With Friends Like That….

I’ve been re-reading Job recently, and I’ve been struck by the many ways Job’s friends acted morally and spiritually superior – even though they were wrong.  They were wrong about what was happening.  They were wrong about why.  They were wrong about God’s silence, and they were wrong about Job’s response to it.  They were wrong about almost everything.  But, that didn’t stop them.  And because they knew enough to sound credible, they caused Job tremendous grief.

Does that sound familiar?

Does anyone you know ask questions or offer insights that make you feel your struggle is somehow your fault?  That God is withholding your heart’s desire, or punishing you for some reason?  That His silence means He is ignoring your pleas?  That you deserve the life you have – but not the one you want?  That you should just give up and accept your fate?

Take another look at Job.  You’ll get a new perspective on friends like that….

Job’s three friends came to comfort Job not long after his ten children and 11,000 livestock died (all in one day).  Just before they arrived, Job broke out in painful sores from head to toe.  When the friends saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him.  “They began to weep… and sat with him for seven days and seven nights.  No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.”

Many counselors call that the ministry of presence.  The friends didn’t offer answers or explanations, only compassionate concern expressed through silence.

But then, Job voiced his feelings about his sudden suffering and they couldn’t resist the temptation to respond.  They could not hold their tongues.  Instead, they indulged themselves in judgment of the friend they’d come to comfort.  They chose to “help” him by closing their ears and opening their mouths.

After withstanding as much as he could bear, Job responded: “How long will you torment me and crush me with words?  I also could speak like you, if you were in my place.  But my mouth would encourage you; comfort from my lips would bring you relief.”  Does he sound comforted?  Enlightened?  Not at all.  He’s angry, hurt, and resentful.  These are not true friends — their words only compound his grief and make him doubt God’s faithfulness — and he lets them know it.

And then, Job says, “My intercessor is my friend, as my eyes pour out tears to God….”  In other words, compassionate action speaks louder than words.  Anyone who lifts me up in prayer when I am grieving or struggling is my true friend.  If you want to do more than sit with me in silence, then actively intercede for me with the only One who can truly help me.  That would bring me comfort.

Job’s words equip us to discern who will be the true friends along this journey.  They are the listeners.  The compassionate comforters who do not pretend to know the mind of God.  The untiring intercessors who are driven by our tears to petition the only One with the power to change everything.

Do you have a friend like that?  One who will stand by you throughout this journey?  One who will pray for you when you are too exhausted to pray for yourself?  If you are fortunate enough to have a true friend — or more than one — tell them what a blessing they are to you.

If you don’t have a single friend like that, don’t despair.  You are not in this alone.  Read the lyrics of this hymn (written in 1855) and know that you do have a friend who stands with you:

What a friend we have in Jesus. All our sins and griefs to bear!  What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer! Oh, what peace we often forfeit. Oh, what needless pain we bear. All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer! Can we find a friend so faithful,who will all our sorrows share? Jesus knows our every weakness; take it to the Lord in prayer. Blessed Savior, Thou hast promised Thou wilt all our burdens bear. May we ever, Lord, be bringing all to Thee in earnest prayer.”

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Find more cause for hope at PregnantWithHope.com, and read Pregnant With Hope: Good News for Infertile Couples.

Secondary Infertility: One Man’s Story

I know a man who experienced secondary infertility years ago.  He and his wife decided that one child was not a whole family, and that – for them – natural conception was the only acceptable road to parenthood.  They tried and prayed, and tried and prayed.  But it never happened.  They remained a family of three.

Years later, they still mourn the fact that their prayers for a second child went unanswered.

This man feels compelled to share his story of unfulfilled longing with couple after couple.  My sense is that he means to offer comfort and commiseration from the vantage point of one who has shared in similar suffering and uncertainty.

When I’ve heard him speak, he’s included sobering statistics about infertility and stories about the stress it brings into relationships.  He’s clearly knowledgeable and very experienced.

So, why am I not a big supporter?

