An Answer for the Overwhelmed Mother

Sometimes the responsibilities of motherhood completely overwhelm me and I feel buried and distressed. Wednesday is perhaps my worst day for this. Beth goes to physical therapy for her arthritic joints every Wednesday, and she has speech twice a month, following her physical therapy session. 

Now, Paul and Mary join in for speech. The speech therapist takes both girls together, and then Paul for just ten minutes. Afterwards I'm given homework to do with all three of them, in addition to exercises to address Beth's diseased joints.

Add to this our regular school and the pressure of trying to get Peter's fine-motor delay improved enough for him to write on college-ruled paper. He's in fifth grade and still needs a 2nd grade writing tablet with wide lines and a dotted line in the middle. Occupational therapy is probably necessary, especially for cursive, but I'm trying to avoid another monthly or bi-monthly appointment at the Children's Hospital.

A disheveled house greets us upon arrival back home. This Momma can't seem to get four children and herself ready to go while also keeping up with five-minute clean-ups. The rush to prepare for church on Sunday mornings leaves our house similarly disheveled, making our return trip bittersweet.

Today, Beth, either overwhelmed or tired or just ornery, crawled under the table during speech therapy and Miss Shelly had to gently threaten to take away her sticker if she didn't finish her words. Beth is sensitive, like so many girls, and this broke her heart--that dear Miss Shelly seemed less than happy with her. Miss Shelly, whom she loves so much and usually wants to please.

Miss Shelly felt bad returning a tearful child to me, but I told her she'd done the right thing, and sensitive or not, Beth definitely requires regular discipline--as much as any 4 year old. Fortunately for me, Beth has a conscience and did finish her work, but she was too brokenhearted to accept a sticker afterwards.

May I just say, girls and boys bear little resemblance to each other when it comes to discipline? Boys, despite their rambunctiousness and incessant wrestling, are easier to discipline. Stubbornness rarely rears its ugly head, unlike with my girls.

I pray so much harder for my girls' sustained commitment to the Lord because their stubbornness frightens me. Will they submit to the Lord without question? Will their hearts remain soft as the Holy Spirit points out their transgressions? Will they display willfulness toward their husbands some day? Am I modeling headstrong behavior around here? Oh, Lord, cleanse me for the sake of my children if this be so.

On every overwhelmed Wednesday, I go to Psalms for help

Jesus did the same. Psalm 22:1-15 is widely thought to be what Christ uttered on the cross in his brokenhearted, suffering state.

My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? Why art Thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry in the daytime, but Thou answerest not; And in the night season, and am not silent. But Thou art holy, O Thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel. Our fathers trusted in Thee: They trusted, and Thou didst deliver them. They cried unto thee, and were delivered: They trusted in thee, and were not put to shame. But I am a worm, and no man; A reproach of men, and despised of the people. All they that see me laugh me to scorn: They shoot out the lip, they shake the head, [saying], Commit thyself unto the Lord; Let him deliver him: Let him rescue him, seeing he delighteth in him. But Thou art He that took me out of the womb; Thou didst make me trust [when I was] upon my mother's breasts. I was cast upon Thee from the womb; Thou art my God since my mother bare me. Be not far from me; For trouble is near; For there is none to help. Many bulls have compassed me; Strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round. They gape upon me with their mouth, [As] a ravening and a roaring lion. I am poured out like water, And all my bones are out of joint: My heart is like wax; It is melted within me. My strength is dried up like a potsherd; And my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; And Thou hast brought me into the dust of death.

Isaiah 26:3 says: Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed (anchored) on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee.

Regular readers see this next assertion often: 

Peace is a person. If we could just remember this, yes? Life will overwhelm. Entering into His presence is the answer every time.

Psalm 100 is considered the gateway to prayer.

1 Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. 
2 Serve the Lord with gladness: Come before His presence with singing. 
3 Know ye that the Lord, He is God: It is He that hath made us, and we are His; We are His people, and the sheep of His pasture.
4 Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, And into His courts with praise: Give thanks unto Him, and bless His name.
5 For the Lord is good; His lovingkindness [endureth] for ever, And His faithfulness unto all generations.

