Suffering

Shadowlands

I love the movie Shadowlands (1993), especially the line author C.S. Lewis says in response to his clergy-friend-named-Harry’s canned explanation of the unexpected good news of Lewis’s wife’s cancer being in remission.

Harry: I know how hard you’ve been praying. Now, God is answering your prayers.

Lewis: That’s not why I pray, Harry. I pray because I can’t help myself; I pray because I’m helpless; I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God, it changes me.

Touché, Mr. Lewis.

“WWJD: What Would Joseph Do?” Contest Winner

Merry Christmas, Gentiles!

On this blessed day of Epiphany, we are delighted to present to you the winner of our Third Annual Writing Contest. This year, we asked you to reflect on the topic, “WWJD: What Would Joseph Do?” and, as always, it was a privilege to be on the receiving end of your contemplations. Thank you to everyone who participated!

We’d like to share our four favorite posts with you this week, starting today with a post written by our contest winner, Megan Davis. Congratulations, Megan, on winning a free copy of He Remembers the Barren, and thank you for allowing us to share with our readers what we think is one of the most brilliant metaphors we’ve read in a long time.

Grateful,

Your HRTB Hosts

“What Would Joseph Do?”

Joseph would be a righteous and just man with a long and noble linage in the LCMS. He would eventually be convinced by his pastor to pack up his family and head to the seminary. He would study hard and prove to be a man of wisdom, conviction and great love. He would eagerly head to his vicarage assignment.

It would be nothing like he imagined. The first service and his installation would be beautiful, but then there would be a voters meeting. The head elder would get in a fist fight with the usher over the color of the new carpet. The organist would whisper to him that the pastor was a drunkard. His children would be called hooligans and his wife’s hem line criticized. In the coarse of two hours he would hear every commandment shattered. He would come home that first Sunday and drop his head into his hands and weep over the sinfulness of the church. She was like his bride to be and she acted like this. Despite his deep love for her, all he would see inside her was the fruit of evil. He would resolve to finish out his duties as vicar then quietly leave the seminary and take his family home. He could not marry a whore like this.

But as he went through his year, God would soften his heart. Through the readings and the liturgy Joseph would be reminded that, despite her sinfulness, God was living inside His Church. Through prayer Joseph would be granted eyes that could see the innocence of Christ overshadowing her sinful nature. And much to Joseph’s surprise, God would reveal Himself living in her midst and bearing fruit through her.

So when the time came he would go back to the seminary with a glowing review from his supervisor. He would finish his classes and receive a Call from God to care for and love His Church. At the ordination, Joseph and His Church would be joined not unlike in marriage. The first year would be as awkward as a long journey on the back of a donkey nine months pregnant. The fruits of the Spirit would be born at the most inopportune times, in the most uncomfortable places and witnessed by the least likely of people. Nothing would ever go the way he would plan. From his little pulpit in an out-of-the-way church, he would have to guide his bride through a foreign, pagan world. Together they would long for the peace of the promised land. And when he would wonder what he was doing, and if he could continue, he would get to hold the very body of Christ in his hands.

Megan Davis

Advent Admonition

My barren sisters:

Tonight is the night you watch other people’s children participate in Christmas pageants. It’s time for you to build relationships with those children. You said “amen” at their baptisms, so they are yours to support and guard and protect in the Faith. Start talking to them. Teach their Sunday school class. Lead them in music. Have them over to your house for dinner. Show them videos of your pet bunny. Go to their ballgames and concerts. Share whatever specific gifts you have been given, for, in sharing yourself with them, you will begin to love them and they most likely will begin to love you. That’s how you can get through tonight’s Christmas pageant. Love the children that are there even as your heart pines for the ones that aren’t.