Because I think he has the potential to do as much harm as good.  Not just because I’ve seen people reduced to puddles of tears by the undercurrent of resignation in his words, but because his messages never seem to reflect the light and life of the Holy Spirit.  They don’t reveal deep trust in God’s plan, His goodness and His purposefulness.  And they are not infused with Christ-centered hope.

But that’s what infertile couples need – someone to remind them that the truths of scripture are not for someone else, or for some other time or situation.  They are for us.  Now.

This man’s experience has taught him to focus on managing the downside – tackling the negative emotions and stressful issues inherent in the journey, and getting people prepared to deal with a life that may well be defined by their failure.

Is that practical?  In some ways.  Is it helpful?  I’m not so sure.

Here’s the problem I see… consciously or not, he sends the signal, ‘Your worst fears could be realized; your dream might never come to pass.; God might fail to deliver.’  That’s what he took away from his infertility journey.  But, God never fails us!  He longs to see His perfect will for us fulfilled in our lives.

Then why didn’t God give this man a second child?

I’m convinced that when he and his wife set strict limits on how God could expand their family, they closed doors He may have intended to open:  egg or sperm donation, IUI,  IVF, surrogacy, adoption, foster parenting….  who knows?  It could have been some combination of those, or all of them.

Was it wrong to set those limits?  No, it was their choice to make.  But,  the absence of a second child doesn’t mean God said ‘no’ to them.  They may have been the ones who said ‘no’ to God — by closing every door but one.

God’s permissive will gives us the freedom to close any doors, set any limits, and refuse any alternatives to our own will for ourselves.  But, with that privilege comes the risk that our choices will move us away from His best, instead of toward it.

Is that what happened with this man and his wife?  Only God knows for sure.  But here’s what I know… when we act out of obedience and trust, it honors God.  And scripture says He responds to our faith by drawing near to us and delighting Himself in blessing us.  That kind of interaction with God transforms people in ways that strengthen their faith, fill them with confident hope, and reinvigorate their belief in His faithfulness.

That’s not what I see in this man.  Instead, I see someone who’s made it his business to show infertile couples the long, dark path that he and his wife walked many years ago.  Don’t get me wrong; I think there is a real kindness in his desire to give guidance and comfort.  But God calls us to so much more than a long walk down a dark path.

He calls us into the light.  He calls us to believe that He can do anything.  And He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are willing to put down our lists of terms and conditions, hold out our open hands, and say:

“Lord, I welcome whatever you choose to give, in whatever form you choose to give it.  I know that your will for me is always your very best.  Please help me wait for it patiently, confident in your goodness, and in complete peace.”

 

Here’s What Infertile Couples Want & Need

This is a rerun of my all-time most read and recirculated post.  Share it with someone who has no idea how to help you….

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What can you say to the people around you who want to love you through the struggle with infertility, but have no idea what to do or how to help?  Kathleen Parker, an Opinion columnist for the Washington Post, offered guidance in an editorial about gifts….

“Here is giving:  Listening.  Sparing time.  Not interrupting.  Holding that thought.  Leaving the last drop.  Staying home.  Turning it off, whatever it is.  Making eye contact.  Picking it up.  Take the room’s temperature.  Paying attention.  Waiting.”

That’s how you help an infertile couple.  That’s how you love us through this incredibly challenging, frustrating, stressful, heartbreaking journey.  That’s how you stop trying to fix it, and instead, bless us by being fully present in the moment with us.

By listening, not interrupting, holding that thought, and paying attention –  Sometimes, we need to voice confusion or wrestle aloud with our uncertainty.  Don’t give us “the answer.”  That’s patronizing.  If it were simple, we would have figured it out already.  Instead, keep quiet and give us a chance to blow off steam, rant without fearing a reaction, or cry without worrying you can’t take the drama.  Don’t.  Say.  A word.  You’ll be amazed how your attentive silence speaks volumes.

