Hannah to Hannah

As I sit down to put this newsletter together, these two verses are repeating themselves over and over in my head. I feel strongly that they are a message that God would have me pass along to all of you. I pray that God will use them to challenge and encourage many of you this quarter. Perhaps they echo so strongly in my mind because of a conversation I had with my husband this past month. In nearly hysterical tears of total frustration, I again was struggling with God over my desire for a child. I was more upset than I have been in a long time and poor Rick didn't know what to do with such a distraught wife. One thing that he said to me upset me at the time, but continues to make an impact.

Rick told me that I need to continue to wait on God's timing. Of course I started to argue that I had been waiting…for well over four years I have been waiting! Then he told me that I had to be patient. My argument was going to be "But I have been patient!" but Rick cut me off before the words were even out of my mouth. His words were "I know that you think you have been patient. It has been a long time! But apparently God wants us to wait some more and fighting Him isn't going to change His timing."

For some reason those words that I know are true (even if I don't like them) really made a fresh impact on me this time. Yes, I do think I have been patient, Lord, but I guess You still must have more lessons for me to learn. It isn't that You aren't hearing my cries (although it sometimes feels like You aren't listening), but You do want me to continue to wait patiently upon You. You have lifted me out of this slimy pit once again, and I know that next time I slip back in, You will again be here to help me out of the mud of heartache and mire of self-pity. Thank You, Father, for being my Rock and my Strength. I am not strong enough to face these overwhelming struggles without You! Jennifer Saake, Director, Hannah's Prayer

"On Hold"

Julie Louis shares the following words from her pastor as they were preparing for their first IVF: He said, "You know, you have to realize that even though you don't feel like it, the Lord is working for you. Like when you call somewhere and they put you on hold. You get so frustrated and angry as you sit and wait and wait and wait. But the whole time you are waiting, that person is working for you. And when they come back to the line, there is your solution!"

Julie says, "It is so hard to wait and wait and wait, but each time I get frustrated, I just envision myself on the phone to God (OK, call me nuts) and He just has me on hold! When He comes back to the line, He will have my answer for me! My first answer came in June of '93 and he has truly kept me sane! Now I am on hold again, waiting for answer number 2!"

Counting our Blessings!

We are definitely counting our blessings in Hannah's Prayer this quarter and many of you have been a big part of those blessings! In our last newsletter we shared our concerns about our financial needs. We are praising the Lord for putting a burden for Hannah's Prayer on so many of your hearts. At this point we have been blessed with enough funds to completely pay all current bills, print and mail this issue of the newsletter, purchase some needed books and other materials, and even run the desperately needed reprints of several back issues! We must still be very careful with the funds that we have to use them wisely, but we are so grateful to each of you who helped lift our financial burdens this past quarter.

Another incredible blessing this quarter was a very special gift from Todd and Jonnie Harvey of North Carolina. After reading in our last newsletter that Hannah's Prayer did not have a computer, the Harveys sent us a wonderful lap top! This is a double answer to prayer. Not only does it provide HP with its own hardware, but because it is portable, I am able to use the lap top even while I am sick in bed and unable to sit up at our personal desk top computer where I have been doing most of the ministry work these past couple of years. Thank you, Lord, for working this out for Your glory!

Since this ministry began, we have been committed to not charging any membership or subscription fees for our services. God has been faithful to allow us to continue helping hurting families without requiring payment. As long as He continues to provide for our needs, we will continue to be available to help meet your needs through His strength. Hannah's Prayer is definitely still in need of continued income as we are growing at an amazing rate. The big need will be for funds to start new chapters, particularly to purchase books for local lending libraries for those new chapters. We do not have excess funds for these projects, so your continued prayerful support is appreciated. We also realize that while we have paid for this issue, we need to start saving towards next quarter's newsletter printing and mailing as well as continue meeting the demands of our internet fees, phone bills, and other regular expenses. We do want to take a moment to say "Thank you!" for all of the support, both in prayer and in finances, that has been generously given to this ministry over the past few months. May the Name of the Lord be praised!

