Josh sent me this pic from my brother’s wedding. He said he liked it because I looked all cute and smiley. But it disturbed me. It’s a picture of me and my niece, Jenna. She’s obviously very wiggly.
It was awesome to go back to MN last weekend and see Nate tie the knot. The thing that stunk about it is how many of my relatives have zero tact and feel the need to talk to me about having children. I mean, if you say, “Planning on trying again soon?” and I say, “No,” — can’t you just leave it at that? But no, they all need to go on and on about how “the other three weren’t meant to be” and “you just need to keep trying” and “I just know God will give you children someday” and “if you pray hard enough God will give you a child” and “is there anything you’ve done wrong that would make God keep your children from you?” and on and on and on. And I play the polite game, giving one word answers, trying to change the subject, and sometimes having to just say, “You know, I really appreciate your concern, but I’d really rather not discuss this.” Sigh.
A friend of mine just finished teaching at Jr. High Church about Job. We heard all about Job’s counselors, always claiming that they knew God and that Job must have done something dreadful to deserve his fate. Always giving advice, even when he didn’t ask for it. Always sticking their noses in, believing that they really had something significant to say. And, what happened? In the end, we realize that there were spiritual events occurring that warranted Job’s situation. And, when Job dared to question God’s reasons for making his life all sucky, God responds by telling Job all of the glorious things that He has done. And Job is left in awe of the Lord.
I guess I didn’t expect my own family to be filled with so many counselors.
I think that’s why this picture disturbed me. It looked like it was maybe me with one of the faceless children I’ve lost. Or perhaps a look into the future, of the one not yet formed. All in all, it visually pretty much summarizes my struggle for the past few years.