Yes, this is a perfect beginning to prayer. Know ye that the Lord, He is God. Isn't that why we pray? To remember that the Lord, he is God? That we don't have solutions, but he does? That we are not worthy, but his lovingkindness endureth forever? To remember that we are his people, the sheep of his pasture?

We can't recite this and not feel its truth and power. 

And the reward for going to the Throne of Grace, rather than wallowing in the heaviness of life?

Isaiah 26:3: Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed (anchored) on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee.

Oh, Lord, how we love you! How you sustain your sheep so lovingly. Thank you for your Holy Word, your awesome power, your everlasting love. May we enter your courts with praise and give thanks unto thee. May we bless your name!

Thank you, Heavenly Father....

~ for hot chocolate to warm my hands in this bitterly cold, below-zero wind chill.

~ for my husband's arms and understanding eyes.

~ for faith that though food prices rise before my eyes, you will provide.

~ for the help of Miss Shelly.

~ for Psalm 100, and Psalm 22, and Isaiah 26:3.

~ for the power of your Word to break down stress and restore peace.

~ for this study, which helped me find the gateway to prayer.

~ for children who do twenty-minute pick-ups on Wednesday afternoons.

A prayer request? L's mother--age about mid-thirties--fought with her father on Sunday, apparently over L's mother wanting to go on a trip with her no-good boyfriend. L ran over here to get away from it, and an hour later two police cars arrived at the grandparent's home. I don't know who called them, but perhaps the grandmother or L's mother. Shortly after, L was picked up here by her mother, in the boyfriend's car. There did not appear to be any arrests, but I don't know. We haven't seen L since and tonight is AWANA. Her mother doesn't own a car so it's up to the boyfriend to either bring L to our house on Wednesday evenings, or to the AWANA church itself, so she can continue to attend. We don't know if they will move in with the boyfriend again for good, or reconcile with L's grandparents (her mother's parents). Please pray that we'll be able to continue to disciple L? Thank you!

Purposeful Mothering Lessons

Jamie Martin, of Steady Mom and Simple Homeschool, wrote an insightful article about Marmee from Little Women.  Marmee, you probably remember now, is mom to Meg, Beth, Amy, and Jo, the March sisters.

Jamie Martin fondly remembers her childhood impressions of the March sisters, but rereading the book now, as a 36-year-old, 21st-century mother, she was most inspired and impressed by Marmee.

I loved the article.

Jamie explains 3 ways Marmee inspires:

1. Nuture by nature, seeing each child as an individual.

 2. Allow the gift of childhood, avoiding overscheduling.

3. Model the qualities we hope to cultivate.

The following is an excerpt from Jamie's article. I encourage you to go here to read her whole lovely piece

Begin Martin Excerpt:

Even as teenagers Marmee encouraged their play. There was no shuffling them out to lessons multiple times a week, no hyperscheduling involved.

How can we translate this into our modern lives? We apply it to the boundaries we develop–around screen time, extracurriculars, and our general pace as a family.

“I am angry nearly every day of my life, Jo; but I have learned not to show it; and I still hope to learn not to feel it, though it may take me another forty years to do so.”

Marmee refrained from too much lecturing. She chose her words and her timing well, and she modeled how she wanted her girls to live. Though their own family struggled financially, Marmee served her community and provided opportunities for her daughters to do the same.

She shared her flaws–confiding in impetuous Jo about her own flares of temper that she’d learned to control through discipline, help from her husband, and prayer.

To encourage their love for and study of Scripture, Marmee inspired her girls with the gift of a beautiful Bible on their pillows Christmas morning. Love, not fear, made her daughters want to follow in their mother’s footsteps.

The March household centered around the relationships within it, tight-knit bonds woven by a woman constantly checking the pulse of the atmosphere within her home. She began this culture when they were little, and her girls enjoyed it enough to keep it as they got older.

Marmee reaped exactly what she sowed, and so will we.

The question we need to ask ourselves is this: Are we planting and nurturing the seeds that will lead to the harvest we hope for?

