Meditating on God's Word

In order to benefit from a Bible reading plan, I need to not just do the reading; I need to meditate on God's word. Here is a quote from George Mueller on this idea:

"...the first and great primary business to which I ought to attend every day was, to have my soul happy in the Lord. The first thing to be concerned about was not how much I might serve the Lord, how I might glorify the Lord; but how I might get my soul into a happy state, and how my inner man might be nourished. ... the most important thing I had to do was to give myself to the reading of the word of God, and to meditation on it, that thus my heart might be comforted, encouraged, warned, reproved, instructed; and that thus, by means of the word of God, whilst meditating on it, my heart might be brought into experimental communion with the Lord. ... The first thing I did, after having asked in a few words the Lord's blessing upon his precious word, was, to begin to meditate on the word of God, searching as it were into every verse, to get blessing out of it; not for the sake of the public ministry of the word, not for the sake of preaching on what I had meditated upon, but for the sake of obtaining food for my own soul. The result I have found to be almost invariably this, that after a very few minutes my soul has been led to confession, or to thanksgiving, or to intercession, or to supplication; so that, though I did not, as it were, give myself to prayer, but to meditation, it turned almost immediately more or less into prayer. When thus I have been for a while making confession, or intercession, or supplication, or have given thanks, I go on to the next words or verse, turning all, as I go on, into prayer for myself or others, as the word may lead to it, but still continually keeping before me that food for my own soul is the object of my meditation." (emphasis mine)

I want a happy soul, a soul that is rich in communion with God! George Mueller's ideas are so helpful toward this end.

What does meditation on God's word look like, practically? Here is an example from some of my own recent study. As a sort of theme verse for my current reading plan, I have memorized 1 John 5:20-21. "And we know that the Son of God has come..." Here I can stop and marvel that Jesus Christ has come to be the Savior of the world. What an amazing truth in those ten words! The Son of God has come, he has taken on flesh, broken into the sinful world, died on a cross, and provided redemption. "...and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true..." Not only has Jesus come, but he makes a way for us to know him. We have opportunity to grow in understanding of the infinite God. "...and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ..." I am saved by God incarnate, I can know God infinite, and I can abide in God. My life is wrapped up in him, and in him I am seen as righteous. "He is the true God and eternal life..." He is the only true God, and he is the only true eternal life. Why would I go anywhere else for happiness and satisfaction? "Little children, keep yourselves from idols." I need this reminder. I am God's child, yet I am prone to worship other things. I need to be on guard against idols, and especially right now the idol of having a child. I could go on, but see how meditation makes our experience of reading God's word so much richer? When we meditate, God's word intersects with our lives and sinks deeper into our souls.

A Plan to Read God's Word

If we want to prioritize God's word in our lives, we need a plan for reading God's word. Without some sort of plan, I will find myself sitting with Bible in hand, closed, unsure of where to turn and what to read. That uncertainty quickly leads to discouragement, and before I know it I'm not even picking up the Bible for private devotion anymore. So for the past couple of years I have had specific plans for my quiet times, and my love for God's word and its fruit in my life have grown. Now, it is vital to keep in mind that a plan is a tool. If you can't follow your plan, don't feel condemned. Take hold of grace, make adjustments to your plan as needed, and start again. Also, feel free to take breaks from your plan. For instance, for about a year and a half, I was following the daily readings in D.A. Carson's For the Love of God (Vol. 1). Most days, I read the passages that were listed in order. However, there were times when I felt the need to focus on putting a particular sin to death, or on rereading some Scriptures about suffering, or on a topic related to the teaching at church. So I would set aside my plan for a time (anywhere from a couple days to a couple months) and pursue that other focus. The point is that a plan should be helpful, not rigid, and you should continue to ask the Spirit's guidance as you follow your plan. Lastly, I find it helpful not only to plan for what I will read but also to plan for when I will read. Most weekdays, I sit down with my breakfast, my Bible, a journal, and any supplemental books I might be reading. This is what works best in my current season of life. My husband, who gets up much much earlier than I do, finds that he is too groggy during his morning at home, so he tries to get into his office 30 minutes or so before he needs to start work, and he spends time in God's word there. Find a plan for what to read and when to read, a plan that works with your schedule (and you may need to rearrange some things, like bedtime, to make God's word a priority), and you will benefit!