By sparing time, turning it off (whatever it is), taking the room’s temperature, and making eye contact – So much about the struggle with infertility is humbling and demeaning.  Don’t make us beg for your time or attention.  Don’t make us feel something else is more important.  Be attuned to our moods, and when the room’s temperature is too “hot” or “cold,” be sensitive to what that tells you about what we need:  time alone, or a hug?  Eye contact that invites a confidence, or a glance that says, ‘I know you’re hurting’?  Be.  Fully.  Present.  You’ll be amazed how your attentive heart radiates loving support.

By leaving the last drop, staying home, picking it up, and… waiting –  Infertility makes us feel incredibly vulnerable, wounded and fragile.  Your thoughtfulness can be an amazing antidote.  It lifts our spirits without making us feel guilty or indebted.  Don’t make us ask for kindness; we won’t.  Just know that the littlest kindness is magnified a thousand times by our need to feel that someone cares.  It doesn’t take much, and no words are required.  In fact, it’s better if you let your actions speak.  Not sure what to do?  Wait.  Pay attention.  You’ll see an opportunity.  And you’ll be amazed how your attentive action tells us you understand.

Parker concludes, “Do unto others…. The alternative is surely hell.”

That sums it up pretty succinctly.  There are moments along the infertility journey that are hellish.  When there’s no heartbeat on the ultrasound.  When the doctor’s office isn’t calling and the bleeding won’t stop.  When the baby comes too soon and can’t possibly survive.  When it’s time to tell everyone who thought there was a baby, “We lost it.”  When the dream seems to be dying, and hope is barely alive.

In that moment, do unto us as you would want us to do for you.  Would you want privacy?  Give us some.  Would you want kindness?  Extend it.  Would you need a shoulder to cry on?  Offer one.  Would you be angry at the world?  Understand our intense emotions.  Would you need wisdom?  Know that we will seek it when we are ready to internalize it.  Don’t try to force it on us if we don’t ask for it.  You won’t get the response you want.

“Here is giving….”  Parker began.  So, we’ve made it clear.  This is how you help us.  Now that we’ve told you what we need, please give us the gift of love in ways we will gratefully receive.

How Can You Choose?

“Infertility shows you the limits of your faith in a way that is inescapable. You discover that letting go completely feels impossible because you don’t trust God—not enough to give Him control. At the same time, infertility reveals the limits of your own power. You can’t force the outcome you want on your timetable, no matter how much you spend or how hard you try.”

Does anything about that description sound familiar?  Do you recognize yourself and your situation in it? Wanting to force a heartbeat into the womb, but unable to… wanting to trust God and let go, but unwilling to… struggling mightily to find some way forward?

Does reading that passage and thinking about these questions make you feel anxious?  Paralyzed?  Unsure how to proceed?  If so, don’t worry.  You’re in good company.

I frequently receive emails from people who’ve started reading Pregnant with Hope and been floored by the accuracy of the description of this point in the journey.  It’s the fork in the road that leaves every infertile couple facing two (seemingly) impossible choices:  1) maintain control while hoping for the best but bracing for the worst, or 2) relinquish control to God with no guarantee of success.

How can you choose?

One option is step outside your experience and talk with someone who’s made the journey.  Find out what choice they made.  Then ask:  How did it impact your stress level?  Your relationship?  Your journey’s outcome?  What did you learn that you could share with me?  Specifically, what about your story might predict the trajectory of mine?

It can be hard to find people who’ll discuss their experience candidly.  There are plenty of strangers willing to chat anonymously on the internet, but wouldn’t you rather hear from people who’ll use their real names and tell you their whole story?  Because the context of a decision matters.  And so does assessing whether people who share their stories are like you — in terms of background, education, values, income, faith life… whatever matters to you.  Hearing about the tradeoffs they made and how they felt afterwards helps, too.

Wouldn’t you want to know all that?

Ten couples agreed to do that as part of Pregnant with Hope.  Each of them told their entire infertility story – from initial worry to discouraging diagnosis, from multiple treatments and failed attempts to heartache and despair… and finally, to joy.  You can learn a lot by hearing their stories in their own words.  I urge you to read them, if you haven’t already.