Will Anyone Ever Call Me Mommy?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and bring me flowers in their chubby hand?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and show me castles made of sand?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and bring me pictures made in Sunday School?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and say "I love you mom, you're cool."?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and invite me to pretend tea?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and want me to kiss a scraped knee?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and ask me advice about boys?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and I'll say "Turn down that noise!"?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and turn 16 and wreck the car?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and write to me from college far?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy I'll be so proud at graduation?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and look at me with admiration?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and bring me grandkids to love and hold?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and take care of me when I'm old?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy and think about me when I'm gone?

Will anyone ever call me Mommy before it all is said and done?

Tina M.

HP On Line!

Over the past year, one of the most exciting dynamics of Hannah's Prayer has been the growth of our ministry on the internet. A year ago I was terrified of computers, reluctantly doing this newsletter on the computer but nothing else. Thanks to the foresight and encouragement of my wonderful husband, we opened an internet account last Spring and I learned to do e-mail after much coaxing from Rick. I was amazed to find that computers weren't as terrifying as I had always thought, and before long I was out "surfing the net" and excited to find all the resources that are available out there.

The HP web page started out as a very basic way to display our current newsletter. I am excited to report that we now have a large, exciting web site with multiple sub-pages, an extensive listing of infertility, pregnancy loss, and infant death resources (both on the internet and off line), an e-mail pal program, a live chat room, and several back issues of this newsletter displayed on our site. We have also developed an e-mail list for couples to receive the Hannah to Hannah newsletter and other regular messages from me through e-mail. That list currently is about 300 strong! Most of the articles in this quarter's newsletter were written by our on line members. If you have internet access and have not yet visited the HP site, please stop by! http://www.hannah.org

Baby Quest

Many, many months of hoping and waiting,

The time is just flying and sadly escaping.

I wonder, and pray when will it happen for me,

But the disappointment of another month staggers naturally.

We've done everything right and try to figure out,

Why something easy for others, is leaving us with doubt.

The temperature, the pills, the shots, and the test,

Have us wondering what will be next on our baby quest.

We dream of rattles and holding a cuddly baby,

We need to realize that this could be the month, maybe.

We sacrifice what we have to make this occur,

We know in our hearts we'd be the best parents for sure.

Darlene Boesch

Pen-Pal Connection

Lisa (age 32) & Peter (age 33) Bahrenburg have been praying for a baby for 6 ½ years. They have had 2 miscarriages and done quite a bit of treatment (Clomid, Provera, surgery 12/95 for tumors, cysts, and blocked tubes) and God has healed all known medical problems preventing pregnancy, but still no baby. Please contact them at 104 Cedar Hollow North, Fort Mills SC 29715 NC

Lori Farnsworth (listed as a pen-pal in our last issue) has moved. Her new address is 1505 S. Coachlight Dr. #7, New Berlin, WI 53151. Lori has Endometriosis and has been dealing with infertility for several years. She would love to hear from other Christians in her area.

My Child

Dear Child, my dear, dear Child.

My heart aches for you.

I never held you in my arms.

I never saw you smile.

I never nursed you or played peek-a-boo with you.

But I loved you.

You will always be my baby.

I will never forget the joy I felt in my

Heart when I first knew you were in my womb.

The months that we shared together,

Few that they were, changed me forever.

Sweet baby, my sweet, sweet Child.

I miss you so much.

You know how precious you are to me.

And when we are again one, I will hold you

Forever in loving arms and kiss you sweetly

And softly on your brow.

Sleep now, and comfort me as I sleep.

My Child, my dear sweet Child.

