manner when he diagnoses my Sin-sick Old Adam, and he never fails to prescribe the Word-rich remedy which my disease requires: Christ crucified for my redemption.

For this reason, it is my pleasure to inform you that Emmanuel Press recently published Thy Kingdom Come, a collection of Lent and Easter sermons written by Rev. Petersen.

thykingdomcome300

Now, you don’t need to live on Rudisill Boulevard or own an iPod to receive the Word from this beloved pastor. You can simply order this book and let Rev. Petersen preach a sermon to you over and over again, page after fortifying page.

“Faith has no strength in itself,” Rev. Petersen reminds us. “If the faith planted in us is not tended by the Word and Sacraments, it will wither and die…He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”*

Or, in this case, he who has eyes to read, let him read Thy Kingdom Come for the strengthening of his faith.

* (Petersen, Thy Kingdom Come, 5-8)

On the Night before Christmas…

…everyone turned in their blog posts.

Just a quick reminder:

What: Second Annual Writing Contest
Who: Anyone and everyone (women, men, married, single, barren, and blessed) can submit a post.
Topic: “My Suffering Is a Blessing”
Rules: Simply compose your post of 600 words or less in an email and send it to katie@katieschuermann.com by December 25th. The winner will be announced on Epiphany (January 6th). Please be sure to include your name and shipping address in the email.
Prize: Winner will receive a free copy of He Remembers the Barren and a SURPRISE! The top three finalists will also see their posts featured on our website.

Love and joy come to you,

Your HRTB Hosts

pooh think

Think, think, think.

Tattling Trees

20071230-2014My husband and I recently attended a Christmas party hosted by a lovely couple in their autumn years of life. As the wife showed me around their festive home, she pointed out the various ornaments on the trees they had decorated in each room.

“We made all of these ornaments by hand.” She pointed to the tallest tree in the living room. Each ornament had been wrapped in a lush fabric and adorned with colored beads and shiny ribbons. The effect was regal and folky at the same time, like a Russian ballroom before the revolution.

“My students gave me these,” she smiled. This tree was smaller and shinier, teeming with tinselly holiday fare from the fifties and sixties.

As my hostess showed me everything that twinkled and glowed, I noticed something. None of the trees in the house graced ornaments made by beloved daughters or sons. I suppose I have a nose for this kind of thing, because my tree is absent of such fare, as well. I took a risk.

“Do you have any children?”

“No,” she said rather flatly.

“We haven’t been blessed with children, either.”

She turned around to look at me. “It used to hurt really bad, but then…”

I watched her search for the right words. “But then you realized you have life to live?”

“Yes.”

I looked around at her trees filled with memories of students, friends, parents, siblings, and time spent with her husband. Life to live, indeed.

An Awkward Christmas Gift

I know, I know.

He Remembers the Barren is not exactly the kind of gift you want to wrap up and put under the tree for your loved one. Who wants to open a package and find this inside instead of something from Williams-Sonoma?

HRTB.Proof 1

I mean, did you see the cover? Talk about awkward when everyone else around the tree stops and asks your loved one, “Ooo, what did you get?”

And, let’s be honest, the book doesn’t exactly make a great stocking stuffer, either. It would go over like a detonated grenade amongst the dark chocolate, fuzzy socks, and iTunes gift cards.

Yet, I still think He Remembers the Barren  is a good gift worthy of giving, because the holidays can be one of the most difficult times of the year for a barren woman. She can’t escape her grief when she is surrounded by children’s Christmas programs at church, family dinners galore, and greeting cards introducing everybody else’s newest editions to their families; she has to endure renditions of Connie Francis’s “Baby’s First Christmas” over the sound system whenever she goes shopping; she has to maintain her game face for an entire month’s worth of watching other people’s children enjoy the festivities and holiday traditions. It can be rough.