My current plan is to study God's character. After looking at the topic of idolatry, I thought it would help my soul to love God more than anything else if I learned to see him more fully. So each day, I read a small section from one of the chapters about God's attributes in Wayne Grudem's Bible Doctrine. Then, I spend time reading and meditating on specific passages of Scripture that Grudem references in the section I've read. My view of God is definitely growing larger as I study his infinity, his holiness, his presence, his goodness. I'm looking forward to what I will learn as I continue this reading plan. I'm also always looking for new ideas for plans to take in God's word, so let me know if you have a plan to recommend!

God's Word

For the month of January, our church has been considering God's word, through 3 sermons and a seminar. (Before that, we had the privilege of hearing an absolutely outstanding message on "Not Shifting from the Gospel" - I wish I had posted on it, but I didn't have time to do so earlier this month; I highly recommend you listen to it for yourself!) God's word has been a dear source of comfort to me during this lengthy season of affliction, and it was good to be reminded of those benefits through these recent messages. A few points have particularly stood out:

• We most need to rely on Scripture as true when we don't see the truth of it reflected in our circumstances. I have found this to be the case in my struggles with infertility. The more my situation makes it look like God is distant or uncaring, the more I need to cling to the truth in God's word that tell me he is near and kind. As it seems less and less likely that we will conceive, I need more and more to believe that all things work for my good (Rom. 8:28).
• The effect of Scripture on our souls is gradual, occuring over time. I spent many, many months meditating on 1 Peter 4:19 before I began to see in my life any fruit of trusting my faithful Creator. If you have been trying to spend time in God's word and are discouraged about lack of growth, don't give up! Affection for God and his word will come in time.
• God is eager to reveal himself to us, especially through Scripture. He is not hiding. Even reading some of the most difficult to understand passages, we can look for our need for a Savior (examples of sin and suffering in this fallen world) and God's disposition to provide a Savior (to rescue his people from their sin and suffering).

I have been encouraged afresh to press into God's word, to search in Scripture for comfort and correction. This week, I'll continue to share some thoughts about how I personally plan to benefit from God's word in the coming months.

Round 8, Day 13

Thank you to all of you who prayed for our IUI yesterday. It went very, very well. We were almost completely free from anxiety during both the “preparation” and the procedure. Aaron’s counts basically tripled from the numbers in the past. As a result, our attitudes have shifted from expecting next to nothing out of this cycle to cautious optimism that it might actually be a success. We really pray that it is so. In the meantime, we are seeking to set our minds on the Spirit rather than on the possibility of conception, because “to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace” (Rom. 8:6). Who doesn’t want life and peace?

Next medical step: a progesterone check on Monday.

Coming this week on the blog (schedule permitting): thoughts on God’s word.

Round 8, Day 9

All systems go for an IUI on Monday morning. (A bout of the flu this week appears not to have interfered at all.) My ultrasound this morning revealed the usual gaggle of follicles that just need a little more prompting. The largest on the left was 16mm, and the largest on the right was 20mm, but judging by my estrogen levels the 20mm is actually that little cyst Wendy saw last week. So we'll give the 16mm a few days to grow (and another dose of Follistim to grow on), and some of the other medium-sized ones on both ovaries will probably catch up. Please pray for Monday morning to go smoothly; the whole IUI process has tended to stress us out. (Of course, that may have something to do with the fact that our past 2 IUIs were done on already crazy days.)

This prayer encouraged me this morning, especially the second half:

O my Saviour,
I thank thee from the depths of my being
for thy wondrous grace and love
in bearing my sin in thine own body on the tree.
May thy cross be to me
as the tree that sweetens my bitter Marahs,
as the rod that blossoms with life and beauty,
as the brazen serpent that calls forth the look of faith.
By thy cross crucify my every sin;
Use it to increase my intimacy with thyself;
Make it the ground of all my comfort,
the liveliness of all my duties,
the sum of all thy gospel promises,
the comfort of all my afflictions,
the vigour of my love, thankfulness, graces,
the very essence of my religion;
And by it give me that rest without rest,
the rest of ceaseless praise.

