From 2010 to the beginning of 2013, our church body of less
than 200 regular attendees grew from the inside-out by 25. In just over two
years, 25 children were born into the church family. With these births came the
obligatory Sunday morning pregnancy announcements, baby showers, hospital
visits, birth announcement postcards, and the all-around celebration of
God-given life. This, of course, has been a demonstration of God’s wonderful
blessing upon our small congregation and has provided great joy as we have
watched God work in our midst. We have been reminded through this time of
blessing to heed Paul’s words to the church and “rejoice with those who rejoice.”
Throughout this time, however, there have been those within
this same body of believers who, like Paige and I, have been so far unable to
conceive. And for us, even in the midst of our rejoicing with our brothers and
sisters, it has been a time spotted with weeping moments.
(Side note: In all honesty, it’s difficult to even put this
in writing because I fear it represents a self-centeredness. But we pray to God
regularly to guard our hearts from looking at ourselves. We ask God to magnify
Himself so greatly during this time that we will not be able to fix our eyes
anywhere else but upon Him.)
While we truly love celebrating with our dear friends when God
blesses them with children, we there’s no denying the emotional burden we carry
simultaneously. And this is where the second part of Paul’s instruction comes
into effect: “Weep with those who weep.”
We have been overwhelmed by the way the saints of God have
been an encouragement to us through this period of waiting. And it seems that the
more we have shared with God’s people, the more He has strengthened us. We have
received so many carefully worded notes of encouragement, experienced tear-filled
conversations, and listened to heart-felt prayers lifted to God on our behalf. Simply
knowing that faithful children of God, our brothers and sisters in Christ, are weeping
with us as we wait for God’s blessing is a blessing of it’s own. It’s reassuring.
It’s sanctifying. It’s humbling.
I
appreciate what my friend, Pastor Nick Kennicott, wrote earlier this year in
describing a
difficult suffering in his own family:
Through the tears in my eyes,
I saw the tears in theirs. Part of the body was hurt, injured, afflicted, and
so the rest of the body was likewise burdened with the pain and shared in the
grief (1 Corinthians 12:26). Soon after we had made it known, we heard from
many other couples who have experienced the same pain, and were encouraged by
their words and actions, full of overwhelming love and support. Never had we
felt like we needed the church as much as we did in those days, and all of
God’s promises about the church proved to be gloriously true. We were the
recipients of the love of God’s people who love us because Christ first loved
them.
To that we say, “Amen!” Paige and I are so thankful for the
saints surrounding us. Those constant encouragers and diligent prayer warriors.
Those with sympathetic smiles, welcoming arms, and soft shoulders. We praise
God for a church that rejoices with the rejoicing and weeps with the weeping.
May God continue to grow us in our love for one another as we grow in our love
for Him.
~David
