WHY? WHY? WHY?
There are so many questions we ask of ourselves everyday. Why am I skinny? Why am I black? Why am I fat?
One question that families suffering from infertility ask themselves constantly is “why can’t I have children?”
We may not ask it verbally or even in those terms, but the questions comes through our emotions when we see a pregnant woman and we sigh.
It is seen in our tears when a Mother’s Day commercial comes on and we know we will not be participating in the festivities this year. The question arises in our hearts and minds when we are alone, left pondering why me? The truth is there is nothing wrong with asking the question, but we must be prepared for the answer we receive. Not the simple answers that we hear.
“Relax, it will happen.”
“Don’t worry, there is nothing wrong.”
And even the age old, “In God’s timing it will happen for you.”
Those answers are cute, but nowhere near comforting when you are faced with medical proof that your chances of having children are slim to none without some sort of medical procedure and possibly not at all.
If you are truly going to ask the question, “Why can’t I have kids?” you must go to the source; the one that made you, your creator. Have no fear; God is not scared of questions.
I actually believe that He welcomes them. This is his way of getting into a closer relationship with you. When you ask, he can answer and that begins a relationship with your creator. He’s waiting for you to come to him for guidance.
When I began asking God, “Why me? Why my family?” I began to receive answers by reading God’s word. I found out that there are many women in the Bible that were not able to have children. Now, what did this mean for me? The more I read, the more I discovered that not only were these women not able to have children, but there circumstances seemed impossible to conceive children. Some of them were older in age, some had barren wombs and some the Lord had even shut their wombs for a specific time.
What did this say to me? I continued reading and realized that God had purpose for the lives of every woman that was barren. They were special. Each family’s case was different. It had meaning and the children they eventually had had great significance to God and his work.
I now had a reason for being barren. God had a purpose for me. I was special. I was different. And the children I bore would have definite purpose in the Kingdom of God.
In love and faith,