O my Lord and Saviour,
Thou hast also appointed a cross for me to take up and carry,
a cross before thou givest me a crown.
Thou hast appointed it to be my portion,
but self-love hates it,
carnal reason is unreconciled to it;
without the grace of patience I cannot bear it,
walk with it, profit by it.
O blessed cross, what merices dost thou bring with thee!
Thou art only esteemed hateful by my rebel will,
heavy because I shirk thy load.
Teach me, gracious Lord and Saviour,
that with my cross thou sendest promised grace
so that I may bear it patiently,
that my cross is thy yoke which is easy,
and thy burden which is light.

-"The Grace of the Cross" from The Valley of Vision, p. 172

Round 8, Day 2

I'm not big on making new year's resolutions. However, in keeping with its policy of opposing me at every juncture, my reproductive system appears to have made a few. Uterus, cervix, and ovaries jointly resolved to reach new levels of stubbornness and cussedness, and their first ornery act of the year was to delay my period for just over a week while simultaneously yielding negative pregnancy tests. But their fun could only last for so long, and a new cycle began yesterday.

I visited the lovely Wendy the Wonder Wander and Nurse Answers today for ultrasound and bloodwork. There is a tiny cyst on my right ovary (perhaps the reason for the aforementioned belatedness?), but it should not interfere with our treatment plans for this cycle. What, you ask, are those plans? Clomid for the last time, along with a couple injections of Follistim, followed by a chaser of Ovidrel trigger shot and an IUI. I'll keep you posted... Along with all of these fine medications, I'm starting to think that modern fertility treatment has decided to borrow the age-old method of leeching to help patients conceive. In keeping with my clinic's new policy, I apparently need some new blood tests run. So after today's appointment, I hopped straight over to my primary care doctor for another visit to the vampires, uh, I mean, the phlebotomy lab. And remember right arm? Well, after months of being on its best behavior, it chose today to offer only a mere trickle of the elixir of life. So poor left arm bore the brunt of two needle-pokes and valiantly gave up 5 total vials of blood between the two appointments. And while I'm told these are necessary tests, I'm convinced it's just covert leeching.


In other news, it's de-lurking week! Join me on the tail end of the fun and leave a comment. If you read regularly, if you're reading for the first time, if you comment often or never, now is the time. Say hi, and if you feel shy and don't know what else to say, let me know what your new year's resolution is. Maybe my uterus can get some new ideas...

Barrenness and Its Discontents

Sometime last month, a friend asked me if there were certain things I wish people understood about my suffering with infertility. Things that compound the sorrow because others "just don't get it." At the time, I mentioned the pervasiveness of this trial; it is not limited to my reproductive system, but it affects my marriage, my work, my schedule, my friendships, my involvement in church, my relationship with God. That overflow is what first came to mind, but since then I've been pondering the question off and on and I've come up with further answers.

I wish people could understand the grief, the sense of loss. I don't just feel a wistful longing for what I don't have; I feel an aching gap of what could have been - the child that could be learning to walk, or starting to eat solid foods, or smiling for the first time, or ready to enter the world, or beginning to move in my womb, if only we had conceived at any point during the past two years. Month after month I mourn the baby that might have been. And that mourning doesn't diminish over time, like many griefs do - it mounts and grows and swells. When one cycle ends, I weep for the possibility that died that month, and the month before that, and the month before that, and all the months that have come and gone. Studies have shown that women dealing with infertility have depressions rates similar to or surpassing those of people who have AIDS or cancer or other terminal illnesses. I am grateful for the grace that has kept my sorrow from deepening into depression, but my grief could so easily tip into that precipice.

