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.
StephLewisBlog
People love to be counselors and act like they know what the heck they’re talking about. My Mom and others like to suggest to Jessica that she get a new car when she can’t even repair the one she has now. I like teaching, writing, and advising because you can influence so much and so well. But I’m also scared of it because I don’t feel I know enough, and I certainly don’t want to be one of Job’s counselor’s.
Sorry about your relatives, Steph. It’ll remind you why God and good friends are so great, I guess. At any rate, I’ll be praying about all this stuff for you.
Steph:
Even though we haven’t met, obviously Neal has told me about you and has previously mentioned what you’ve posted about. The unwanted advice and queries I get are nothing compared to yours and, as I’ve told Neal, I’ll definitely be praying for your peace and comfort.
The comment that makes me want to scream the most is the one asking if you might have done something to actually cause this to happen. How can people ask such a question to someone who should be receiving comfort instead? I am very sorry that you are having to deal with this. I had to comfort one of my close friends after her church family attempted to “make her feel better” about probably not being able to ever conceive by telling her that if God intended for her to be a mother, it would happen; otherwise, she just wasn’t supposed to feel the desire to be a mother and should get over it.
I hope I’m not out of line posting this or adding to your weight by being another “advice-giver,” as this is not my intent. You have a perspective on this that outweighs anyone’s advice and a faith that will carry you through no matter what happens…and will comfort you no matter what anyone says about it.