The Difficult Path of Barrenness
One Sunday at church, we were asked to turn and sing Psalm 113 in the Psalter. It is a beautiful psalm, but when we approached the end—I paused and felt my heart rush with emotions as we sang the final line:
He the barren woman takes
And a joyful mother makes.
In her home she finds reward—
Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!
Hallelujah, praise the Lord!
I had been thinking through the previous verses, but this line caught me off guard, and immediately my heart was struck with questions—Lord, if you are the one who places the barren woman in a home—Why have you not done so for me? If motherhood is a reward—Why have I not been blessed with children? You know that it is what I long for… As I struggled to sing, my mind quickly filled with these questions and other thoughts regarding dear friends, both married and unmarried, who share the same longing. In that moment, I struggled to sing, “Hallelujah!” because my heart was grieving the absence of motherhood.
In the past four years of counseling at The Owen Center, I have witnessed many moments of joy, but also numerous moments of deep sorrow. There have been countless tears shed over barrenness—with sometimes more tears at the prospects of barrenness, than the loss of a loved one. Dear friends and counselees have told me how they struggle to attend baby showers, because it is a continual reminder of their barrenness. They find it difficult to remain in lengthy conversations with parents who continually divulge and praise the activities of their children. Some have recurring dreams about having, or caring for, a child. Others find it hard to worship in church near families with little ones, because the children’s sweet sounds and cries fill them with heartache and a continual reminder of the emptiness of their own arms, hearts, and womb. All of this puts forth the question: as we walk the seeming wasteland of barrenness, is it possible to find joy? How should believers approach barrenness? What does God say about women who are barren and is there hope—a reward—for those of us who may never have a home full of the joyous laughs and cries of little children? Is there joy for a life devoid of the call to motherhood?
Scripture has a lot to say about barrenness. Recently, while rereading Job, I was struck by Job 18:19 when Bildad, one of Job’s friends, speaks of the wicked person: “He has no children or descendants among his people, no survivor where he used to live (CSB).” Earlier in Job 15, there is a similar statement made by Eliphaz to Job regarding the wicked: “He will shake off his unripe grape like the vine, and cast off his blossom like the olive tree. For the company of the godless is barren” (Job 15:33-34a, ESV). The assertion of the text, and, specifically, the friends of Job, is that the wicked are not blessed with offspring. We also know from Exodus 23:23-33 and Deuteronomy 7:12-16, that the absence of barrenness and miscarriages for the people of Israel was evidence of the Lord’s blessing upon his people, when they entered the promised land. All of which is difficult to read when one deeply desires children. After considering these passages, place yourself into the mind and heart of one struggling with barrenness. There can be a temptation in barrenness to believe that the Lord is punishing—or that he has forgotten—even though that is not the reality of those who belong to Christ. The Lord does not forget his people (Is 49:13-16). It is true that Scripture continually declares that children are a gift and a beautiful heritage from the Lord (Ps 127:3-4), however, we also know that the Lord intentionally moves towards his people who are suffering through the pain of barrenness with gentleness and love.
When looking at the whole of Scripture, it would be impossible to ignore God’s lovingkindness towards those who struggle with barrenness. Consider the Lord’s posture towards Abraham and Sarah (Gen 15; 21:1-3), Isaac and Rebekah (Gen 25:20-26), Rachel (Gen 30:22-24), Samson’s mother and father (Judges 13), Hannah (1 Sam 1-2), the Shunammite (2 Kings 4:8-17), Zechariah and Elizabeth (Luke 1:5-25). These couples and individuals all go through long and difficult seasons of barrenness and yet the Lord clearly moves toward them with lovingkindness. This is why, when Hannah is finally blessed with a son, she gives thanks to the Lord saying: “Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread, but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger. The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn.” (1 Sam 2:5, ESV). Of all the people in Hannah’s life, the only one who approaches her in a loving way, while in anguish over her barrenness, is the Lord. In each of these situations, the Lord met these individual women and married couples with gentleness and compassion—comforting them in the wake of their grief.