I wish people could understand the horrible catch-22 that infertility has brought into my closest friendships. Many of my closest friends are experiencing all the things that I long for - pregnancy, childbirth, caring for an infant. I don't always know how to deal with that, and I sense that many of my friends don't, either. There are so many "darned if you do, darned if you don't" scenarios: A friend joyfully announces a pregnancy. I want to be happy for her, but her good news is a stinging reminder of my anguish, and I fight back tears as I offer congratulations and wish she has been more sensitive. Alternatively, a friend waits for months to tell me about her pregnancy because she is not sure how to tell me and does not want to hurt me. When she finally shares, I go through the first steps of my previous reaction, then find a private place to cry over the fact that infertility has put up barriers in our friendship and turned me into a burden on others, a pariah. Or consider another: I am with a group of friends with newborns, and the conversation naturally turns to infant milestones, breastfeeding tactics, or some other such stuff. I start to withdraw, get a glassy stare, and mentally chant, "Do not give in to self-pity! Do not give in to self-pity! But what are they thinking to talk about this stuff around me?" But if my friends don't tell me about those milestones, about how they are feeling post-partum, or if I am not with them as they discuss those things, I feel left out and awkward and like I don't have a place in their lives anymore because I haven't conceived or given birth. Added to the grief of infertility is the grief of feeling friendships slip away. I want to still be a friend, and I want to serve my friends, and I want to know what their lives are like right now. But all of that hurts right now, and it is messy, and it takes a lot of patience on both sides to sort through.

I wish people could understand the way the heartache of infertility sneaks up on me in some of the most mundane moments. A song uses barrenness as a metaphor for spiritual dryness, and while most people just sing right through it, I am stuck in my tracks. I am barren, not metaphorically but literally, physically. My mouth continues to form the rest of the words of the song, but my mind is echoing, "I am barren...barren...barren..." We're praying with friends, and they are asking God for the salvation of their children. Others are agreeing in prayer. Meanwhile, my heart is fluttering rapidly and I have to sit down. My children don't exist. In a conversation with another lady about food spills and cleaning carpets, she mentions how much worse it will be when she has kids. I smile and nod knowingly, but my gut drops. I don't have the luxury of such assumptions. My carpets may be clean forever. These are the sorts of things that no one would even think to notice, but are the flags of infertility that wave at me everywhere I go.

I wish people could understand how unknown the future is. Yes, you might have a friend that tried to get pregnant for 7 years, then gave up and started to adopt, and then had pregancy take her completely by surprise (or whatever the variation of the story). But that doesn't help me. That doesn't give me any guarantees. You may be sure that I'll have babies someday, but I'm not so sure and I seriously question your certainty. I daily stare down the possibility that I will never be pregnant, and it gets more likely with every month that passes. By all means, have faith for me - I certainly need it - but please recognize that only the Lord knows if and when and how he will make me a mother.

I wish people could understand how silent, how hidden infertility is. You cannot tell by looking at me that I am in the midst of affliction*. This is not the kind of trial that mobilizes people to bring meals, to offer to clean the house, to send flowers. I can still function, outwardly. It is inwardly that I fall apart and lose control. People ask me if there is anything they can do, and I honestly don't know how to answer that question. But sometimes I wish that infertility brought some kind of acknowledgment besides words.

At this point you may be thinking, "Didn't she say up in paragraph two that she's not depressed? What is all this doom and gloom?" I know this all sounds rather bleak. It's not the complete picture - there is trust in God, there is spiritual fruit, there are many, many kind and compassionate friends, there is some kind of burgeoning hope - but I wanted to take time to write about the facets of my personal suffering that are often hardest to express. Because the anguish is real. Distress is not dismissed. Not by God. Not by me. And, hopefully if you've read this, not by you.

*Unless I am publicly weeping. Which does happen, and is humbling.

Catching Up

Well, the new year is underway. We had a pleasant Christmas visit to West Virginia - where I did not have access to high-speed internet, so I'm now trying to catch up on e-mail, blog reading, etc. My apologies to Amy for the long delay in publishing her comment. I'm also still catching up on life at home and work, and those take priority over blogging. Until I'm enough up to speed to continue posting, I leave you with this snapshot of an infertile holiday adventure...