Here’s what all ten couples – and many whom I’ve interviewed since – consistently say:

1)      Make the right choice and you can increase your peace, decrease your stress, and set off on the path toward parenthood and a deeper, richer spiritual life.  That’s what God wants for you, and for the child He intends to entrust to you.

2)      Make the wrong choice and the pressure on you and your relationship will continue to mount.  The stress of seeing people around you succeed where you continue to fail will become an unbearable reminder that you are not in control — which can lead to mounting anger, deepening depression, or both.

3)      At some point, you’ll have to make a choice  — otherwise, you will risk forfeiting not only your dream of a family, but the health of your relationship with your partner and the quality of your faith life.

So, here’s what I recommend:  Let go.  Give up.  Surrender.  Why offer such hopeless-sounding advice?  Because it’s actually the path to joy.  And to peace.

By acknowledging our own limitations, we admit what’s already obvious:  we can’t control what’s happening.  We don’t have the power to make anything we’re trying succeed – whether it’s an embryo implanting, or a birth mother choosing our portfolio.  We want to script it because we believe we know what’s best.  We want to manage it because we’re sure we’ll get it right.

But, we don’t always know what’s best.  And we might not get it right.  We might be able to force what looks like success, but there are plenty of examples of “success” like that backfiring.  If we want nothing less than the best possible outcome, we have to give it to the only One with the desire and the power to make that happen.

Are you ready to let go and give God control?

Secondary Infertility: Mourning vs. Hope

I know a couples counselor who experienced secondary infertility years ago.  He and his wife decided that one child was not a whole family, and that – for them – natural conception was the only acceptable road to parenthood.  They tried and prayed, and tried and prayed.  But it never happened.  They remained a family of three.

Years later, they still mourn the fact that their prayers for a second child went unanswered.

This therapist shares his story of unfulfilled longing with couple after couple – through his practice, through talks at churches and to groups like the one I led for several years.  My sense is that he means to offer comfort and commiseration from the vantage point of one who has shared in similar suffering and uncertainty.

When I’ve heard him speak, he’s included sobering statistics about infertility and stories about the stress it brings into relationships.  He’s clearly knowledgeable and very experienced.

So, why am I not a big fan?

Because I think he has the potential to do as much harm as good.  Not just because I’ve seen people reduced to puddles of tears by the undercurrent of resignation in his words, but because his messages never seem to reflect the light and life of the Holy Spirit.  They don’t reveal deep trust in God’s plan, His goodness and His purposefulness.  And they are not infused with Christ-centered hope.

But that’s what infertile couples need – someone to remind them that the truths of scripture are not for someone else, or for some other time or situation.  They are for us.  Now.

This counselor’s experience has taught him to focus on managing the downside – tackling the negative emotions and stressful issues inherent in the journey, and getting people prepared to deal with a life that may well be defined by their failure.

Is that practical?  In some ways.  Is it helpful?  I’m not so sure.

Here’s the problem I see… consciously or not, he sends the signal, ‘Your worst fears could be realized; your dream might never come to pass.; God might fail to deliver.’  That’s what he took away from his infertility journey.  But, God never fails us!  He longs to see His perfect will for us fulfilled in our lives.

Then why didn’t God give this man a second child?

I’m convinced that when he and his wife set strict limits on how God could expand their family, they closed doors He may have intended to open:  egg or sperm donation, IUI,  IVF, surrogacy, adoption, foster parenting….  who knows?  It could have been some combination of those, or all of them.

Was it wrong to set those limits?  No, it was their choice to make.  But,  the absence of a second child doesn’t mean God said ‘no’ to them.  They may have been the ones who said ‘no’ to God — by closing every door but one.

God’s permissive will gives us the freedom to close any doors, set any limits, and refuse any alternatives to our own will for ourselves.  But, with that privilege comes the risk that our choices will move us away from His best, instead of toward it.

Is that what happened with the therapist and his wife?  Only God knows for sure.  But here’s what I know… when we act out of obedience and trust, it honors God.  And scripture says He responds to our faith by drawing near to us and delighting Himself in blessing us.  That kind of interaction with God transforms people in ways that strengthen their faith, fill them with confident hope, and reinvigorate their belief in His faithfulness.

