Infertility: Caring for Longing Couples
"Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth!" This command, first given to Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, is known as the Creation Mandate (Genesis 1:28) and is reaffirmed after the Flood in Genesis 9:1. For Christians today, this directive still applies. Yet, we live in a fallen world marred morally and physically. Romans 8:20 21 captures this reality: "For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God."
Infertility represents a unique manifestation of creation's fallenness, a painful tension between divine command and physical limitation. Through biblical examples, practical ministry guidance, and the redemptive hope that sustains us, we can extend grace in this season of profound disappointment.
The Fall and the Infertile Body
What if your body isn't diseased? What if you're still relatively young? Are you not still subject to this curse of the fall? We tend to discuss the body's brokenness in abstract terms like disease or aging, but one instance rarely addressed in evangelical churches is infertility. Picture a couple trying to conceive for three years without success. Friends and family announce pregnancies some instantly, others after a few months, and soon they're raising toddlers. For the couple, life feels cruel, not just from the prolonged despair or miscarriages (for some) but from watching others move forward while they remain stuck. Each baby announcement or gender reveal deepens their pain, turning it bitter. They become divided: one part happy for others, the other envious and angry. Over time, the joyful part may fade, leaving only brokenness. This internal conflict mirrors the broader human condition under the fall, wanting to obey God's will yet wrestling with a body that resists it. Infertility, then, isn't just a physical ailment; it's a spiritual crucible, testing faith in God's goodness amid unanswered prayers.
How can this be? "Be fruitful and multiply" is God's command, not an option. This tension recalls the Augustine-Pelagius debate, though in a different context. Pelagius asked, "How can God be good and command something we can't fulfill?" Augustine answered, "Command what thou wilt, but grant what you command," pointing to grace. God's goodness rests not in our ability but in His provision. All of life our minds, our jobs, our fertility must be steeped in grace. For those facing infertility, this is a season to grow in grace. When squeezed, do jealousy and bitterness emerge, or love? Growth is hard, which is why we need community. Hebrews 10:25 urges us not to forsake gathering so believers can walk with us, and elders can shepherd us to rejoice and lament without bitterness. It's tough but achievable.
The Silent Grief of Infertility in Scripture
Scripture doesn't shy away from infertility's pain. Consider Sarah, who laughed at God's promise of a child in her old age (Genesis 18:12), or Hannah, who wept bitterly before the Lord (1 Samuel 1:10). These women bore the Creation Mandate's weight in a culture where fruitfulness defined worth. Yet their stories end in hope, not because they earned it, but because God intervened. Rachel, too, cried out, "Give me children, or I die!" (Genesis 30:1), her desperation raw and relatable.
These biblical accounts serve multiple purposes in understanding infertility today. First, they remind us that infertility isn't a modern anomaly; it's woven into the biblical narrative, a thread of suffering God consistently acknowledges. Second, they provide solidarity for today's couples: You're not alone in history, and God sees your struggle. Finally, they challenge the church to notice what's often ignored in our communities, creating a bridge between ancient grief and present-day pastoral care.
God's response to these women varied in timing and method, but in each case, He demonstrated intimate knowledge of their pain. He didn't dismiss their longing or rebuke their grief. Instead, He worked within their stories, sometimes through miraculous intervention, sometimes through years of waiting to accomplish His purposes while honoring their desire for children. This pattern suggests that God takes reproductive suffering seriously, seeing it not as a minor issue but as a significant aspect of human experience worthy of divine attention.
Practical Ways to Minister to Those Struggling with Infertility
If you're not struggling with infertility, whether single, delaying parenthood, or already a parent, listen carefully. Some scriptural truths, though true, are unwise to share at this moment. Saying "In the Lord's timing" or "God opens the womb" can spark doubt: "So God closed my womb? Why doesn't He want me to have children?" If these are your go-to comforts, silence may be better. Sit with the grieving couple and let your presence speak.
Second, if announcing a pregnancy, avoid doing so in a large group where the couple might feel blindsided. Tell them privately, beforehand, and gently, knowing their pain makes your joy sting. They're ultimately still people who struggle with their own personal sin, prone to react from grief, so don't tempt them to stumble.