After attending church with Aaron's family in West Virginia, I was walking across the fellowship hall when I was hailed by a lady who knows the Pattersons well. From the other side of the room she asked, "Andrea, how are you feeling?" A little confused, but assuming she is wondering if we're tired from the travel, I reply, "Fine." She continues, "Have you been sick at all?" Realizing that she is probably not referring to my general well-being but assuming that I am gestating, I cut to the chase. "No. I'm not pregnant." Well, somehow she had heard wrongly that I was (perhaps someone slipped and said the wrong name when talking about my sister-in-law who is due in April?). She said she'd been praying for me to have a healthy pregnancy for months, so she was duly surprised not to see a baby belly on me. I said that she was welcome to pray instead for us to conceive. She inquired further and I explained that we have been trying for two years. Unexpectedly, her response was knowledgeable and compassionate (not the mere platitudes that many acquaintances tend to offer). While the encounter was definitely a startling and melancholy reminder of my un-pregnant state, God helped me to react graciously and turned the conversation to a good ending - more people praying for us!

Late in Time

In many ways, I've been dreading this Christmas season. Yet another year has come and gone, and I am still not pregnant. I am certainly not celebrating baby's first Christmas. Two years have passed since Aaron and I sat in our car, stuck in a snowstorm on the way to West Virginia, and talked dreamily about how next year we'd probably be a family of three for the holidays. A year has passed since I thought that despite the disappointments of 2005, surely I would at least be pregnant by the end of 2006. I dare not hope for 2007. And not only is Christmas a painful reminder of the children we do not yet have, it is a season focused on the holiness of a birth. We tell and re-tell the amazing story of a virgin who conceived, for goodness' sake. I love the story, believe it with all my heart, but yet there is something about that miracle that can bring a small ache to my infertile soul.

So I dreaded Christmas this year. But God has mercifully given me a new measure of joy, instead of the heartache I anticipated. My circumstances are still difficult, my trial is not over, my temptations still press in. Yet I find myself singing. As we sang "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" in church a couple weeks ago, the Spirit illuminated to me the words, "Late in time behold him come, offspring of a virgin's womb." At first, I felt that pang, but then I really thought about those lyrics. Though he was suddenly and unexpectedly conceived (from a human perspective), Christ's birth was long awaited. A barren world yearned for centuries for the Messiah to come. Thousands lived and died, hoping for the birth of a Savior, trusting God's promise of a Redeemer. Human hearts were sick with sin and deferred hope. Then, oh miraculous act of love, God became man, took on flesh as a tiny infant. Immanuel. God with us. God with us in our deepest suffering. God with us to rescue us from his own wrath against our sin. God with us to give us himself.

This month, every time I think of the anguish of the past couple of years and the anxiety about the upcoming year, I remember. "Late in time behold him come." My years of waiting to conceive are small in comparison to the centuries that the world waited for the Savior to be born. My suffering - though still weighty - is infinitely lighter because I live after that birth, after Christ bore the burden of my sins. I am waiting for a baby, but I am not waiting for a Redeemer. I trust and hope that I will see my child's face one day; I know with certainty that I will see my Lord's face in heaven.

Oh Where, Oh Where Can She Be?

In case you've noticed my blogging hiatus, I say with abject humility that I have better reasons for it than Adam. In fact, I have about 55 reasons. Here are a few of them:

Aren't they precious reasons? Last Sunday, our church presented its children's Christmas musical. As director and co-author of the program, I've had my hands full. I am so grateful to the Lord for blessing the creation and production of this musical. The kids proclaimed the good news of Christmas with great joy through song and drama, and we were all delighted.

If you've been paying close attention, you might remember the footnote to this post. The best laid plans of mice and men and all that, but due to travel, a mission presentation, and musical rehearsals, I've only heard 2 complete sermons since September. Lord willing, I can reboot this part of the blog soon!

Brought to You by the Letter "M"

Bit of Miscellany #1
If you're playing along with the progesterone levels game, you'll be glad to know that I've managed to hit my highest peak yet - 40wupmL. And that was only 5dpo (for those unfamiliar with the infertility acronyms, that stands for "days past ovulation"), when progesterone usually crests at 7dpo.

Bit of Miscellany #2
Speaking of high peaks, did you know that when Aaron and I went to Galena for our anniversary two weeks ago, we were within a few miles of the highest elevation point in the state of Illinois? Yes, that's right folks, Charles Mound scales in at a lofty 1,235 feet above sea level. I should specify that it is the tallest natural point, because my sources tell me that the Sears Tower is actually taller. Aahh, the glories of the plains... Anyway, Aaron and I had hoped to visit this illustrious landmark, but sadly it is on private property and very rarely open to the public.