Tonight is the night you sing of another woman’s pregnancy and another woman’s infant. Sing out loud and strong with confidence, for these songs are your own. The Child born of Mary is your child, the very One for whom you yearn. You may never have been pregnant – or the children of your pregnancies may be no more in your womb and no more in your arms – but Jesus is born for you. He is your Child, come to save you from your sin that you and your children might live forever in Him. His is the birth by which you will be “saved through childbearing” (1 Timothy 2:15).

Tonight is the night you go home to a childless house, and here, my sisters – in the silent, holy night – is your cross. Here is where the birth of Jesus matters most, in the horrible war against principalities and powers. Here is where you weep and gnash your teeth for the death that curses this blasted world. Here is where you repent and turn to Him who died for sinners.

So, cry out to the Child Jesus who died but lives again and remember in faith: in Him, you will live again, too.

17 And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last:
18 I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death (Revelation 1).

Christmas is merry in Jesus.

Love,

Katie

PCOS P.S.

Gina is someone I look up to in so many ways, not only because she is an extraordinary woman who bakes decadent, gluten-free desserts, but because she doesn’t hide from the crosses God has given her – and she encourages me to do the same:

PCOS is so hard to live with and deal with, not only because of the infertility but because all of it is the pits. At this point in my life, I can look back and see that my PCOS was/is a cross to bear that at times I threw on the ground and despised, but, as with all crosses, it continues to be bearable only through Christ and the love of Christian friends, my spouse, and family. From this perspective, I can tell you that I am in part shaped by the suffering of PCOS and, as with all suffering, God can use it for the good of both the sufferer and those around her; but I can only see that now that I am 47 and reconciled to my barrenness, and I still only glimpse this here and there.

A friend of mine and I were talking about the wounds and scars of life and we finally decided that we can’t hide them and we can’t repair them. We can only let them leak God’s mercy to others, that same mercy He showed us.

When God Hides Himself from Us

Truly, you are a God who hides yourself, O God of Israel, the Savior. Isaiah 45:15

“We’re called to leave the hidden things hidden. We should not try to figure them out. There might not be a satisfying answer in God’s Word to every question that is raised by hardship and cross-bearing. Jesus directs us to turn our eyes away from what we cannot fathom to the blessings that are ours by faith in the Gospel, even in the midst of tantalizing why-questions. Our many unanswered questions concerning God in this world might go unanswered–but God in Jesus Christ is there in the Gospel.” (Holger Sonntag, “Our Cross with God” [CPH], 38)

Advice from a Criminal

Have you ever noticed that the criminal hanging on the cross next to Jesus doesn’t ask the Savior of the world to save him from the torture of the cross? He doesn’t ask Jesus to reduce his suffering. He doesn’t beg the Lord to relieve his own pain or to rescue him from the death that is before him.

He simply asks Jesus to remember him when He comes into His kingdom.

“We are receiving the due reward of our deeds,” the criminal says to the other crucified criminal who mocks Jesus, “but this man has done nothing wrong.” Then, he turns to Jesus in faith and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” (Luke 23:27-43)

Pastor Schuermann explains it this way in a recent sermon:

As the thief on the next cross – himself seemingly hopeless – turns to Christ, hope makes a request: “Remember me. Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” There is hope.

This is how hope speaks. He asks for nothing but to be remembered by Jesus. He doesn’t ask to be saved from the cross, to be spared his suffering, to be granted a last-minute pardon, as the other [criminal] did. When death is unavoidable, hope embraces death and prays, “Jesus, remember me.” He who dies with these words on his lips, dies well.

We, the barren, have the same hope. We can embrace the cross of suffering and pray along with the criminal, “Jesus, remember me.”

And the good news is that He does.

And Jesus said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Faith ‘n’ Family

Thank you to KFUO and Andy Bates for talking with me on the “Faith ‘n’ Family” program about barrenness as it relates to the Second Commandment.

You can listen to the program here.