That’s not what I see in this man.  Instead, I see someone who’s made it his life’s work to walk infertile couples down the long, dark path that he and his wife walked many years ago.  Don’t get me wrong; I think there is a real kindness in his desire to give guidance and comfort.  But God calls us to so much more than a long walk down a dark path.

He calls us into the light.  He calls us to believe that He can do anything.  And He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are willing to put down our lists of terms and conditions, hold out our open hands, and say:

“Lord, I welcome whatever you choose to give, in whatever form you choose to give it.  I know that your will for me is always your very best.  Please help me wait for it patiently, confident in your goodness, and in complete peace.”

 

What Infertile Couples Want & Need

What can you say to the people around you who want to love you through the struggle with infertility, but have no idea what to do or how to help?  Kathleen Parker, an Opinion columnist for the Washington Post, offered guidance in an editorial about gifts….

“Here is giving:  Listening.  Sparing time.  Not interrupting.  Holding that thought.  Leaving the last drop.  Staying home.  Turning it off, whatever it is.  Making eye contact.  Picking it up.  Take the room’s temperature.  Paying attention.  Waiting.”

That’s how you help an infertile couple.  That’s how you love us through this incredibly challenging, frustrating, stressful, heartbreaking journey.  That’s how you stop trying to fix it, and instead, bless us by being fully present in the moment with us.

By listening, not interrupting, holding that thought, and paying attention –  Sometimes, we need to voice confusion or wrestle aloud with our uncertainty.  Don’t give us “the answer.”  That’s patronizing.  If it were simple, we would have figured it out already.  Instead, keep quiet and give us a chance to blow off steam, rant without fearing a reaction, or cry without worrying you can’t take the drama.  Don’t.  Say.  A word.  You’ll be amazed how your attentive silence speaks volumes.

By sparing time, turning it off (whatever it is), taking the room’s temperature, and making eye contact – So much about the struggle with infertility is humbling and demeaning.  Don’t make us beg for your time or attention.  Don’t make us feel something else is more important.  Be attuned to our moods, and when the room’s temperature is too “hot” or “cold,” be sensitive to what that tells you about what we need:  time alone, or a hug?  Eye contact that invites a confidence, or a glance that says, ‘I know you’re hurting’?  Be.  Fully.  Present.  You’ll be amazed how your attentive heart radiates loving support.

By leaving the last drop, staying home, picking it up, and… waiting –  Infertility makes us feel incredibly vulnerable, wounded and fragile.  Your thoughtfulness can be an amazing antidote.  It lifts our spirits without making us feel guilty or indebted.  Don’t make us ask for kindness; we won’t.  Just know that the littlest kindness is magnified a thousand times by our need to feel that someone cares.  It doesn’t take much, and no words are required.  In fact, it’s better if you let your actions speak.  Not sure what to do?  Wait.  Pay attention.  You’ll see an opportunity.  And you’ll be amazed how your attentive action tells us you understand.

Parker concludes, “Do unto others…. The alternative is surely hell.”

That sums it up pretty succinctly.  There are moments along the infertility journey that are hellish.  When there’s no heartbeat on the ultrasound.  When the doctor’s office isn’t calling and the bleeding won’t stop.  When the baby comes too soon and can’t possibly survive.  When it’s time to tell everyone who thought there was a baby, “We lost it.”  When the dream seems to be dying, and hope is barely alive.

In that moment, do unto us as you would want us to do for you.  Would you want privacy?  Give us some.  Would you want kindness?  Extend it.  Would you need a shoulder to cry on?  Offer one.  Would you be angry at the world?  Understand our intense emotions.  Would you need wisdom?  Know that we will seek it when we are ready to internalize it.  Don’t try to force it on us if we don’t ask for it.  You won’t get the response you want.

“Here is giving….”  Parker began.  So, we’ve made it clear.  This is how you help us.  Now that we’ve told you what we need, please give us the gift of love in ways we will gratefully receive.