Bit of Miscellany #3
I've been monitoring visitors to my blog (yes, I am watching you!), and I'm a little curious about some of my readers. I can figure out who the Naperville & Wheaton, Waco & Austin readers are, for the most part. But who are my regular readers in San Marcos, TX*, and Clarksville, MD? And how about LaGrange, IL? Speak up if that's you; I'd like to meet you!

*I think the spellcheck tool likes Texas. It didn't question any of the cities named from the Lone Star State, but highlighted as suspicious all the cities in Illinois and Maryland.

If a Tree Falls...

...in an apartment in the middle of the night when the residents are sleeping, does anyone hear it?

Decidedly yes. At first it is a little mysterious. What was that crash and tinkling sound? After the husband and wife consult with each other, the husband gets up and goes to the living room. He confirms that, yes, the Christmas tree has fallen over at 4 a.m. The live Christmas tree with a stand full of water that is now all over the carpet. The Christmas tree that was just decorated that very evening, and now has strewn ornaments, lights, and garland like shrapnel. Oh, and what seems like about one-third of its needles have formed a new rug for the dining room.

It took us a very groggy hour to get the tree back up in the stand, hopefully more secure (although it did start to fall over two more times while we were cleaning up, so we're not holding our breath). Thankfully, only 2 ornaments broke, and neither had great sentimental value.

As Aaron said, "It's good to have midnight adventures every now and then." Like the time we woke up to water pouring through the heat lamp in our bathroom ceiling. Or the time we heard a huge crash in the kitchen, and Aaron threw his arm protectively across me and told me to wait while he confronted the burglar - which ended up being 2 shelves of mugs that fell and shattered on the tile floor. Good times, good times*.

*But I'd rather be woken up at 4 a.m. by a baby crying than my Christmas tree toppling...

Round 6, Day 9

Quick update after today's ultrasound and bloodwork:

I have one large follicle on each ovary (20mm and 17mm), plus several smaller ones as well. I'll do another dose of Follistim tonight and then have a Thanksgiving trigger shot. Nurse Answers informed me that we cannot do an IUI this round, due to a new policy at the clinic that all males must be tested for HIV and such before any procedures can be done. (The policy used to just include female patients, so I've already had this pointless-for-us blood panel done, but now Aaron too will get to undergo useless needle-sticking.) Instead of an IUI, we'll have timed intercourse. I'm actually grateful to God for this change. IUI's have been pretty stressful for us, and it would have been hard to rearrange a busy holiday weekend around a visit to the clinic in the northern suburbs. Technically, our chances of conceiving may be lower without the IUI, but I am daring to feel somewhat optimistic about this combination of high-tech medicine and old-fashioned baby-making. Only the Lord knows when and how he will bestow the gift of life, but I pray this will be the month!

Nahum 1:7 "The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; he knows those who take refuge in him."

Round 6, Day 8

Well, here we are, midway through another treatment cycle, and my blog has been pining away with no updates. (I have a good excuse, though - my husband whisked me away to this lovely B&B* for our anniversary; the house did offer internet access, but I love my husband more than my blog and therefore had better things to do with my time!) Here's the skinny on this month's fertility protocol:

Last Thursday's ultrasound showed that the monstrous cysts are completely and utterly gone - thank you, Lord! So I was given the all clear for another Clomid-IUI cycle, but this time with more injection fun! I'm adding at least 2 days of Follistim, a shot that is meant to thicken up my uterine lining (translation: we're trying to create a cozy environment for a little Patterson to snuggle up in for a good nine months, instead of a womb as a rocky place in which seed can find no purchase). As a result of the need to give myself a minimum of 3 shots this month (the new med and the one I already use to trigger ovulation), I am now the proud owner of a sharps container! Just looking out for the good garbagemen of Naperville... Anyway, I have another ultrasound tomorrow to see how the follicles and lining have developed, and pending those results, we'll probably do an IUI sometime this weekend. Please send Thanksgiving prayers our way!

Speaking of prayers, I had the following exchange with my 5-year-old nephew on Sunday:

"You and uncle Aaron are married, so you can have kids."

"That's true, we are. In fact, we would like that. You can ask God to give us a baby."

