Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel—Good News for the Childless Women with Achy, Empty Arms
Welcome to Motherhood: Yes, You
If you are a striving Latter-Day Saint woman who aches for a baby…
If you wonder what God is up to in your childless life…
If you have yearned with all your heart for your own child but remain childless…
If you have prayed your face nearly off for the chance to mother an offspring…
If you have held a tiny baby recently come from heaven and longed for it to be your own…
If you have wished for little hands and feet to interrupt your comings and goings…
If you have ached to hear an innocent one call you, in earnest tones, Mother…
If you have imagined yourself bandaging bloody knees and kissing tear-stained cheeks,
If you have ever sung a child’s lullaby while swaying back and forth, cradling an imaginary infant…
If you have ever found yourself standing in the kid’s section of the local library picking out the must haves for the children not at home…
If you have – with all your mother heart – trusted and believed in God’s not yet fulfilled promises for a child…
If you are seeing that window of opportunity on earth finally close all the way tightly shut for you…
Then…
This article is for you.
For years, you and I have been this woman. Barren. Childless. Prayer after prayer after prayer for a baby. Watching others bear. Cradling their babies. Dreaming of being pregnant. Marveling at the impeccable Creator behind the human female body – one fully capable of carrying another little “g” God. Imagining the facial features of heaven’s newest family bestowal. Wondering what it must feel like to nurse – to be connected to another soul in such an exceptional way! Almost buying maternity shirts – as if wearing them could make us pregnant. Never quite being able to avoid the baby section in stores, stopping for a few seconds to admire the brown beaded baby moccasins, the adorable giraffe pajamas, or the new way infant attire zips from the bottom up nowadays.
Hating to do it for fear of the frogs that will inevitably settle in our throats and make us unable to talk for a few moments but not able to resist the urge. Never letting a baby get by us without pestering the parents to stop so we can selfishly rob a few minutes of their time satisfying our newborn hunger. All the while, holding onto and believing – somehow believing month after month of negative pregnancy tests – God’s promises to us. And finally, watching in total dismay and dread as the fertility window falls coldly to the bottom of the pane and is at last all the way closed here on earth.
You know.
It is a difficult place to be. And to stay. Year after year after year after year.
Observing the sometimes difficult parent-child struggle from the outside, I have been guilty of whispering under my breath, “Whew, that looks hard. So glad I don’t have any children.” Other times when I have been humble enough, I have arrived at a place of acceptance and have completely trusted God in His withholding. Most of the time, though, I have found myself somewhere in between – lots of hurting, crying, wondering, and yearning.
Married in my late 30’s and presently nearing my late 40’s, I now longingly gaze out the fertility window that feels largely closed. Because we are women on the same journey of infertility, because it hurts so much, and because I hope to help, come with me, if you kindly will, to the Bible where five of my dearest women friends can be found. These women, four of whom we know were childless for years like you and like me, have been colossal pillars of strength as I’ve slogged through the low valley of infertility.
Though they lived seemingly eons ago, the time between us seems inconsequential. I have, over the years, poured over their stories, their divinely appointed missions, their words, their heartaches, their faithful lives, their immeasurable contributions to the work of God. I always thought if I had any female children, I would honor these Biblical women by giving my girls their sacred names. Since that hasn’t been my opportunity or great privilege, may I honor them now by sharing with you how they’ve helped me deal with the trial of infertility. I do realize that those of whom I write were eventually blessed with (a) child(ren); I acknowledge that has not been the case for me and may not be your situation either, but I believe their faith in Christ (when they struggled with a heart ache only those who experience it can fully understand) can strengthen and reinforce our own.
Can we start anywhere but with Mother Eve? In no less than chapter three of Genesis, we read: “And Adam called his wife’s name Eve; because she was the mother of all living.” 1
Sheri Dew insightfully taught,
“Of all the words they could have chosen to define her role
and her essence, both God the Father and Adam called Eve
“the mother of all living” – and they did so before she ever
bore a child. Like Eve, our motherhood began before we
were born.” 2
When I more fully understood this – thanks to Sister Dew – I was overjoyed! Not only does this truth hint to the reality of motherhood being an eternal calling, but it also teaches that women who do not bear children in this mortal realm still have claim on motherhood while living in mortality. While the details differ for each woman who partakes of motherhood without partaking of the experience of personal pregnancy, the absolute truth is that she can still partake.
I don’t know if Eve had to wait for any of her children – probably not since it was her and Adam’s grand commission to multiply and replenish the earth. What I do know is that she has helped childless me realize that I still have a part in motherhood. Barren, I can still partake in it here and now! This comprises so much but certainly includes going to church on Mother’s Day and gratefully accepting the Mother’s Day gift and sweetly delivered Mother’s Day messages. Thank you, magnificent Mother Eve, for teaching me that barren women have a special place under the wide umbrella of motherhood.