Laura Kittleson

Sorrows and "Samuels"

"I prayed for this child [Samuel], and the Lord granted me what I asked of Him." I Samuel 1:27

A gift was given to Hannah's Prayer by David & Leslie Snodgrass in honor of Rick and Jennifer Saake's baby, Noel Alexis. Our precious daughter was taken home to Heaven in December of 1994 due to miscarriage. Dearest David & Leslie, thank you for you love and kindness in remembering our little "Minister of Needs."

Chris and Joe Peters praise the Lord for the adoption of their son, Joseph Luke, born November 10, 1996.

In Joyful Celebration of Kristen Elizabeth Wilmot, a donation has been made to Hannah's Prayer. Kristen was born to David and Lori on October 15, 1996 after 5 years of infertility and one previous miscarriage.

In addition to our regular baby memorials and celebration announcements, we have two very special memorials writing to include in this issue. The first one is a poem written by Shelley Kay Augustin after Caden's death from pneumonia. It was submitted by his parents, Mark and Deidre, "In Loving Memory of Caden Maddox Cannon, born June 20, 1996, and received into the loving arms of Jesus on January 2, 1997. What an honor to have been allowed to hold you for those short six months and to love you through our lifetimes until we will hold you again in Heaven."

For Caden

Lord so loving, with arms open wide

Welcome home this baby, keep him close by your side.

Dress him in clothes rainbow bright

and let him play in your glorious light.

In your mansion so big and heavens so vast

May he freely roam where no shadows are cast.

In your presence may he always live

In your wisdom let him grow

Earthly pain and sorrows he never more will know.

We thank thee Lord for this child so precious

and that you chose to send him to us.

Thought his stay was just a short while

Through him you brought us many smiles.

His little laughs, coos and ahs, the twinkle in his eyes

His tiny toes and button nose, each day a new surprise.

You knew his stay would be so short

and so you gave him to

The parents who would love him most

and to your word be true.

Bless his grieving parents Lord

that they may understand

Why he had to return to you and leave this earthly land.

In you is their hope, and to you they pray

They need your strength each passing day.

So love them and hold them in your almighty arms

and protect their spirits from further harm.

Grant them peace, comfort, and love

knowing their child is with you above.

For though an empty void he has left

help us to persevere

'til we are reunited with those we love so dear.

Together at last our souls made well

In heaven with you we'll eternally dwell

For when this heaven and earth are gone

We still will praise thee, Let thy will be done.

This second memorial is a story written by the mother of stillborn twins, April Whiddon Matthews. "In Loving Memory of my Precious Angels, William Ty and Jenny Pearl Matthews, born and died January 2, 1996. You are my sunshine!":

The Waterfall

"I sat staring at my newborn twins, tears flooding my tired eyes. How perfect they were, these two tiny angels I'd just given flight to. They lay bundled in warm yellow blankets, tucked safely in my aching arms. Their eyes closed, their soft red hair brilliant against pale skin, their tiny fingers relaxed. I almost expected them to let out a wail of contradiction at any moment. 'What plans I have made for you, my daughter and my son,' I spoke in my mind. My voice was gone, hiding somewhere as to not betray my agony. Then I sighed. 'What plans I had made for you,' I corrected myself. I had planned for them to have the best of everything. In all of my power, they would never want for anything. I had promised them life . . . My twins were born into this world too soon. Too little to live. Too precious to die. I had already failed as a mother . . .

"The doctor came in to take my angels away. My contempt for her welled up inside my heart. She was to have been their savior. Did she do everything she could to save my babies? But that thought dwindled away as I realized everything I could have done differently. I admit my faith in Our Father wavered a bit. The usual questions (Why me?) and the usual accusations (How could You let this happen?). But that feeling, too, fell away as I realized everything I would do differently the next time, if in fact there was a next time:

I would not take that tiny sip of wine at dinner.

I would not get upset at my husband for petty little things.

I would not insist that I was able to lift that box out of the closet.

Maybe next time I wouldn't even get out of bed.

Maybe next time I wouldn't make any promises, because now I know we control nothing in this world.