Without further ado, "Dear God, please help my uncle and aunt Andery to have a baby. Amen."



*for those of you who want to know which room we stayed in (Amanda), it was the Lene.

Inferdolatry Part 5

Thinking in terms of idolatry opened up a window of understanding into my current trial of infertility. "We don't simply suffer; we suffer as sinners with a deep propensity to run after god-replacements. And, as believers, we don't just suffer as sinners but as those who have been united with Christ and therefore no longer live under the mastery of sin" (Tripp, p. 93). Infertility is grievous; idolatry is even more grievous. I don't know how or when this affliction will end, but I do know that my idolatry will end, crumbling bit by bit here on earth and ultimately toppling when my Savior brings me to heaven. I know it will be an ongoing struggle, but I want to put my desire for a child into the proper orbit. I want God as the sun in the center of my solar system, and I want good things - like children - revolving like planets around him. 1 Peter 4:1-2 says, "Since therefore Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves with the same way of thinking, for whoever has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin, so as to live for the rest of the time in the flesh no longer for human passions but for the will of God." As I walk through the suffering of infertility, I want to see sin diminished in my life. I want suffering to make me more like my Savior. I will still have passions - included the intense yearning for children - but I should not live for them. I live for God, who is love and life.

"And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life. Little children, keep yourselves from idols." (1 John 5:20-21)

Inferdolatry Part 4

As I began to really see how I had made having a baby into an idol, I became very discouraged. I felt like the battle for my heart had already been lost. I was living as a functional atheist; how could I hope to change? I couldn't imagine ever wanting a baby any less. Satisfaction in God alone seemed impossible. But I had forgotten that the battle lines are not just drawn between me and my desires. The real fight is between God an my idolatry. Referring to James 4:1-10, Paul Tripp says:

"We are not battling by ourselves - God battles for us! James is saying, 'Don't you know that the Spirit who lives inside you envies intensely? In the middle of the battle you can't forget that God is a jealous God. He loves you too much to make room for other lovers. He will oppose your proud and self-absorbed living, not because he is against you, but because he loves you.' Praise God that he will settle for nothing short of the final victory in our hearts. Our hope to be who we were meant to be is directly tied to his jealous desire for our hearts....
...James says more. This jealous God is a giver of grace, the most powerful weapon in the war for the heart. God's grace gives us power to say no to powerful desires. It enables us to turn from the creation toward the Creator. It makes us willing to forsake our kingdoms for his. God's grace forgives, but it also constrains and draws and wins. It is jealous, God-focused grace, fitted for the moments we are tempted to follow our desires" (p. 84).

God wants my heart. He will make himself greater and more satisfying in my eyes than pregnancy or motherhood. No matter how great my yearning for a child, he will not rest until my affections and desires for him are even greater. He is my Hope.

Inferdolatry Part 3

The following quote really stood out to me as a picture of what has happened in my heart during my experience of infertility; I was both convicted and encouraged, and I hope you might be, too!

“If my heart is ruled by the desire for a certain thing, it will affect my relationship with God in two principal ways. First, it will shape my attitude when I pray. Rather than prayer being a worshipful act of submission to God, I will pray self-centered and demanding prayers – if I pray at all. I may be so intent on getting what I want that I forget God. Not only will my attitude in prayer be affected, but the kind of god I want will change as well. Let me explain.
If a certain set of desire rules my heart, I will not want God to be a wise, loving, sovereign Father who gives me what he knows is best. Instead, I will want a divine waiter who delivers what I have set my heart on….
When a certain set of desires rules our hearts, we reduce prayer to the menu of human desire. Worse, we shrink God from his position of all-wise, all-loving, all-powerful Father to a divine waiter we expect to deliver everything we ask. But God will not shrink to this size. He will only be our Father and King, who ‘satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s’ (Ps. 103.5). He knows what is best, and he will not let there be peace until he alone controls our hearts. He is a Warrior King, who will not rest when we are captive to other kings. He fights for us, for the thoughts and desires of our hearts.”
Instruments in the Redeemer's Hands, p. 83