I love faithful Father Abraham and believe Sarah at his side was a woman of like spiritual stature. The Bible says that “Abraham and Sarah were old and well stricken in age; and it ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women.” 3 She “was barren; she had no child.” 4 The story of all celebrated stories is when they learned that they would have a son, claim the titles of father and mother of nations, and that their posterity would be as the “stars of the heaven and as the sand which is upon the sea shore.” 5
When three holy men came and talked with Abraham while Sarah was in the tent, she heard the news: she would have a son. “Well stricken in age,” Sarah asked: “After I am waxed old shall I have pleasure, my lord being old also?” 6 And then this gentle reminder from the Lord: “Is any thing (ANY THING) too hard for the Lord?” 7 And we know what happened: Sarah in fact conceived and bore a son, Isaac. She did become a mother of nations. Sweet Sarah was beyond child-bearing years and waited a long time for Isaac. Some of us will have to wait an entire mortal lifetime, but the promise is sure for the faithful. As you wait, I invite you to remember and treasure the words of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland:
“…Some blessings come soon, some come late,
and some don’t come until heaven;
but for those who embrace the gospel
of Jesus Christ, they come…” 8
I revere that holy woman that was first Sarai and then Sarah. I love her for wondering about the seemingly wild and crazy timetable of the Lord. I love her for being the woman chosen for the miracle of birth well beyond childbearing years. To the Hebrew saints, the apostle Paul said of her: “…Sara herself received strength to conceive seed, and was delivered of a child when she was past age, because she judged him faithful who had promised.” 9 She simply chose to believe that God was faithful to His word. He had promised. He would deliver on that promise. She believed in a God of miracles. She beckons to me to judge God faithful – even if His timing feels wild and nothing short of simply crazy. Thank you, Sarah, for rekindling my faith in God sent miracles and for inviting me to judge God faithful, especially after years upon years of waiting.
I love Biblical Hannah. I have loved her for a long time. I became personally and intimately acquainted with her in my 20’s and 30’s when the ache of marriage and motherhood was especially painful in day-to-day living. As I battled my single way into the mid-30’s, Hannah’s story became a convivial place of safe retreat for me. I felt connected to Hannah. There in 1 Samuel, I would pour over her story – sometimes well into the night or in the early morning hours. I cried so many tears with her. “…therefore she wept, and did not eat…And she was in bitterness of soul, and prayed unto the Lord, and wept sore…” 10
I prayed with her. “…she continued praying before the Lord…I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit…[I] have poured out my soul before the Lord…” 11 I rejoiced with her – oh man, I rejoiced with her – when Eli promised her: “Go in peace: and the God of Israel grant thee thy petition that thou hast asked of him…” 12 And then I was nearly beside myself every time I reached verses 19 and 20 of chapter 1: “…and the Lord remembered her…when the time was come about after Hannah had conceived, that she bare a son…” 13 She bore a son! Finally! Her realized promise! After years of barrenness, after being “provoked…sore,” after yearly temple trips. Finally! Hannah’s praise to the Lord is truly lovely after she bears and then incredibly bestows Samuel to the Lord, but it’s what she chose to do when Eli told her to go in peace that has, time after time, comforted me. From the record: “So the woman went her way, and did eat, and her countenance was no more sad…” 14 Went her way. No more sad. She believed the revelation given to her through Eli, one of God’s anointed. Having been married about three years and deeply aching for a child, I was one time sweeping the kitchen floor in our home. Broom in hand, I paused for a moment of meditation on the subject of motherhood, and quietly into my mind came these words: “Believe. Just believe.”
As the childless years have rolled on, I have undergone bouts of struggle to believe the promises of God to me, so I dearly love Hannah for encouraging me to believe a promise from the Lord. Just believe. For her belief that not only yielded Samuel but also prompted her to lend him unto the Lord, she was blessed with three sons and two daughters more! Stemming from the Hebrew name Channah, Hannah means “favor” or “grace.” In the end, she was highly favored, graced with not one child, but several. I love Hannah. Thank you, sister Hannah, for showing me how to believe, just believe.