So, please consider giving your loved one He Remembers the Barren this season of Advent, but use some of your James Bond-esque stealth in the giving. Here are some suggested tactics (Q and M approved, of course):

  • Read the book yourself, so that you know what your loved one is going through and can better love her through her grief and suffering.
  • Give the book to your loved one’s parents, siblings, pastor, etc. for the same reasons.
  • Write a note to go with the book (i.e. “This book is not a label or a judgment. It is a great big hug from me to you. I read it, and it helped me know that God remembers me even when I suffer. I thought it might help you, too. I love you.”)
  • Give her the book in private and at a time when she does not need to be around people for awhile. You can mail it to her home, or you can hand it to her wrapped and tell her to wait until she is alone to open it.
  • If you two already have a history of openly discussing her barrenness, then give it to her in person when it is just the two of you. And tell her what she means to you.
  • Once you give it to her, don’t bring it up. Wait for her to talk about it or not talk about it.
  • Don’t be offended if she doesn’t read it for awhile. Depending on what phase of the grief cycle she is currently experiencing, she may want nothing to do with it at first. She might even be embarrassed or offended. Still, won’t it be nice that the book will be there for her when she is ready for it?

Thank you for caring enough for your loved one to do what is hard. She is blessed to have you in her life.

That Girl

Stressed BusinesswomanWe’ve all been that girl before. Thank you, Jen, for sharing your experiences with us, so that we know we are not alone.

Argggg! I was that girl today.

I was chosen as one of five employees at the hospital to start a green belt program, and I’ve been super giddy excited about the process. We five green belts met today with the program manager and an external consultant. We were learning about process mapping, and, as an example, the program manager decided we’d all map the process for getting our kids off to school.

Then, she said it.

“Everyone in here has kids, right? We all know how it goes.”

I wanted to crawl under the table when everyone nodded except for me. To make matters worse, the program manager innocently followed those statements with, “Oh, Jen, I thought you had a family.”

While everyone turned to look at me, I fought back tears. I smiled and replied that my husband is my family. The program manager stated something about how I could relate with taking care of my animals before work. (You know, cause it’s SO similar.) 

We had to discuss the process for getting kids ready for school for a full hour. I am just happy I survived and didn’t burst into tears until I made it to my car. I guess this is helping to give me thicker skin.

I plan to reread your book tonight. Thank you again for writing it. It’s a great comfort in times like this.

Jen, I think I speak for all of us when I say that I am so sorry for what you had to endure today, but I am also thankful for the gracious way you handled it. “Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do.” Amen.

You were chosen to be a green belt because of your many God-given gifts and talents. Don’t be afraid to hold your head up high in the next meeting. You are smart, kind, and gracious, and God IN HIS WISDOM has not yet made you a mother. It is just the way it is. There is nothing wrong with you, even though all of this hurts so much.

So, I will end this post by wishing you the proudest of congratulations, because that is what you deserve to hear. I think that team is pretty blessed to have you.

The Mirage

P1040661It’s hard to receive what you really want.

Truly, it is. The disappointment. The panic that comes upon realizing that gratification doesn’t necessarily equal satisfaction. The shame that floods the nervous system whenever the wanting continues past the receiving. If only I could have something else on top of what I’ve been given or – wretched me! – in place of what I’ve been given.

For example, I can count on my hands the times the chocolate cake actually tasted as good as I anticipated. Usually, within seconds of swallowing the last bite, I can’t even recall how it tasted.

How easily the quilt hanger – the one which I have been obsessing about, the one I have been itching to have my husband hang in our guest bedroom – how easily it fades from my mind once the task of hanging it is complete.

A few years ago, I was certain I needed the Rosetta Stone program to help refresh my waning German vocabulary, but I am embarrassed by how few times I have used it since the purchase. What felt so necessary before I owned it is now unnecessarily pushed aside for this and that. All of the urgency faded the moment the unavailable became available, the second the unreachable came within reach.

