Wrestling With God, Against God

Sad Teenage GirlI remember hearing a sermon preached years ago that made such an impression on me that I have thought of it many times over the years and wished that I still had a copy of it. I believe it was called, “Wrestling With God, Against God,” with the corresponding lesson being Genesis 32 when Jacob wrestled with God incarnate. The message stayed with me because it was something I had never heard vocalized before, though I had felt it: sometimes in life we find ourselves in situations where God seems to be against us. No matter what we do we just can’t get a break. It’s as if we, like Jacob, were battling with a force who we thought wanted the best for us, but who won’t let us by to get to the destination that we seek. We are angry that we can’t proceed, we’re exhausted by the fight, and we are confused about who this contender really is: our friend or our foe?

My friend Sara, who lost her one-year-old daughter last May, has seemed a pillar of strength through these many years of dealing with serious health issues for two of her children. She has written beautiful posts that encourage and uplift her readers, even through her tragedies. She knows what Scripture has to say about God’s love and compassion. She can repeat it well to her readers. But in her recent post she confesses:

Round moons, and all the tulips in Holland couldn’t change the fact that this life of pain and sorrow was threatening to swallow me.  From where I sat, in the throes of depression, the truths I’d believed, rehearsed, written and proclaimed couldn’t gain traction.

Sara is wrestling with God, against God. Even she, who was and is a model to so many who are experiencing their own trials, has arrived at that point.

Jesus’ own cousin, the one of whom He said, “Among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist,” (Matt. 11:1), sent word through his disciples from his prison cell to find out from Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” (Matt. 11:3). Some commentaries say that John did this only to prove a point to his disciples; he never doubted Jesus’ mission. After all, he’d been at Jesus’ Baptism when the heavens had opened and the Father Himself had spoken. But some pastors I’ve talked to don’t buy this. John was in prison, suffering, and Jesus, his own relative who had proved to have power from on high, was apparently doing nothing. Is it possible that John, great as he was, reached a point where he, too, was wrestling with God, against God?

You can get to that point and still be a Christian. You can shake your fists and yell and feel forsaken and beaten down and still be “with God.” Because He isn’t going anywhere. In our frustration we can beg God to let us by and yet simultaneously we beg Him not to leave us. When your heart doesn’t feel the joy that was meant to accompany all of God’s promises to you in His Word, He doesn’t turn His back on you. When you demand answers for why this is happening to you, He may not give them to you, but He won’t plug His ears either. Rev. Bryan Wolfmueller made an excellent point in his Issues, Etc. radio interview following the shootings in Aurora, CO (paraphrasing): “Jesus doesn’t always give us the answers—but He always gives us Himself.” He gives us Himself sacramentally, when He is literally poured out for us into the chalice from which we drink. He gives us Himself through the absolution spoken by our pastors, “I forgive you all yours sins…” He gives us Himself through our fellow Christians, who reach out to us in love and concern.

Sometimes you just reach the bottom. All your efforts to feel better have failed. The hope is gone. And yet the Hope is not gone. Jesus is at the bottom, too. How you feel about His promises or the plans He may have for your life do not in any way change the validity of those promises, the efficacy of His Words, or His real and ever-present love for you. It’s easy to tell you to take comfort, to have faith, to “hold on.” It’s easy to tell you what to do or what to feel. But when you’re at the bottom, sometimes you can’t do or feel anything. And it’s OK to be honest with God about this.

Lord, I can’t wrestle anymore. I have nothing left. Dear Jesus, please carry me. Please give me the gifts You promise, even if I can’t receive them joyfully yet. Even if I don’t feel comforted. Keep giving me Yourself so that I may not drown in my sorrows in the bottom of this pit, but float to the top on all that You have poured out for me. Stay with me, even when I despair. Amen.

Compelling Distress

“But where there is to be a true prayer, there must be seriousness. People must feel their distress, and such distress presses them and compels them to call and cry out. Then prayer will be made willingly, as it ought to be. People will need no teaching about how to prepare for it and to reach the proper devotion. But the distress that ought to concern most (both for ourselves and everyone), you will find abundantly set forth in the Lord’s Prayer. Therefore, this prayer also serves as a reminder, so that we meditate on it and lay it to heart and do not fail to pray. For we all have enough things that we lack. The great problem is that we do not feel or recognize this. Therefore, God also requires that you weep and ask for such needs and wants, not because He does not know about them [Matthew 6:8], but so that you may kindle your heart to stronger and greater desires and make wide and open your cloak to receive much [Psalm 10:17].” Martin Luther, The Large Catechism, III: 26-27.*

* Concordia: The Lutheran Confessions (ed. Paul Timothy McCain; St. Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House, 2005), 411.

The Great Getaway – IT’S A GO!

It’s official. The Great Getaway has been slotted for the last weekend in July.