"One day I'll be able to move on from this moment. One day I'll be able to think about my darling twins and not cry, only smile in fond memory of the way they made me feel when they were still with me. One day I'll be okay. But right now I need to cry and mourn the children Ty and Jenny will never become."

I finished reading the words I had written only weeks before, and I placed my hand over my heart, half-expecting to feel its jagged edge cutting into my flesh. The biting winter wind whipped around me as I stood on the beach bundled up against the brutal cold, my hiking boot-clad feet sinking slowly into the muddy sand. I pulled my oversized forest green parka tighter around my shivering body and crushed the tattered paper deep into my pocket as I stared out at the angry black waves crashing into one another. The thunderous roar of the Pacific Ocean echoed in my ears. The alarming blast of a foghorn jarred me out of my thoughts, and I glanced around me, wondering if I was still alone. Heavyhearted, but thankful for the solitude, I trudged my way over to a gathering of dead logs, petrified by the salt of the ocean. My feet were unsteady in the charcoal colored sand, and my ankles wobbled and throbbed from the effort. I settled down into one of the crevices of the tree trunk that was empty of sea water and watched apathetically as the broken body of a once beautiful sea gull washed up on the grimy shore. Behind me, a mountain of boulders and stones reached to the cliff that overlooked the beach. I remember thinking that if those rocks were to fall, I would be buried beneath them and no one could find me. The thought was not an unwelcome one.

The sky was dark and brooding, ready to send a rainstorm and disastrous winds at any moment, as the late afternoon sun was absent, busy warming another part of the earth. The tide was rising higher and faster, the longer I sat on my log. Doom was pending. The beach would soon be flooded, and the trees and rocks littered around me would be washed out to sea. How I longed to go with them. I watched as the gray sea foam swirled around my feet, and the icy spray of the waves showered me, urging me along. Sighing miserably, I stood and made my way back to the trail that would lead me home. The home that held nothing for me.

My husband was a good man, but he did not, could not, understand my pain. He was mourning the promise of our future as parents; I was mourning the two blessed lives that had grown and moved inside me. Vividly, I remembered their fluttering kicks that jarred me awake at night. Vividly, I remembered the patter of their heartbeats echoing around the examining room. Vividly, I remembered them . . .

As I started up the twisting, overgrown trail, a shadow appeared in front of me, and I stepped back, alarmed. I thought I was the only one who braved the beach during a Northwestern Winter.

"Honey, it's me," my husband said, stepping into full view.

Instantly I was relieved, but at the same time I felt guilty. William had expressed time and again his wishes that I not come to the beach alone. I had betrayed that plea everyday for three weeks. The cold, gray, desolate beach was the only place I could go where the atmosphere matched my emotions. It felt right to be in the midst of such sorrow and abandonment.

"I wish you would've let me come with you," he said, reaching out to brush my wind-whipped hair away from my face.

"You were napping. I hated to disturb you," I lied. In truth, I had purposefully sneaked out of the house hoping that when he awoke, my husband would think I had holed myself up in the nursery again. He seldom bothered me there.

"I know you come here everyday," he told me. "I've been right behind you, but you were too lost in your thoughts to notice."

I stared at him. He had been with me all this time, and I hadn't known? How could that be?

"In fact, you've overlooked a lot." My husband took my hand and led me back to the beach where the tide had already engulfed my log. We stood back and watched the waves grow stronger as they raged toward us. He continued on, "I know you come here because it's dark and gloomy and angry. Just like you are. You want to stay in your grief forever because you feel guilty for going into labor early. You haven't stopped to realize that none of this was your fault. You haven't stopped your tears long enough to think that maybe our son and daughter were so special that Heaven kept them for the angels. They were too pure for this world we live in."

I blinked back tears as what he was saying to me slowly sunk in. But he wasn't finished. "Have you stopped to think that you will be reunited with them one day? That they are waiting for us in Heaven?"