I suspect it would be the same with a child. Perhaps my disgusting, covetous heart would move on to some other intangible once I received the gift of an arrow in my quiver. I wonder if all of this agony I feel for that which I do not have is just another gymnastics trick of my senses, a symptom of my nature, an illusion of Satan.

I know a child is not the same as a quilt hanger, but still. The allusive glows and shimmers all the more because I do not and, seemingly, cannot have it.

Equitable Creatures?
Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” Genesis 1:26

I recently took a tour of a new fitness facility that just opened in our area. This place is the bees knees of Exercise-dom, with everything you can think of from a juice bar, spin classroom, group fitness area, basketball court, pool, sauna, and all manner of state of the art equipment.

The draw for me? The child care room.

So when I greeted my tour guide with toddler in tow, that’s immediately what I asked to see. She swiftly guided me to the Kid’s Club Zone, and upon further inspection, my son and I approved.   The tour continued throughout the complex where I Ooo’d and Aaah’d a bit, and basically waited to hear what a pretty penny this place would cost.

Finally, the guide turned sales rep on me and sat me down to go over the membership fees.  As I listened, my son squirmed and managed to wriggle away, but only within arm’s length beside me. Nevertheless, my attention was diverted. The sales rep sensed it and tried to endear herself.

“Not to worry, I’ve got my eye on him, too!”

“Okay, thank you,” I said.

The conversation carried on and was about to conclude when I turned around to see my son straying a little further off.

“Oh, they are quick, aren’t they?” She said. “You’ve just got one, I’ve got three . . .three four-legged children.”

I grinned…out of both politeness and surprise. What else could I do? She just equated her dogs to children. And she also seemed to place value on the numerical amount in relation to my only having one …child.

Now, I don’t begrudge this lady. She was trying to be nice and relatable while doing her job. Only, certain (sarcastically serious) things come to mind upon further reflection of this common worldview:

doug

1. I know! Just give a barren couple a dog! It’s the same, right?

2. Or three…they’ll certainly forget about their suffering …with more dogs.

3. Dogs are people, too. (Um, why do people say that about non-people?)

Anyway, apologies in advance to all you animal lovers out there. I have a dog. I like him fine. And I know that they can seem like children. (Especially the housebreaking and destroying things part.) But you hopefully get what I mean. Pets certainly can and do bring comfort and pleasure, but they are not people. Dominion over animals in Genesis 1:26 defines that they have a different value, both to us and to God.

And it is worth delving into a bit deeper for a minute. As so often articulated here, children are a gift from God. And while animals are certainly gifts for our use, too, Jesus did not die on the cross to save Fido from his sins.  Animals have not been inspired to be reconciled to God like we. Otherwise we’d see caribou, tigers and giraffe baptizing each other on safari. (“On the left we have the King of the Jungle immersing Simba into the family of God…”)  Oh boy, I’ve been watching too much Disney and Pixar.

But essentially that sales rep was viewing my son as such…as equitably as her pets. And that’s wrong.

So, go ahead. Go Dog Whisperer on your canine and put him on the treadmill. Train him to do all sorts of tricks. Snuggle and even pray that God keeps Fluffy healthy and safe. Just please, oh please, do not put animals on the same plane as humanity. Rest assured humans, and only humans have souls which are uniquely created in God’s image as creatures to be in communion with Him. And we are given a unique responsibility to carry out those distinctions in how we treat each of God’s creatures, human and animal separately.

But, heck, what do I know?  Who’d like to be so bold as to try to advise a barren or secondary infertile couple that a pet will be an equitable stand-in or replacement for a child (biological, foster, adoptive or otherwise)? Let me know how that goes!

In the meantime, you’ll find me working out (mommy-sans pet owner-stress) in the gym.

Second Annual Writing Contest

Christmas lightsDear Women, Men, Married, Single, Barren, and Blessed:

We’ve got another writing contest brewing.