Young Woman Sitting and Holding a Cup of Coffee

(contented sigh)

Who:  Any woman who suffers from barrenness, secondary infertility, or is grieving a recent miscarriage *

What: The Great Getaway retreat agenda

When: Friday, July 26th through Sunday, July 28th

Where: St. Louis, MO

Why: To getaway for a bit and relax in the company of your sisters in Christ

Interested in attending? Register online today and hightail it to St. Louis by 6:00 p.m. on Friday, July 26th. We’ll take care of the rest.

If you would like to attend the retreat but have trouble meeting the financial requirements, we HRTB hosts have penned a letter that can be sent to your family and/or friends asking for their sponsorship of your retreat attendance. Please do not hesitate to contact us if you need any help.

* Space is limited for this retreat. Women who have already contacted us expressing an interest in “The Great Getaway” get first dibs. After that, it is first come, first serve.

Aftermath

You told me one night.

Though Easter had come and gone, I saw the fast of Lent alive in your eyes. Yes, even now you keep a pious vigil, twenty years of Tenebrae, still afraid of the strepitus.

You all but cover your ears.

“I had a miscarriage in between the boys. They told me the baby was dead, so I went in for a D&C.”

It happened a generation ago, but you still can’t look at me. You shake your head.

“I couldn’t sleep for weeks. I was afraid. What if I had- ”

You stop. You are a grandma, a happy grandma, but your second child’s Good Friday still haunts you. It is not finished for you. Not yet.

“I went to the hospital and made them show me the records.”

I suck in my breath. This is not grief over death as I had thought. This is something different. This is fear. Over murder.

“I had to know that the baby was really dead before, you know…”

I did know, though I had never considered it. Of course. It is the same procedure, the same legal procedure whether dead or alive.

“The records said she was dead before the D&C.”

I feel relief. Then sudden guilt. Then relief again. She miscarried not murdered.

Wait.

I catch myself in the considering, and my anger is immediate. Burning hot.

This is the sick world in which we live: A mother cannot merely grieve the death of her miscarried child. She cannot simply undergo a procedure and trust that it is reserved for mothers who want their babies but have lost them. She now has to question, has to fear the hostile world that willingly, profitably D&Cs babies to death, and wonder whether or not her procedure of healing medicine was really healing or not.

This is a cruel cruelty.

Cherry Blossoms

Godspeed, Kristi!

Let us pray…

“Gracious and merciful God…Bless Kristi’s going out and her coming in. In Your name she begins her journey to her daughter; let Kristi accomplish it with You as her constant companion. Let the host of angels surround and guard her like Jacob. Let Your angel stand by her in every danger as he stood by St. Paul. Let the company of Your angels travel with her going and coming, as with Joseph and Mary when they fled to Egypt with the young child Jesus, that she may remain safe from all misfortune, from thieves, murderers, and any other injury. O keeper of Israel, You never slumber or sleep; be a wall of fire around Kristi and her family by day and by night, as You were to Elisha, that no misfortune or disaster come near them. Accompany them all along their path with Your angels’ watch, as You guided the children of Israel through the desert with a pillar of cloud and of fire. Be their companion when they are traveling. Stay with them when they rest. Watch for them while they are sleeping. Yes, Lord, take care of them wherever they go and let them be commended to Your holy protection. Amen”*

* Revised from Starck’s Prayer Book, 362-3.

A “Yes” Answer

YES!Long ago in catechism class, I learned that God answers prayers. He does so in several ways; He can answer YES, NO, and WAIT. As a kid, any time my parents told me to WAIT, I was disappointed. As an adult, I still don’t like to hear the word WAIT. It took my struggles and suffering as an adult to finally understand that God may say WAIT because that is what is best for me.

The Lord has been working on my hard, sin-filled heart continuously since my Baptism. I sin when I reject His Words and His gifts, but I also repent of those sins. It’s such a paradox of the human mind and spirit. I pray to the Lord and ask Him for the desires of my heart. His answers are still YES, NO, and WAIT.

With joy I receive all of His gifts, even if they don’t come when I want them. Today, though, I am preparing to receive a gift for which I have long prayed: a child. The Lord has told me to WAIT for several years, and I have struggled to accept that answer. The Lord has used this time to strengthen and uphold me, to encourage me, to mold me into His child. I have fought Him time and again; I have rejected His gifts. I have rejected the people He has placed around me to share God’s Word with me. I have learned that I don’t have to suffer alone. God has given me so many good gifts, and I am still learning to receive them with thanksgiving.

Now God tells me, “YES – I am blessing you with a child, who will come to you through the gift of adoption.” Why? Did I finally meet His expectations for perfection? No; I still sin daily. Did I finally pray hard enough? No, I haven’t been faithful in prayer. Have I finally suffered enough? My suffering is nothing compared to the suffering of God’s Son Jesus. This child is a gift… from God! I don’t deserve a child; I’m not entitled to such a blessing. Yet He gives this child to our family purely by His grace. There is no merit or worthiness in me. None.