“Touched to the heart, Mrs. March could only stretch out her arms, as if to gather children and grandchildren to herself, and say, with face and voice full of motherly love, gratitude, and humility, – ‘O, my girls, however long you may live, I never can wish you a greater happiness than this!’”

End Martin excerpt


Around here we spend a lot of time at home. The longer I parent, the more I realize the blessedness of home. Nothing is more important than cultivating relationships within our walls, and with the Lord. 

The confines of home are a gift, not a hindrance. A safe haven, not a prison. A place to become selfless, not self-indulgent. Even for the adventurer and the dreamer, the home can be a haven; boredom is a precursor to creativity.

The nuclear family fits together like pieces of a puzzle...a puzzle designed by God. We polish and sharpen each others' hearts for Him, in stunningly relevant ways.

When we run to multiple optional activities, trying to "please" all our children in the same season, we weaken the family dynamics. The more we're away from each other, the less our nuclear family strengthens us. We can't possibly fill our family members' love cups, and hold them accountable, for just a few hours a day.

It's important to relish home when we can. A time may come (dare I say will come?), such as a crises, that finds us running to the hospital often and breaking up the family frequently. It will be a stretch but our previous praying together, worshiping together, and knitting ourselves together at home will carry us through till life slows once again.

Each day has enough trouble of its own, yes? Let's relish each other at home, bonding, blessing, bracing each other for life.

When it's time for our little birds to fly away, their fondest memories will be of home. I doubt their soccer friends or their chess-club buddies, or the leotard-clad girls from gymnastics, will rank up there at all. We can make new experiences our goal, or homespun loveliness our goal, but not both.

The buddies we encounter here and there are more an avenue to shine His Light, than an avenue for entertainment or enrichment.

Like Jamie, I think this quote is a worthy ending to the sentiment of home:

“Touched to the heart, Mrs. March could only stretch out her arms, as if to gather children and grandchildren to herself, and say, with face and voice full of motherly love, gratitude, and humility, – ‘O, my girls, however long you may live, I never can wish you a greater happiness than this!’”

Something tells me our little birds are more likely to come back often, if home was the centerpiece of their growing-up years?

Forbearing one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive - Colossians 3:13

And you shall teach them to your children, talking of them when you are sitting in your house, and when you are walking by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. - Deuteronomy 11:19

Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you. - Exodus 20:12

Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. - Romans 12:10

Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. - Colossians 3:13

Listen, my sons, to a father's instruction; pay attention and gain understanding. - Proverbs 4:1

My son, keep your father's commands and do not forsake your mother's teaching. - Proverbs 6:20

A wise child accepts a parent's discipline; a mocker refuses to listen to correction. - Proverbs 13:1

Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification. - Romans 14:19

Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing. - Thessalonians 5:11

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another - and all the more as you see the Day approaching. - Hebrews 10:24-25

She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls. She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. - Proverbs 31: 15-17

verses here, image here

Multitude Monday: Claiming Christ

My Mary, a kindergartner, gained ground these last few weeks in reading fluency. In her mind life will really change into something glorious, "when she's bigger and can read."

I explained, "Why, Honey, you're already reading."

But this tedious sounding out, this dragging on of the text? It doesn't feel like reading to her. Reading is what Mommy does with a picture book or a chapter book. It's what the boys do in their easy chairs for a few hours a day, silently.

Reading is effortless. That's the view from her perspective.

So imagine her surprise when a sentence rolled off her tongue this week, fluently, for once. The words seemed familiar and the sounds mingled without effort.

She turned that determined head toward me, smiling hesitantly as though asking, "Um...what just happened there?"

It's like that with faith, too.

Our neighborhood friend L, whom I've written about since last spring, walked into our lives one balmy April day. She rode by on her bike, staring at my girls in the yard. Mary waved at her and L turned around and rode right into the driveway, introducing herself.

A few minutes later she came to the door, seeing me there, and invited herself right in, asking for a pretzel rod, and then another and another. Right away she reminded me of Pippi Longstocking. Despite myself, I fell in love with her strangely hilarious ways.

