Women Teaching Women

There is no question about it: the woman that is struggling with infertility is a woman in waiting . She waits for the foreshadowing symptoms of pregnancy. She waits for answers to her many medical questions. She waits for many things, but there is something beautiful in the waiting that God has designed for her; I pray that she would not miss it. Wasting the Wait “I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:13-14 Many Biblical characters were grown into great men and women of faith through their waiting experiences: Abraham, Moses, David, John the Baptist, Paul, and many others stand out as those who waited in the wilderness. If you are in your own kind of fertility wilderness, God has led you here to grow your faith in Him; that is a fact. The problem is not with God—it is with us; if we are focused on ourselves, we will

Infertility. The silent, lonely struggle. You want to know that someone else has been where you are. That someone has felt the pain, has experienced the miscarriage of hope over and over again; and yet, you also want to know that they have survived it. In looking for answers, you read articles that provoke more questions. All you want is a taste of hope, some assurance that this waiting will end someday.  My friend, it is a hard time. But I’ve come to learn that you cannot hang your hope on a someday baby. You cannot wait to live your life until you’ve added “mom” to your resumé. You cannot allow children to dethrone God within your heart. For you and for me, dear woman, there are three rock-solid truths that we can count on. No matter what else happens in life, these things will never change. 1. God is Sovereign “Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I shall return there. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21 It is not an acc

"I hate this," Mr. J complained, strapping on his red facemask and reaching for the disposable gloves. I looked to him, concerned. It is out of the ordinary for him to complain at all, at least openly. "What do you mean?" I prodded gently, not quite sure to what he was referring. "All of this," he continued irritably. "The masks, the gloves, the distancing.... This is no way for kids to have fun at camp." I understood. All the missionaries felt the same way, but in order to have camp this season we had to carefully follow all the state recommendations for social gatherings. I wasn't sure what to say in response to his sudden exclamation. "Well," I began, "at least we can have some kind of camp, even if it looks a lot different from usual." "That's true, that's true," Mr. J agreed, nodding his head. "It's just so different. I don't know how we're going to reach any of these kids at all wit