The Mystery of Infertility
As a young wife I desired children but that goal was not realized for six long, long years.
Six years times twelve months equals 72 months of waiting. As each month began I refused to hope, then I couldn’t help myself and I began to hope, then once again I was enduring the bitter disappointment of no pregnancy.
During those agonizing years of waiting, every Sunday in church at Communion, I would cry out silently in great distress before the Lord, to remember me with a baby. I always left comforted.
I knew the story of barren Hannah in First Samuel 1:10-17, but at that time I didn’t realize that I was praying Hannah’s own words.
I was also comforted by the story of Elizabeth and Zechariah in Luke 1:1-33 who were described as righteous but barren until the birth of John the Baptist. My faithful Lord heard me and eventually, in His time, sent us Daniel and Bethany.
Fifteen years ago I stood in the Church of the Immaculate Conception in Nazareth, Israel, praying for my brother and his wife to have a baby. The Lord answered that prayer by sending them four babies. Then just last year in Shiloh, Israel, I stood in the archaeological ruins of the Tabernacle of the Lord which had stood there 3300 years ago. I stood, possibly where Hannah had stood, and again I cried out to the Lord to remember me with a grandbaby for it appears that infertility is attempting to affect my next generation.
In Genesis 1:26, God commanded Adam and Eve to “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth.” I now possess the confidence of faith that in God’s perfect time he will fulfill what he commands of us.
Only God opens and closes wombs and only God creates man in his own divine image at the moment of conception. Every child is born to accomplish an eternal purpose of good at a specific time and place. No one else on earth, in the present or the future, can accomplish this child’s divinely appointed task. Children are irreplaceable!
Yesterday, with my own ears, I heard my granddaughter, True, 23 months old, speak the name Jesus for the first time. Recently, my 4 year old grandson, Tell, accompanied me on the tour of the Tabernacle that visited our city of Portales. Now, we read over and over the story of Samuel who lived in the Tabernacle and whose mom was Hannah.
Oh, by the way, my middle name is Hannah.