Inferdolatry Part 2

How does the good desire for a child turn into an idol? On pp. 86-87 of Instruments in the Redeemer's Hands, Paul Tripp narrates the progression of idolatry. What starts as a desire becomes a demand, then a perceived need, which leads to expectation and disappointment. When my desire for children becomes a demand, I start insisting that God ought to give me a baby when and how I want one. "Demand is the closing of my fists over a desire. Even though I may be unaware that I have done it, I have left my proper position of submission to God. I have decided that I must have what I have set my heart on and nothing can stand in the way. I am no longer comforted by God's desire for me; I am threatened by it, because God's will potentially stands in the way of my demand" (p. 86). Then, the demand for children according to my plan becomes, in my mind, a need. I start to believe that I need children to be happy, to be satisfied, to have any joy. So I set up expectations: if children are what I need to have a good life, God will give them to me, right? If I can just get God to agree with me about how important this is, he'll make sure our family grows according to my plans. These are the false expectations produced by my demand. Then, when God doesn't accept my dictation, when his accomplishment of his perfect purposes doesn't match up with my idea of what I need, I am disappointed with him. He has not in fact disappointed or tempted me, but when the Lord of all doesn't bow down in worship to my idol of a baby, I wrongly accuse him of being unloving, unfair, unkind, and generally against me. I stop believing his character and his promises. In essence, I become just like the people described in Romans 1:22-23. "Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles." God offers me the glory of Christ and of sharing with him in his sufferings, and I think I would rather have a baby instead. No wonder I end up so miserable in the face of my struggles with infertility!

Inferdolatry

James 1:12-15 Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. Let no one say when he is tempted, "I am being tempted by God," for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.

What has infertility to do with idolatry? (Apologies to Tertullian.) At first glance, not much. Infertility is technically defined as the inability to conceive after one year of trying. Idolatry makes most people think of little statues and false gods. But when you define idolatry as worshiping anything other than the one true, triune God, a connection between infertility and idolatry is made. Infertility is difficult for me primarily because I desire a child more than I desire God.

James 1 tells me that it is my own desire that entices me away from loving God. All the sins that have been exposed in my life over the past year and a half - jealousy, self-pity, anxiety, unbelief, pride - they all have been conceived by my desire for a child. (Not the kind of conception I'm really aiming for!) This does not mean that my desire for a child is itself wrong or sinful. In fact, God's word makes it clear that children are gifts, blessings. But most idolatry lies not in what we want, but in wanting it too much. If I pursue something good, like a child, more than I pursue my Lord and Savior, who is good and does good, then I am an idolater.

I've spent some time in recent weeks reading through Instruments in the Redeemer's Hands Ch. 5 and meditating on James 1 & 4 and Galatians 5. I'd like to take several posts to share what I've learned about the idolatry in my heart and about the hope for change offered to me by Jesus. Here's a quote from the beginning of Paul Tripp's book to set a foundation for the rest to come:

"As sinners, we have a natural bent to turn away from the Creator to serve the creation. We turn away from hope in a Person to hope in systems, ideas, people, or possessions. Real Hope stares us in the face, but we do not see Him. ... We must not offer people a system of redemption, a set of insights and principles. We offer people a Redeemer." (p. 8)

Round 5, Day 3

My ultrasound today revealed cysts - 2 enormous ones on my left ovary and 2 little ones that don't matter on my right. Wendy's eyes widened as soon as she saw the image on the screen, and she was very surprised that I wasn't in severe pain from them. She showed me the pictures so that I could see what was happening to my poor overburdened ovary.

The right looked something like this - see the faint oval oultine with the little black dots? The ovary is the oval shape, and it's about normal size. The little black dots are small cysts; I have 2 about 11mm each (anything under 16mm is fine for proceeding with fertility treatment).

The left, however, looked like this - that big black circle is one huge cyst, with the ovary swollen around it. Only I have 2 of those, approximately 2 inches each, bulging together. Not a pretty picture.

So, at least another month off before we attempt a new protocol. I'm supposed to take it easy for a little bit, so those fatties don't bust. Although I was praying for no cysts, I am asking God to help me see even them as a gift from Him. On a lighter note, at least all that cystiness explains the sudden swelling of my abdomen in the past couple weeks - I like that explanation better than blaming it on all the yummy desserts I was fed in Texas!