God, in His mercy, has said YES! And when God says YES, I will receive this child with joy!

Unscripted

Life is unpredictable. (Isn’t that the understatement of the year?) Despite all of my organization, I’ll never be prepared for everything. If I could plan for every possible snag along the way, then I’d think pretty highly of myself.

However, I’ve experienced enough to know that there are plenty of unscripted moments. I couldn’t predict the trials that I have faced, and they have driven me to my knees in prayer. I have been reminded time and again to trust in the Triune God and His unfailing promises. God tells me that He will never leave me nor forsake me (Hebrews 13:5c). My times are in His hands (Psalm 31). He will never give me more than I can bear (1 Corinthians 10:13).

And so I offer a simple prayer: Thank you, God, for taking care of me. Amen.

Let Us Care for You!

A Middle Eastern woman with her daughter-in-lawI know one of the reasons you won’t confide in people about your barrenness. There are those who insist on fixing you. You know, the people who slip you a piece of paper with the name of a health book they think will cure your barrenness, or the people who tell you to relax or – my personal favorite – start the adoption process in order to get pregnant.

But not everyone wants to fix you. Some people just want to care for you. Leah Houghton, a mother and part-time social worker, is one of those people, and she has something she wants to say to you:

The journey to parenthood has certainly been very trying for my family. Just of few of these trials include a partial-miscarriage of my first pregnancy where I miscarried one of the twins with which I was pregnant. During a standard sonogram, our second child was diagnosed with a cleft lip and palate. We were told by doctors that he would be blind, deaf, and mentally delayed. We were also told he would have heart and lung problems and would be “grossly disfigured.” We would have to wait until his delivery to discover that none of these things were true about our son. Yet, we still faced (and are still facing) numerous surgeries, doctor’s visits, clinic appointments, speech therapy evaluations, etc.   

Just a little over a year after our son’s diagnosis, we experienced the miscarriage of our third pregnancy. I have also experienced moderate postpartum depression after the birth of my second child. Then, after I stopped nursing my daughter, I began experiencing severe anxiety and panic attacks (related to hormonal changes) that nearly incapacitated me for months. However, throughout all of these trials, the Lord has provided our daily bread and given us such grace and comfort. All these gifts truly surpass our understanding.

Sisters, I know from the outside that the woman who has a handful of young and energetic children may seem like the last person on earth to be able to provide you with any comfort when you are struggling with barrenness, and it is true that I cannot imagine the grief that an empty womb and an empty home must be. Yet, I encourage you to please tell your sisters in Christ your struggles. Let us care for you. Let us be a quiet ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, and a comforting hand to hold. No, I don’t know what it is like to walk by empty nurseries that have been prayed over night after night with hopes that God would choose to fill that nursery in some way. No, I don’t know what it is like to have empty arms that so long to hold a child near. But, I do know what it is like to carry a child when you don’t know if you will ever get to bring that child home from the hospital; I know what it is like to grieve the loss of a child that you will never see on this earth; and I also know the strength and peace that can come from waiting on the Lord. And, sisters, I want to encourage you and carry that burden with you in prayer and love.

Please let us care for you!  Let us pray with and for each other and bear with one another in love!

Leah Houghton

Train Up a Child

photo[84]I have childhood memories of helping my parents set up chairs for the annual life rally at a local school. That was back in the day when public schools still encouraged nonprofit organizations to use their facilities to educate youth on such topics as (Gasp!) respecting each others’ bodies and valuing life at all stages.

I was only in third or fourth grade at the time, but my parents encouraged me to tag along for this day-long event of speakers, food, and fellowship for teenagers. My parents were members of our local Lutherans For Life chapter which supported the event, and together we set up the display of fetal models for viewing, hung signs to direct students to various rooms for breakaway sessions, and decorated the cafeteria with helium balloons. At the time, I was more interested in the balloons than the speakers, but over the years I was exposed to such life issues as human sexuality, caregiving, unplanned pregnancies, abortion, and adoption.

An accident? I think it was intentional parenting. Not only were my dad and mom modeling for me the act of service to my community, but they were also exposing me to the likes of Molly Kelly and Jim Lamb. Formative influences, for sure.

My parents did not stop there. In junior high, they brought me to life chains, conferences, prayer vigils, and pro-life fundraisers such as banquets and community breakfasts. In high school, my mom took me to two national life marches in D.C., and she encouraged me to start a local Teens For Life group at my school. Over the years, my parents showed me how to give of my time, talents, and resources to support local crisis pregnancy centers and other pro-life organizations. They taught me early on my responsibility to my littlest neighbors and showed me ways to advocate for their right to life.

No doubt, my parents’ example lit a fire under me in my childhood that continues to burn into my adult years.P1050860

How can we expect our youth today to defend the right to life if we do not teach them what that means? How can we expect them to advocate for the least in the world if we do not show them how?

My parents did that for me. God help us to do that for the next generation.