These months flew by. I admit there were times I rolled my eyes when she'd saunter into the yard. Her presence doesn't come without stress and at times I wanted to take that scripture, "Go and make disciples" and shove it.

But God is faithful and He didn't let me shove it. Now, even though her life is still in shambles, with police still coming to break up domestic violence, L's soul is awake. The Holy Spirit is there, inside her heart.

Like that fluent sentence Mary read this week, it's miraculous.

In Romans 10:17, Paul says, ‘Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ’ 

Reflecting on these many months with L--the drives to AWANA, the pretzel rods that disappeared, the whopper lies she tortured us with, the love that grew in my heart, the turmoil she survived--I'm reminded that the miraculous doesn't come without effort, just like that first fluent sentence didn't come without practice. 

Hours of it. 

We had to share the Word with L and put ourselves out there. We couldn't just sit back and expect her to notice something different about our family, and eventually ask about Jesus. 

As much as we'd like it to be that easy, it's not. We have to risk something. We have to claim Jesus.

Have you noticed that most people don't mind the word God, but Jesus incites riots in the heart? To claim Jesus comes with a price. We claimed Him when we passed Jesus Storybook Bibles around the neighborhood, and some don't come to our Children's Bible Study. A couple washed their hands of us, at least for now.

Only a remnant will believe and every soul matters to God. "Go and make disciples" is uncomfortable. It's isolating, even.

Why does any Christian do it? It isn't a requirement to get to heaven, after all.

We do it to give thanks to God. Having been filled up so graciously, to overflowing, we have something to give. 

Claiming Christ is an obedience and an act of thanksgiving, both. When God's grace floods a heart and the change radiates lovely, it feels miraculous. So go, hand out pretzel rods. Listen to those whoppers. In the end the little things we do, though brave, pale against the all-powerful, transforming work of Grace that is God's alone.

It's a mystery why we must go and make disciples when it's His grace that saves. Sometimes claiming Christ seems futile and too costly. But when the seed takes root and the fruit appears in spring, the glory of God floods the whole picture. I don't understand any of it and why one receives His grace and another walks away, remains a mystery.

Don't wait to understand it, just share in it.

Giving thanks today:

~ a husband who shares in it with me.

~ providing a safe haven for L during a fight at home, between her mother and grandfather. The grandparents have their hands full dealing with the on-going irresponsibility of their adult daughter, L's mother. Their choices are grim. Either kick their daughter out and stop enabling her dysfunction, and hope she leaves the children behind, or continue to deal with her so they can also provide a safe home for her children. They all need Christ and hopefully L's faith will break bonds of hate and dysfunction  Mental illness is there in the mix, but Christ is bigger than that; He has overcome that. Thank you for praying for L and her family!

~ my Lord to cling to and Scripture to wash me clean.

~ the furnace working well again. Another mystery of grace.

~ pumpkin pie on a bitterly cold, windy day.

~ dedicated authors who live humbly and work for next to nothing, writing transforming tales for my children and me to devour.

~ children who sleep in till 8:30 AM, most days.

~ the curriculum that comes with the Jesus Storybook Bible. I'm a hard sell when it comes to any curriculum, but this is awesome to use.

~ two precious girls to counter the testosterone around here.

~ this picture of Amy's new baby. (Amy from Raising Arrows)

Would You Rather...?

Recently we had the lovely privilege of going to the ENT to have Paul's ear wax sucked into oblivion, uncovering eardrums that actually work. My other three children find the suction tube captivating and ignore their poor brother's plight, as he lies on a bed writhing in misery.

Did I tell you? I highly suspect they lost Paul's early-December speech evaluation paperwork and don't want to admit it to me. I suspect this because the speech teacher--Beth's speech teacher--who will work with Paul, never got the paperwork and I never got the typed-up official speech diagnosis in the mail, as I had done a week after Beth's evaluation.

Instead of redoing it or admitting that it's lost under a pile of paperwork on someone's desk, the speech teacher decided to listen to Paul's conversation and decide what errors he's making so we can get started. There are two minor speech errors he knows how to correct himself with reminders, and also a challenging r problem. He substitutes a w for r and the first step is to say many r words a day while smiling. Speech teachers first get rid of the bad habits--the substitutions or improper mouth position--and next they work with the child on forming the sound correctly. If Paul smiles while he says r words, he can't possibly substitute a w.

