I wanted to read this book to grow my compassion. I wanted to know how to better care for the people in my life now and in the future who may experience the grief of infertility. After all, "Bearing witness to the pain of another is an act of love."
The church is not always kind to women without children, applying pity and judgment to anyone in that category. There have been moments when the church has not been kind to me as a married woman who will likely want children someday, but does not desire them now. I have felt the unspoken judgment of my selfishness and the implied question of why I would want to pursue higher education, a career, a personal ministry, or any interests before or perhaps instead of being a mom, my supposed highest, and to some, only calling. My family of two is not labelled a family, even though "God made a family of two and declared it very good. This union of man and woman was very good, even before children were in the picture. We have learned over the generations to narrow our definition of family to a unit that includes children, but that is a notion of our own social conditioning."
The 'oh, you'll want kids someday' the 'who will take care of you?', 'do you just not like kids?' or my favorite, 'you don't get it because you don't have kids'. Things that may carry elements of truth, but much better left unsaid. The weekday morning Bible study and MOPs, designed not only for moms, but for stay-at-home ones. The blurring of lines between purpose and calling that seems to happen most with motherhood. Please don't hear me saying that motherhood/parenthood isn't important - it is vital - but to rank it as 'highest' diminishes the value of single people, people experiencing infertility, or anyone called to other roles.
Frankly, I am exhausted; how much more would I experience this exhaustion, pain, discomfort, and grief if I desperately wanted to grow my family now and wasn't able, yet or perhaps ever?
If I know a glimpse of the discomfort and tension of this 'young-married' season of life and the expectations surrounding it, it can compel me to care deeply. To watch what I say when someone confesses that they are going through infertility. To perhaps not say anything at all, and fight every fiber of my being that wants to fix to just be.
And most of all, to be someone who stays. "Choosing to be the one who stays will always be a costly, treasured gift." and it is worthwhile. Through the grief, waiting and decisions, I can see the women in my life as worthy and valuable, divinely ordained with purpose, with AND without children, seeing that children are a blessing, and not the ONLY way the Lord blesses. And I can believe it, fully. I can apologize when I make mistakes in the pursuit of loving well, and to choose to be filled up with Jesus and pour out His love to everyone, including the women in my world who are walking through this. I can do better, and I can encourage you to reflect and do better, too.
✨ "The gift of loving well is one you can only give when you dwell in the astonishing grace of Christ Jesus. Giving in and only of yourself will result in a well quickly emptied. The gift you impart in being the one who stays is one drawn—ultimately —from the reality that you are the recipient of the greatest staying power known to man: Emmanuel. The God who is with you and for you, who goes before and hems you in, is your purest source of love. From him, you find not only the wellspring of your own love but also the faithful, sacrificial example of giving you need to move toward others. Jesus showed again and again how costly his love is, and so you, in turn, will do your utmost to imitate his self-emptying, costly love." ✨
I want to shout from rooftops that this is an important book and everyone (especially if you are a part of a Christian community and interact with women in that community, well, ever) should read it.