What of those married couples who are unable to conceive children? What of those married couples who struggle to conceive and in that painful struggle were unable to remain married?
What of those married couples who so desired to have children and in their hour of greatest need did conceive but loss the baby?
What of those married couples who tried earnestly to have children in every ethical and moral way yet were never blessed so?
To suffer through life without children is a daily reminder that God, the Author of Life, denies you this great blessing. There is no poorer soul than the person who understands such a blessing, desires to be blessed, yet remains without child.
This poverty remains when the married person is no longer married due either to death or divorce. This poverty continues to be a source of great suffering. The no-longer-married person continues to see others who are married, widowed, or divorced relate to one another through their common bond of children.
Let me offer my own personal example. I, a widower, attend a grief support group. The table at which I sit has others like me who have lost a spouse unexpectedly. This group of men and women are a beautiful testimony of faith in their sufferings. We support and lift each other up in ways that only we understand. Yet I sit there uniquely alone because I am the only person without children. This has been the story of my married life and continues to be my story as a widower. I suffer in my poverty of not having the blessing of children.
During grief support, not a conversation happens without one of them speaking of the blessing of their children. What I hear is the blessing but I also hear, "Yes, I lost my spouse but at least I have my children."
I do not resent anyone who has children. I am happy for them because I do understand that children are a great blessing. This is why I suffer. I understand and desire, yet remain without.
I also belong to a wonderful, truly wonderful, small faith community at my church. All of them with the exception of myself and one other person have children. And to no surprise, conversations frequently center on or are redirected to the blessing of their children. I am sincerely happy for them and again feel no resentment toward any of them. Yet I sit there again suffering without children.
I work for a publishing company in which the vast majority of our products focus on children, are for families with children, school programs for children, or parish programs for all ages of children. The majority of my job has been to develop products for the benefit of children. This has been a tremendous blessing in my life. Yet this can be and has been painful. Part of me has adapted to the reality of suffering without children just so I can survive, cope, and hopefully joyfully live in the moment.
So many conversations and moments in life rightfully focus on children. My family, whom I love dearly, continues because of children. Framed photos of children are displayed in our homes, rightfully honoring the blessing of children and grandchildren. All three of my brothers are married with children. My nieces and nephews are a tremendous blessing to me and was to my wife when we were together. When we realized that God was not going to bless us with children of our own, we decided to be the best uncle and aunt we could be to our nieces and nephews. Again I love and cherish each one of them as a great blessing in my life. Yet I have not experienced the beautiful messiness of raising and caring for childen. So I have never been called, Daddy.
I have found that if I can apply my Christian faith of embracing poverty then the sting of my suffering is less painful. Yet there is only so much a Christian widower with no children can offer on the Cross of Christ. I feel like that I have literally offered up everything of my life. At some point, if everything meaningful in life is placed on the Cross, what is one left with? Lord, shall I remain crucified? Perhaps that is God's plan for me thus far. I know there is great hope and await for God to bless me. So in my poverty, I wait for my resurrection in prayer.