Then William took me by the shoulders and spun me around to face the cliff I had always known was behind me. But what I saw that day took my breath away. A cascade of bubbling white water spilled over the top of the cliff and rained down the side, dancing over jutting rocks and gliding beautifully into a tiny stream that emptied into the ocean. It was a curtain of hope on this somber beach, and I wondered how I could have missed seeing it before. "Not everyone can see the waterfall, April. It takes someone who loves you unconditionally to turn you around and say 'Look! There is some beauty left in this world."

I gazed up at my strong, loving husband and realized for the first time since I said goodbye to my twins that I was crying happy tears. I wound my arms around his neck and whispered, "Thank you."

Thank You for the Pain

It seems that pain is a part of my life... and I decide what part it will take.

As the enemy it tears me down and I want it to go away.

I let it lead me far from God into a place of sorrow...

And there I stay for many days wanting no tomorrows.

I want to cry out... "God, where are you?"

"Have you left me here to die?"

But in my heart I know who put me here.

I say... "Yes, Lord it was I"

Chorus:

Lord, help me keep my eyes on You when my way gets rough.

Help me to keep singing praises when my way is tough.

Lord, use the pain to refine me so Your image I will gain.

And yes Lord... I want to say... "Thank you for the pain".

As a friend it makes me grow and I know it has a purpose.

I let it bring me near to God for I'm told within His Word...

That before the pain reaches me it must go through my Lord.

He's the Refiner... and I'm the gold.

He uses the pain for fire.

He looks within me for His reflection

For that is His heart's desire.

Chorus

Treating your pain as a friend isn't an easy thing to try.

But Jesus' love is so complete He wants to do it for you...

Give Him this burden that you bear. Let Him, your heart renew.

Sing praises to Him... and bless the Lord.

Thank Him for making a way,

A way to be made more like my Savior.

And yes Lord... "Thank you for the pain."

Because of Jesus, Marci Blubaugh, April 1987

Jenni's Journal:

Thoughts from Hannah's Prayer Director, Jennifer Saake

I wasn't sure what focus to take with this issue of Hannah to Hannah. With Easter, Mother's Day, and Father's Day all happening in the next few months, it seemed natural to do more "holiday survival" tips, but we have done so many tips of that sort in past issues that I really wanted to do something fresh. If you are new to infertility, or this Spring is your first after a fresh loss, I know that these holidays might be very painful for you. If you have not been subscribing to this newsletter long enough to have received past newsletters and other survival tips, you are welcome to request a back issue of the Spring '96 letter where we addressed Mother's Day extensively. (That issue is also posted on the web site!)

I do not want to neglect addressing these holidays, because I know that holidays are landmarks in our grief processes. I can vividly remember getting ready for church on Easter morning a few years ago, very excited about my favorite holiday of the year, then suddenly bursting into tears and almost not going. It took me a while to realize that I was grieving because I wanted to be sharing that holiday with our child, either dressing her in an Easter bonnet and frilly dress, or dressing him in adorable shorts, bow-tie and suspenders, not just getting ready myself. Suddenly the day that had always been about the celebration of Christ's resurrection became all about the fun of Easter eggs, hunts, and cute fuzzy bunnies.

Even though Easter had never impressed me as a particularly child-oriented holiday, suddenly I was again a "wanna-be" parent sitting on the outside and looking in as all the real parents paraded their adorably dressed children around church in Easter finery. Grief is strange. It can devastate us when we are least prepared. No, I do not want to ignore the pain of these Spring holidays, especially the celebrations of parenthood in May and June that can hurt so much, but I also do not want to use this newsletter only to restate the things that we have already shared in the past. I pray that the articles and poems we have collected for this letter are a blessing and encouragement to you this quarter.

