“You’ll Never Have Children of Your Own”

Every so often, I get frustrated with our kids. There are moments–and even days–when they get on my last nerve, and sometimes they jump on it a few times for good measure. The amount of time it takes to discipline, teach, and motivate gets to be overwhelming at times.

But every so often, those words ring in my ears, “Unless something changes, you’ll never have children of your own.”

For those who don’t know our story, Mary Carol is our adopted treasure. We were told by a reproductive endrocrinologist that having children was a very, very faint possibility. To this day, I am thankful for the way he told us. He was direct, but very kind.

It was a day that still hurts my heart to think about. The look on Leah’s face for the rest of that day crushes me still. I remember having “the moment” as a husband. It is the moment when you realize it’s up to you to be strong in the midst of a storm.

When I talk about it now, I still remember that it was a Wednesday, because the preacher–yes, a preacher–did not want to go to services that night. Yes, we went, but we put on that famous “fake Christian smile,” and got away as soon as possible. We were torn apart inside.

Some of you come to services all the time with that same gnawing feeling inside. Maybe it’s news from a doctor. Maybe it’s a job loss. Maybe it’s a relationship that is hanging on by a thread. Maybe, possibly, you are even considering ending your life.

I may not know the specifics of your situation, but I know that feeling of just putting one foot in front of the other to get through a day.

But now, we are almost seven years the other side of that news. In fact, next month will mark 7 years (yes, I remember quite well when it was). We were blessed to adopt Mary Carol later that same year. A few months later the same doctor who said we’d never have children showed us our first sonogram of Turner. He went so far as to say that, in over 20 years in this line of work, he had never seen a case like ours.

I have no idea how it will turn out for you, but I do know this: things grow better in the valley. I may not handle funerals or sicknesses well, but when someone is dealing with pregnancy or infertility, I can empathize with those emotions and of dealing with a grieving lady. When you go through a valley, you have the opportunity to help others who are going through that same valley.

And every time I get frustrated with my kids, I pray that God will never allow me to forget those chilling words, “You’ll never have children of your own.” Praise Him! He blessed us with two wonderful children, but praise Him, too, because He has walked with us through the valley, so that we can walk with others.

Father,

Thank you for Mary Carol and Turner. Thank you for walking with us through a time that it hurts to remember. Though we didn’t handle every day properly, You were always there. You continue to be there for us. Help us appreciate the two treasures you have brought into our life, and help us to raise them to Your glory.

Through Christ,

Amen

QUESTION: How do you handle the valleys of life?