Rebekah is a loyal wonder to me. Before he died, Father Abraham sent his trusted servant back to his country of origin to find a wife – among his kindred – for his forty-year-old son, Isaac. He found Rebekah, and she willingly went, simply saying, “I will go.” 15 The Bible says that Isaac “took Rebekah and she became his wife and he loved her.” 16 But she, too, was barren. “And Isaac intreated the Lord for his wife, because she was barren: and the Lord was intreated of him, and Rebekah his wife conceived.” 17
I love that the Lord was intreated of Isaac. Here we see the power of a prayerful mate. God willing, the faith of prayerful spouses can intreat the Lord. I love the reality of this. Pregnant with twins and wondering why it was so, the record says Rebekah “went to enquire of the Lord.” 18 Pregnant or not pregnant, the principle of inquiring of the Lord to find out “why it [is] so” is powerful. Since I did not marry until well into my thirties, Rebekah persuaded me to also inquire of the Lord concerning His will for me.
Over the single and childless years, I’ve had some sweet revelations that have helped me better understand my long-time single and childless mission. I love Rebekah for her inquiring mind, for turning to God for an answer, and for simply saying, “I will go.” Thank you, radiant Rebekah, for teaching me to turn to God for answers, for explanations, for personalized revelation.
I’m fond of Rachel, kin to Rebekah. Rachel seems to have been a little feisty, and since I happen to like feisty, I happen to like Rachel. “Jacob loved Rachel” the Bible says. This was a problem, as Rachel was the younger of Laban’s two daughters. In those days, the eldest daughter was to be married before the younger daughter. You know the story. Jacob served Laban for seven years and, in a manipulated turn of events, got Leah, so he served seven more years that “seemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had to [Rachel]” and finally got Rachel in marriage. 19 Leah, also wife to Jacob, bore children, and Rachel bore none.
Finally, in exasperation, Rachel declared to Jacob, “Give me children, or else I die.” 20 I suppose God was listening when Rachel made that proclamation, because He did require her life in childbirth. Finally, God opened Rachel’s womb, and she bore Joseph. Later, she bore another son and as her soul “was in departing,” she named the child Ben-oni, but Jacob called him Benjamin. 21
Rachel died bringing Benjamin into the world. I love Rachel for being willing to die in childbirth. Truly, a woman who righteously decides to carry a child selflessly chooses to, in the process of labor, offer the sacrifice of self should God, who knows best, require it. I love Rachel for the greatest gift of self: her own life for that of another. Thank you, Rachel, for honoring motherhood by sacrificing yourself for it. I come through the line of Joseph, and so pay deep and meaningful honor and homage to Biblical Rachel. I love you, Rachel.
If you are a striving Latter-Day Saint woman who aches for a baby…
If you wonder what God is up to in your childless life…
If you have yearned with all your heart for your own child but remain childless…
If you have prayed your face nearly off for the chance to mother an offspring…
If you have held a tiny baby recently come from heaven and longed for it to be your own…
If you have wished for little hands and feet to interrupt your comings and goings…/
If you have ached to hear an innocent one call you, in earnest tones, Mother…
If you have imagined yourself bandaging bloody knees and kissing tear-stained cheeks,
If you have ever sung a child’s lullaby while swaying back and forth, cradling an imaginary infant…
If you have ever found yourself standing in the kid’s section of the local library picking out the must haves for the children not at home…
If you have trusted and believed in God’s not yet fulfilled promises for a child…
If you are seeing that window of opportunity on earth finally close all the way tightly shut for you…
Then…
Remember and take heart that Mother Eve was called The Mother of All Living before she ever bore a child,
Wonder, with Sarah, at the sometimes wild and crazy timetable of God, but go on judging God faithful,
Believe, just believe – like Hannah – in God’s promises to you,
Like Rebekah, inquire of God to help you better understand what it all means,
and
If you never get the chance, like Rachel, to offer the sacrifice of self in childbirth, just knowing you would, from the deepest corners of your faith-filled heart, willingly descend into the valley of death and offer your life to bring about the bestowal of another life, is an enormous part of partaking in magnificent motherhood.
So, welcome mother…YOU, YES YOU…to motherhood.
- Genesis 3:20
- Sheri L. Dew, “Are We Not All Mothers?” Ensign, November 2001, 96
- Genesis 17: 11
- Genesis 11:30
- Genesis 22: 17
- Genesis 18: 11, 12
- Genesis 18: 14
- Jeffrey R. Holland, “An High Priest of Good Things to Come,” Ensign, November 1999, 36
- Hebrews 11:11
- 1 Samuel 1: 7, 10
- 1 Samuel 1: 12, 15
- 1 Samuel 1: 17
- 1 Samuel 1: 19, 20
- 1 Samuel 1: 18
- Genesis 24: 58
- Genesis 24: 67
- Genesis 25: 21
- Genesis 25: 22
- Genesis 29: 20
- Genesis 30: 1
- Genesis 35: 18
The post Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel—Good News for the Childless Women with Achy, Empty Arms first appeared on Meridian Magazine.
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