For those of you following our personal story, I am about to complete my last cycle of the birth control pills I have been taking these past 6 months for Polycystic Ovaries. I do not know anything new, but do need to make a doctor's appointment for next month to find out what our next steps will be. We are also getting ready for our second annual Hannah's Prayer Board Meeting in April. It is amazing to see what God has done with our desire to start a "small, local support group" that has now become a full fledged, non-profit corporation with contacts around the world. It absolutely amazed me to think that at Mother's Day in 1994, not even a full 3 years ago, I had thoughts of suicide. And now God has done so much in my heart personally, brought so much healing and peace, and has taken this tiny seed of faith called "Hannah's Prayer" to reach well over 600 couples with more and more people contacting us on a daily basis. Lord, I am truly awed and humbled. Thank you for using our pain to help so many.

A topic that has been on my heart much over the past few months has been the subject of bitterness. Bitterness in our infertility. Bitterness because of the death of a child. Bitterness as a reaction to pain. I have a great desire to eventually write a book on the life of Hannah and how her struggle is applicable today to couples facing infertility or loss. As I have been collecting my thoughts and starting to take notes for this project, I have been especially struck by First Samuel 1:10 that states "In bitterness of soul Hannah wept much and prayed to the Lord." In verses 15 and 16 Hannah states, "I am a woman who is deeply troubled… I was pouring out my soul to the Lord… I have been praying here out of my great anguish and grief."

That Hannah "wept much" seems such an inadequate description for the torrent of tears that have been such a part of my life through infertility and miscarriage. The book of Hebrews describes bitterness as a "root" that grows and defiles us, even causing us to miss the grace of God! When I was at my most angry and bitter stage, I felt totally neglected and abandoned by God. I was sure that if my pain was significant to Him, He would be giving me the child I ached to nurture and hold to my breast.

God knew how much I was hurting. I figured that if He really loved me, then He would not deny this natural desire that He had created within me in the first place. How could I trust a God who would play such a cruel game: Create me with an incredibly strong drive to reproduce, then not enable me to accomplish that task? My response was to put up a wall between myself and God. The result was broken fellowship and forfeiture of living within the comfort of realizing His grace.

Jeremiah knew what bitterness of the soul was. "I remember my affliction and my wanderings, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me." (Lamentations 3:19-20) The phrase "bitterness and gall" has a certain ring to it. What is gall anyway? It is a nasty greenish-yellow fluid that is secreted by the liver and stored in the gallbladder to aid in the digestion of food. It is a very bitter, acidic substance. Do you remember the horrible, burning, bitter taste in your mouth after you have vomited? That is something like gall. To hear Jeremiah describe bitterness of the soul as being equal to gall begins to paint a clearer picture of what the pain of fertility challenges can be like when we allow bitterness to begin to take root in our hearts.

Motherhood has been my life-long goal and desire. While I realize it may not be "politically correct" to aspire to be a wife and mother these days, this is my dream! While I am incredibly blessed to be able to be a wife married to a wonderful husband, the closest I have ever come to fulfilling the motherhood part is the short time I had a precious little life within my womb; a time that ended much too quickly in blood and cramps and tears. When I was in my deepest black hole of anger at God, I contemplated the "worthlessness" of my own life and I began to wonder if suicide was an option. I felt so useless in my inability to bring a new life into this world. Rachel knew this feeling of utter despair. She demanded of her husband, Jacob, "Give me children or I'll die!" He answered her in anger saying that God was the one she needed to be talking to. I have to wonder if Jacob was not angry at God as well, but just taking it out on Rachel?

Naomi surely knew bitterness of soul. She lost her husband and both sons in a foreign country. When she returned home with only one faithful daughter-in-law, Ruth, Naomi's soul was so wounded that as her friends called her "Naomi," a name that means "pleasant," she replied with "Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the LORD has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The LORD has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me." (Ruth 1:20-21) Literally translated, the Hebrew word "mara" is "bitter". The idea behind this word is marrow, or the core substance or something, thus Naomi's bitterness had penetrated through the very depths of her being. This is very similar to the word used to describe the kind of bitterness that Hannah faced as she went before God after years of pain and longing for a child. Hannah's bitterness was represented by a word that also indicates great heaviness, disconnection, and chafing.