Last year, we asked you to reflect on the topic “Advent and Barrenness.” This year, we would like you to submit posts on the topic “My Suffering Is a Blessing.” The winning post, chosen by our panel of hosts, will receive a free copy of He Remembers the Barren as well as a surprise. (That’s right. A surprise.) The top three finalists will also see their posts featured on our website.

Simply compose your post of 600 words or less in an email and send it to katie@katieschuermann.com by December 25th. The winner will be announced on Epiphany (January 6th).

Please be sure to include your name and shipping address in the email.

Sincerely,

Your HRTB Hosts

No “L”

Several years ago I made an after-Christmas sale purchase that had been on my wish list for some time. It was a set of mantel stocking hangers in the form of a word, with a hanger beneath each letter. There were two sets left, one that said “PEACE,” and one that said “NOEL.” We only had three stockings to hang, so I thought “PEACE” was overkill. Since we knew we would try and have/adopt another child, I went with “NOEL” and tucked away the set for the following year. What a pleasant surprise it was to open our Christmas rubbermade containers eleven months later and remember that we finally had a lovely way of displaying our handmade (thank you mother-in-law!) stockings. But after a few days of admiring the display I realized we had a big problem.

The irony was profound. Every time I looked at our fireplace the bold letters shouted at me that there was, in fact, no “L.” The “L” was empty. It was empty the next year, too. And the next. What seemed at first like the perfect decoration turned into a painful reminder of what I thought was missing in our home.

Several years ago I started a Christmas journal in which I annually document important events from the previous year, Christmas wishes for the family, and updates on what was going on in our lives . Here are some excerpts that demonstrate what that “L” stood for in my mind during that time:

2009: I’m trying not to think about how far along I would be now, had the miscarriage not occurred in May. Several friends are due in January. It hurts, but I know God has another plan.

2010: We have a potential adoption coming up in March or April…wondering if it will actually happen… It’s all so exciting–we just pray that we’re able to bring this little boy home as planned. (See “A Change of Heart – Part 1“, “A Change of Hear t- Part 2“, and “A Change of Heart – Part 3” for more on this story.)

2011: No baby yet. Everything that has seemed like a remote possibility has fallen through. Sometimes it seems like it will never happen. I try not to think about it and just keep busy.

My wise husband, who only just recently found out that my fireplace mantel had been haunting me for several years, has pointed out that the pain inflicted by the one-letter-too-long mantel set was self-imposed. Why had I not spent the money earlier when there was more to choose from and just purchase “JOY”? After all, did our family of three not bring us great happiness? Did our cups (and stockings!) not overflow with just one child? Focusing on what I thought was missing was my own choice. Even though we had hopes and plans to adopt, our family may very well have been complete at three. “JOY” may have been the perfect word for us. He’s so right.

As it turned out, the Lord did eventually grant us another child. Last month I received an email from my dear mother-in-law regarding this baby: “Shall I make a stocking for J or did you have something else in mind?” she asked. Another stocking? I had completely forgotten about the “L”! The thought of draping a newly sewn, bright red stocking on the final hanger of the mantel set brought tears to my eyes. Although the court finalization for the adoption won’t occur until January, for me the seal that makes J truly part of this family is the ceremony of hanging that stocking. The word is complete.

It’s true that I should never have bought that set. We were not promised another child. Though we did not deserve him, God in His grace granted our request and gifted us J. The “L” no longer stands for longing, but rather reminds me of another Son, sent to an undeserving people as a gift, to hang his blood red body on a tree. I am reminded that the true meaning of “NOEL” is  “Christmas”. The Child who was promised has come so that I might have “L”ife.

Even though the hangers are full, I pray that in some way–though we have no idea how–God would eventually put us in the position to need “PEACE” in our family at Christmas time, too. Is this evidence of discontent again? Greed even? I don’t think so. Just a realization that the more “L”ove we experience, the more we seem to have to give away. But on the advice of my husband, I’m not buying any more stocking hangers until we really need them.