My dear husband brainstormed a long list of r words to torture Paul with. Yes, parenting is fun that way.

I have to offer chocolate chips to get through the whole list. 20 for Paul and 80 for me. 

Just kidding.

What's really fun is that now Paul can hear! He isn't shouting or doing that piercing laugh in my ear anymore, and I bet playing the piano is much sweeter now. And when we put on the Audio Adrenaline CD (Christian band), he doesn't turn it up quite so high. The children climb the walls and enter a high-energy ecstasy when we listen to Audio Adrenalin. Last night, my husband explained why. "Honey, it's called audio adrenaline. Get it? Adrenaline that's audio?"

Oh...yeah! The lights went on.

When your oldest child turns 11 years old, music enters your life in a big way. Good thing I happen to enjoy several Audio Adrenaline songs. My husband also has Stryper and Super Tones and Petra CD's, most of which I dislike, and thankfully, several News' Boys CDs, which we all love.

But yucky wax going up a suction tube and adrenaline that's audio wasn't what I wanted to share today.

Really, it wasn't.

John Burningham is one of my favorite children's authors and his genius is what I wanted to share today.





While we sat in the waiting room at Paul's appointment, I pulled out some library books, including Would you rather... by John Burningham. Not only were my children captivated, but all the other waiting-room children and adults were too. Even the ladies working the computers enjoyed it!

An excerpt:

Would you rather...your house were surrounded by water, snow, or jungle? 

Would you rather...en elephant drank your bathwater, an eagle stole your dinner, a pig tried on your clothes, or a hippo slept in your bed?

Would you rather...be covered in jam, soaked with water, or pulled through the mud by a dog?

I don't need to tell you that most children in the room wanted to be pulled through the mud?

Think how much fun you and your children can have rewriting such a book with your own preposterous suggestions? Doing this project would cover many aspects of your curriculum--writing, art, grammar and punctuation, and maybe even a little history and science and math, if you work hard at your brainstorming.

Have fun and Happy Friday!

P. S. Would you rather...have your ear wax sucked out...listen to your tween's alternative Christian rock n' roll...or go grocery shopping with four children, two of whom are tired?

More books by Mr. Burningham:

John Burningham  source here 

born

April 27, 1936 in Farnham, Surrey, The United Kingdom

gender

male

genre

Children's Books

About this author

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Bur...

Married to Helen Oxenbury They have one son and two daughters.

John Burningham was born in 1936 in Farnham, Surrey, and attended the alternative school, Summerhill. In 1954 he spent two years travelling through Italy, Yugoslavia and Israel, working at a variety of jobs.

From 1956-1959, he studied at the Central School of Art, after which he designed posters for London Transport and the British Transport Commission. He also spent a year on an animated puppet film in the Middle East. He then became a writer and illustrator of children's books, his first book, Borka: The Adventures of a Goose With No Feathers (1963) winning the Kate Greenaway Medal in 1963, an achievement he repeated with Mr Gumpy's Outing (1970).

Since then, he has written and illustrated many children's books. He is also a freelance designer of murals, exhibitions models, magazine illustrations and advertisements.

Pink Lines: A Piece of Heaven

Note to Terra: I read your comment about Chelsea and Peter and Beth. Thank you!. I'm having trouble getting into and replying to e-mails on both my accounts, but especially on the one attached to the blog. I think these computers are just too old now.

I remember the bursting joy at the pink line. I remember the tears and the gratitude and the wonder. In my mind nothing compares, other than birth itself, to that explosion of goodness.

I remember losing Isaac at 21 weeks and the grief that swallowed me afterwards. Only Peter's pregnancy confirmed five months later saved me. Waiting those months felt like an eternity and when I finally let go of my obsessive desire and let God have his way, it happened.

Another pink line, this time welcomed with different tears. Tears that spilled gratitude and grief woven together in a tight braid of saving grace.