All of this is reassuring for those who have gone before us in Scripture, but how does God respond towards those of us who are barren today? How does he move towards us in love, kindness, and compassion? To answer these questions, we must first remember the one who understands our grief and carries our sorrows (Is 53:4), we must look to Jesus Christ. He knows what it is like to feel smitten by God and afflicted (Is 53:4) for he endured a suffering that was so horrific and agonizing for his body, mind, and heart—yet, he sustained it all, not according to the will of his own flesh (Lk 22:44), but instead obediently received the perfect will of the Father and endured the cross, out of his abiding love for us. Jesus understood that his decision to walk the barren and difficult path of anguish, pain, suffering, isolation (Jn 16:32), and grief was the only way for us to receive salvation (Is 53:5, 8-11), the only way to fully raise the poor from the dust and lift the needy from the ash heap, as Hannah sung in 1 Samuel 2:8. He endured the pain and isolation of the cross—and despised the shame—all for the joy that was set before him (Hebrews 12:2). He did it all for the joy of being able to welcome us into our eternal home with him (Jn 14:23; 1 Cor 5:1-10; Heb 11:8-16).
Going back to Psalm 113, if I had spent more time meditating upon the rest of the psalm, I would have found an answer to my grief surrounding barrenness. The psalm begins, praising the Lord, blessing the name of the Lord, declaring that from day to day the Lord’s name is to be blessed forever. The psalmist then moves into a declaration of how the Lord is high above all nations and his glory above the heavens and how he is the one who stoops down to look upon the heavens and the earth (vs. 5-6). The striking verses are verses 7-8, the very verses stated above from Hannah’s prayer: “He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes with the princes of his people.” These verses of Psalm 113, so beautifully mirror the verses of Hannah’s prayer in 1 Samuel 2:8—the prayer of a woman who was barren. It is interesting that the psalm magnifies the Lord in praise and then parallels Hannah’s prayer in 1 Samuel 2:1-10. In Psalm 113 and Hannah’s prayer, the comfort is that the Lord reigns over all the earth and that he knows and sees the painful dichotomies of the world: the rich versus the poor, the feeble versus the strong, the full versus the hungry, and the childless versus the home full of children. The Lord knows and sees all the painful incongruities of this life, and yet he still delights to draw near to the brokenhearted and save those who are crushed in spirit (Ps 34:18). As Psalm 113:5-9 states, the Lord lovingly stoops down from his heavenly dwelling to raise the poor and lift the needy, who are covered in ashes, to put them in places of honor and beauty (Is 61:3). The childless woman and the married couple are no different. The Lord sees. He knows the pain and sorrow of barrenness. Christ himself walked a barren and seemingly unfruitful path of suffering—devoid of loving community and friends (Matt 26:56)—to the cross, out of his abiding love for us. All because it was the will of the Father that through Jesus’ death and resurrection, we would become the children of God (Jn 1:11-13; Jn 11:51-53; Acts 2:38-39; Rom 8:16-17; 1 Jn 3:1-2).
Returning to questions stated earlier, as we continue to walk the apparent wilderness of barrenness, is it possible to unearth joy, and can we trust that we will have a reward—even though it may not be rooted in a physical call to motherhood? According to the word of the Lord, the answer is yes! Isaiah 54:1 reads, “Rejoice, childless one, who did not give birth; burst into song and shout, you who have not been in labor! For the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of the married woman, says the LORD” (CSB). This passage of Isaiah follows Isaiah 52 & 53, regarding the suffering servant, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. His suffering was the path for his exaltation (Phil 2:6-11), which leads into the celebration of Isaiah 54. Since Jesus Christ walked the most dark and difficult path of spiritual barrenness for the purpose of redeeming and claiming us as his spiritual children, there is much hope for those of us who are barren today. It may be that the Lord is not calling us to be physical parents, but according to Isaiah 54, it is clear that there is a call and blessing in cultivating and engaging in spiritual parenting. There are numerous children who need spiritual parents. It might be the children of your extended family, your church, your neighborhood, your community, or the world. Either way, as we engage in love with the children and families that the Lord has surrounded us with, I do believe that in time, we will grow in our ability to confidently engage and sing along with the psalmist of Psalm 113, “Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! Hallelujah, praise the Lord!” because the beautiful reward of our Lord and Savior is a home full of more children than we could ever imagine.