That intense kind of bitterness was deeply rooted within my own heart for a long time. I felt incredible grief penetrate throughout my being. It left me feeling raw, chafing, weighed down and disconnected from God, my husband, my friends, and even myself. I didn't intend to let that root of bitterness grow within my spirit, but like a garden that is not weeded, a soul that is not continually refreshed and challenged by the Word of God and the work of the Holy Spirit becomes fertile ground for bitterness to grow and spread until it devours the heart in ugly scars of hurt and self-pity. For a long time, I did not even realize bitterness had taken root in my soul. Once I discovered that bitterness, it had taken root so strongly that I was not sure I wanted to give it up. I nursed my anger at God for several months, growing more miserable with each passing day.

I slowly slipped away from God. The more hurt I felt, the more I blamed God for my pain. I neglected my relationship with Him. It was a low point in my spiritual life; an irrational anger with God. All of the pain, disappointment, frustration, waiting, faith, hope, prayer, begging, pleading, doctor's visits and medication seemed worthless and God seemed very far away. One of the keys to overcoming bitterness and anger with God is to be honest with Him in your pain. There were times I felt like I was beating my head against a wall. I would keep going to God but it felt like I was praying to empty heavens. I guess I always was sure that God existed, but I really wondered if He was hearing my prayers. The lesson that God taught me was to keep turning to Him, rather than running from Him, even when I was bitter and angry.

God is a big God. He is big enough to handle your anger. He understands the bitterness of the loss of a child. Jesus Himself said, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death" (Mark 14:34) as He looked toward the cross and his own separation from His Father. God certainly understands when our hearts are broken and our souls are bitter! Tell Him that you are hurting. He already knows your pain and is waiting for you to let Him share it. I do have one word of caution as you ask God to help you overcome the stumbling blocks of bitterness and anger in your spiritual walk. Do not become discouraged when you go to God and are not immediately "all better" from your anger, bitterness, and pain. Remember, it has been a long process that has brought you to this point. God may choose to immediately lift your burden and free you from all traces of bitterness, but often God takes time to gradually free His children from the ugly grasp of bitterness and the snarled fingers of anger. The pruning might seem even more painful than letting the bitterness remain rooted, but God is a Master Gardener and desires to help you bloom into the beautiful person He created you to be.

You may not feel God's presence at the moment, but He is there. He has been with you through every part of your pain and He longs to forgive you for your anger, to soothe away your bitterness, and to comfort you as you would long to comfort your own child for whom you grieve. We are free to weep with Hannah in our pain, but we must remember to do that bitter weeping before the Lord and to continually seek Him in prayer lest bitterness take root and prevent us from experiencing God's grace. I cannot tell you some magic formula for getting through this pain and heartache. It is not easy. It is hard to face a bitter soul and deal with the issues. Give yourself some time to grieve. Keep trying to pray, even if your only prayers are yelled at God in total anger and disillusionment. He knows how much you are hurting, so be honest with Him about how abandoned you feel. But please keep taking your pain to God. He cannot help you if you run away.

Jenni

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Hannah's Prayer Ministries
www.hannah.org
PO Box 168
Hanford, California 93232-0168
USA

E-Mail: Hannahs@Hannah.org

Voice Mail / Fax: (775)852-9202

Hannah's Prayer is a California based, non-profit 501(c)(3) organization, established Jan 1, 1995. All staff members are unpaid volunteers who are proclaiming Christians (from a range of denominational backgrounds) and have personal experience with the heartache of fertility challenges. This ministry and website are made possible by your tax deductible contributions.

This web site was established in April, 1996. For website related issues, please contact the Hannah's Prayer website administrator, Jill Sherbrooke. The Hannah's Prayer logo was designed exclusively for Hannah's Prayer by Rick Saake. Hannah's Prayer pages are Copyrighted. � 1996-2004, Hannah's Prayer Ministries. All rights reserved.