Yes, I lost two babies (at ages 34 and 39,) and had two surprise babies at ages 40 and 42. When Beth's pregnancy was confirmed I didn't immediately let myself bathe in the joy because at age 42, I listened to the world. I felt too old and wrinkled and everyone around me did not feel a new pregnancy was a blessing. My pregnancies were always high risk, for one thing.

But as I leaned into Him I knew and experienced the miracle and the blessing. If it were not for my husband's vasectomy I would have kept going beyond age 42, trusting Him with my family size. The more babes I had in my arms the more I knew: this is the most sanctifying existence a woman can hope for. And the more you have to stretch, the more sanctifying it is. Infertility is equally as sanctifying--perhaps even more so.

Having two babies I didn't expect did soften the wounds from two miscarriages. Not erase, but significantly soften and for that I'm forever grateful. My friend Tesha lost precious Jonathan last January 24th, at 20 weeks gestation. May I ask for prayer that God will bless them with more babies? So few hearts are willing to keep loving and sacrificing and being inconvenienced. This family has so much love to give and my heart wants many more for them, especially to soften the pain from Jonathan's passing. Of course Jonathan can never be replaced, but a sibling to receive Momma's love right now would be so beautiful and healing.  They are ready to accept God's will for their fertility; they're brave and faithful. Endometriosis has been confirmed and treatment will probably be necessary, so hope is on hold for a time.

Please pray, for this is so hard for Jonathan's Momma? No matter that she already has five children she's raising. Each loss is still felt in the depths of the soul, no matter how many children run around the house. We can't ever say, "At least you have five others" and expect that to be understood by the grieving Momma. A baby lost is hands-on-love on hold and the hurt is unspeakably deep.

One of the AWANA teachers we know, a young mom of four, is sixteen weeks along with her fifth child. To me that was the happiest of news. I expressed congratulations and joy for her. Her husband is a pastor without a pastoral job right now, though he's looking for another. He's supporting his family working at Rubbermaid and dreams linger in the air. Finances are probably tight as well, but this family? They trust Him. Their faith is grander than their bank account and the economic forecast. Grander than cold and flu season and sleepless nights with many littles. Their faith is grander than kiddy chaos and messy floors and no time to themselves. Grander than wrinkled mommy tummies and varicose veins and breasts that fall and hips that widen.

Love and embrace that new body, as you thank the Lord who graciously blessed you.

When we trust him with our family size we're confirming for the world: God is good. Whatever grief each pink-line journey brings, God is good. If Down Syndrome surprises on birth day, God is still good.

As more and more Down Syndrome babies are aborted (it's about 90%), these special children will disappear and the loss will be felt in our world. Each baby, each life, has value and something to teach and God is always good. Always wise.

Another teacher, hearing the pink-line news, said hesitantly, "And is that good news?" It wouldn't have been good news to her and she said so. She wanted to ask first before congratulating this expectant mother. That just saddened me, and I don't really know why because I know motherhood is different for everyone. I can't expect everyone to feel exceeding joy and the Lord can be served in a myriad of ways, not only through motherhood.

But when I meet a woman who gets it, I want to hug her and tell her: "Thank you for understanding God's heart as concerns babies and children. Thank you for being a vessel of faith for His will. Thank you for seeing each life as a miracle and a blessing."

Thank you for shouting to the world through the power of your womb and your loving arms: 

God is good.

Note: If anyone out there is hoping for a pink line and waiting and waiting, please ask for prayer? I will be faithful to keep asking Him for you. You can leave a comment that won't be published.

Psalm 127:3-5 Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.

Psalm 139:13-16
For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.

John 16:21 When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.

Numbers 6:24-26
The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.

Malachi 2:15

Did he not make them one, with a portion of the Spirit in their union? And what was the one God seeking? Godly offspring. So guard yourselves in your spirit, and let none of you be faithless to the wife of your youth.

3 John 1:4
I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.

Psalm 100:1-4

A Psalm for giving thanks. Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name! For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.

1 Timothy 2:15

Yet she will be saved through childbearing—if they continue in faith and love and holiness, with self-control.