Something That Is Better

Bo Giertz writes that when it comes to prayer, Jesus said “we should be persistent and not give up. We should compare ourselves with the man who, in the middle of the night needed to borrow some bread, and knocked on his neighbor’s door. God isn’t like the neighbor. He doesn’t mind being inconvenienced, but it’s a part of His fatherly way of rearing and teaching His children that He allows us to wait. Maybe He does it just so we learn to pray by being forced to think about what we pray for and being compelled to repeat what we have said in an effort to examine the contents. We have to be sure that what we pray for really comes from the heart. Then, we have God’s promise that He opens the door for us and that He hears us. We might not get just what we prayed for, but it will always be a good gift and just what we need most. Jesus doesn’t say that God gives us what we hoped for, but that He gives the Holy Spirit to those who pray to Him. He gives us the Holy Spirit when we pray persistently and faithfully and come to God with all our needs. The Spirit influences us and transforms us. Sometimes we stop praying about something because we understand that it wasn’t God’s will. Sometimes we discover that we’ve already received something that is better. Sometimes, as we pray, we see a completely different way of looking at what worried us. Or maybe God helps us in some other way–but He always helps us.” (To Live with Christ, 347-8)

More Advent Waiting

Advent is a season in the church year that is easily dismissed. It’s a time of waiting. We, in the church, also use these days before Christmas to prepare our hearts for the arrival of the Christ-child. Our sinful hearts, minds, and bodies need to be turned from our sinfulness and turned to God for His grace and mercy.

I don’t know why children haven’t been borne to me. After years of marriage, I’m ready to bear a child. I’ve prepared myself mentally and physically. Still no baby. In my self-pity I gripe to God for not giving me what I want, specifically the gift of a baby. After years of waiting and no specific diagnosis, that gift may never come come from my womb. What a hard, sad truth to accept.

And so I continue to wait. The Church reminds me to repent and turn from my sinfulness. My ways are not God’s ways. The Church reminds me that I wait for Jesus. So – does that mean that Christ’s arrival will make my body fruitful? No. The fruit of Mary’s womb is Jesus, and He makes me whole. I’ll not be whole in the physical sense here on earth. Rather, Jesus makes me whole through His death and resurrection. My body will always be sinful, thus, my body will not be perfect. However, God uses His means of grace to unite me with Jesus. He alone is perfect.

Being barren, I may never be finished waiting for a child. That longing may never go away. However, I no longer have to wait for Jesus to come. He came 2000 years ago and redeemed me. I wait, instead, for His triumphant return to take me to Himself in heaven.

How and When to Give

Question Submitted: I can’t praise your book highly enough, but I’m not always sure about how/when to give it to people. Sometimes, people are not in a place where they’re ready to talk about barrenness, or they may feel that others giving them resources is intrusive. It’s such a sensitive topic. Do you have any suggestions for how/when to give a copy of He Remembers the Barren to others?

I know what you mean. 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 Bed, Bath, and Beyond? Or who wants to pull a book with this cover out of a stocking in front of family and friends? Let’s all say it together: awkward.

Yet, I still think He Remembers the Barren is a good gift worthy of giving, because it reminds all of us that God’s love and favor is not dependent on our becoming mothers but, instead, on Jesus becoming our sin on the cross so that He might give us His blessed righteousness. In Christ, we are freed from the burden of sin and the curse of death that comes with our wretched barrenness; in Christ, we are made worthy of God’s love and favor; in Christ, we have true hope whether we are mothers or not.

So, please consider giving your loved one a copy of He Remembers the Barren, 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.
Make sure your church library has a copy of the book on hand as well as your local public library.
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.
Give her the book without any expectations on your own part, and saturate the giving in prayer.
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?

I have had people turn shades of green at the mere mention of my book. The thought of reading something about the very thing they loathe makes them sick to their stomachs, because their present grief is too poignant. Such is the way of suffering, so I don’t force the book on them. Still, I try to give it to them, because I think the book really does offer comfort and empathy and relief amidst the pain of suffering.

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