First, thank you.
Your diligent, prayerful watch over my soul’s travels offers more encouragement than you know.
Your wisdom and discernment, gained through experience and quietly, graciously, resolutely given in conversation shows me what God has shown you and what a blessing older Christian women are to young believers.
Your joy in my joy, my accomplishments, my moments of revelation assures me I have an earthly cheerleader, someone in my corner, another woman with feminine emotions and desires who keenly understands my heart’s experiences.
Know that I appreciate your sympathy — no, empathy — when I tell you I might not be able to have children. I know that you, as a woman, as a human wired with motherly instincts, you feel with deep sincerity the hopelessness I felt when I first heard.
Know that I see the lights in your eyes scramble, most likely praying as I speak for words to say. And that whatever words you do say, I know came from a kind, compassionate, hopeful, yearning heart.
Know that I feel your genuine hug, your comforting hand on my shoulder, your sweet disposition cringing, effortlessly feeling my emotion.
But know that I am a complete woman in Jesus.
I know you know this.
But sometimes, I think, Christian women tend to forget that our first priority as saved-by-grace souls is not to have a family.
It’s not even to get married to a saved-by-grace man.
This infertility, this possibility of childlessness that seems to grow as time goes on due to birth control complications, processed food diets, and the cultural push to refuse marriage and motherhood until your 30s — this epidemic is sneaking up on the Church and the Church doesn’t know how to handle it.
I need to hear that God has a magnificent plan for me with or without children.
Not that an acquaintance was told the same thing by the doctors and well, she has a circus of children now.
I need to hear that my satisfaction is Jesus Christ.
Not that there are alternatives and I could always foster or adopt if I can’t birth a brood of my own.
I need to hear that God is teaching me something in this, that He is showing me contentment in His ultimate plan for my life.
Not that I shouldn’t give up trying to achieve my own desires for a family.
I shouldn’t feel like I need to defend God’s design for my future to anyone, especially a fellow sister in Christ.
I know you want me to experience your joy as a mother. I know you don’t understand why I’m not striving for medical procedures, why I’m trusting what my very careful and thorough doctor diagnosed, why I’m seemingly lying down in the dust and letting it all go.
I know you knew I was trying to have a family. You knew how much I wanted it.
I know how often you prayed I would receive it.
But now things are different. God is working to make me content in His decision. What good is it for me to dwell on whether God will change it up in the future? What harm will it do for me to rest in childlessness? Why do I need to hurry and foster or scurry and adopt? Can I not serve God as a married, childless woman? Can I not rejoice in the little things now, the Saturdays I’m able to sleep in, the Sundays where I only have to dress myself, the trips Mister and I can take without tiny humans interrupting?
Am I not whole in Christ? Was I not made complete in Him the very second He scooped my soul from the licking flames of hell?
Encourage me in what God has called me to do now, instead of stirring discontented hopefulness in things God has not promised to me.
I trust you to do this, because you are a beautiful, wise, kind, comforting, loving, godly, truthful woman of God.
I thank God for you daily.