Lastly, don't assume their sadness means they're not happy for you. Infertility splits them: one part is joyful, one bitter, both coexisting. If grief shows, it doesn't mean they reject you or your child; it's just one side surfacing. In John 11, Jesus spoke differently to Martha and Mary after Lazarus died. To Martha, He gave answers; to Mary, He wept. He knew the purpose was God's glory (John 11:4) but spared them that explanation. This tailored compassion reflects Christ's heart for the broken. He didn't quote Scripture at Mary to fix her pain; He entered it. Some need truth; others need you to sit, hold their hand, or hug them. Jesus didn't tell Mary, "God gets glory in death," though it was true. Follow His example: meet people in their pain graciously, but don't leave them there in their pain. You can point people toward Jesus without platitudes.
This approach requires wisdom and discernment. It means paying attention to the specific needs of the person in front of you rather than offering one-size-fits-all comfort. Sometimes, the infertile couple needs space to express anger or disappointment without judgment. Other times, they may need gentle reminders of God's faithfulness throughout history. The key is to listen first, then respond based on what you hear rather than what you assume they need.
Practical Steps for Friends and Family
1. Listen more than you speak
Create space for honest expression of grief
2. Avoid clichés
Even true statements can wound when timing is wrong
3. Extend private consideration
Be thoughtful about how you share your own pregnancy news
4. Recognize complexity
Understand that mixed feelings can coexist
5. Follow Christ's example
Tailor your response to the specific person's needs
A Word for Pastors
In American evangelicalism, a tradition has emerged on Mother's and Father's Day: parents stand to be honored. Pastors may mention "mothers whose children have moved away" or "mothers who've lost a child," but infertile women longing to be mothers and men aching to be fathers are often excluded. We define "parent" by a child born to term, so a woman who miscarried her only pregnancy sits while others stand. I'm not saying we shouldn't honor parents; there's much good in that, but when everyone rises, leaving the infertile seated, we burden them instead of bearing their load together.
Pastors, consider your flock. You might rethink this practice or include those struggling with infertility, perhaps affirming their longing as part of the church's story. One idea is a prayer or moment of silence for those waiting on God's promises, framing it as a communal act of hope, not pity. How you shepherd this is up to you and your elders, but don't let these hurting members feel unseen. They need tailored care, too.
This principle extends beyond Mother's and Father's Day celebrations. The language we use in sermons, prayers, and church announcements often assumes that all couples will have children or want to have children. Simple adjustments in our speech acknowledging diverse family structures and experiences can create a more caring and shepherding environment without compromising biblical teaching on family.
Pastoral Considerations
1. Review church traditions
Identify practices that may unintentionally exclude or isolate
2. Develop shepherding language
Create more welcoming church communications
3. Create specific ministry opportunities
Offer support for those navigating infertility
4. Train small group leaders
Equip them to facilitate conversations about reproductive grief
5. Consider sermon applications
Develop illustrations that don't assume parenthood as universal
The Fallen Body and the Hope of Redemption
This mandate, "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth!" from Genesis 1:28 and Genesis 9:1 remains, but our world is broken. Romans 8:20 21 shows creation's futility, awaiting freedom from corruption. Paul confirms this in 1 Corinthians 15:51 53: "Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality." Our current bodies are perishable, contrasted with the imperishable to come.
The experience of infertility points us toward this future hope in a particularly poignant way. It reminds us that our current bodies, even when young and seemingly healthy, are fundamentally broken. The inability to conceive despite desire and effort is not a moral failure or a sign of divine displeasure; it's a manifestation of the fall's wide-reaching effects. Yet in this suffering, we glimpse something of the longing that Paul describes in Romans 8:23: "We ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies."
For couples experiencing infertility, this theological framework offers both comfort and perspective. Their struggle isn't meaningless, nor is it separate from the broader Christian narrative of fall and redemption. Instead, it's a vivid illustration of how deeply we need the restoration that only Christ can bring. This doesn't minimize their pain indeed, it acknowledges its significance, but it places it within a larger story that ends not in disappointment but in the fulfillment of all God's promises.
A Word for Those Struggling with Infertility
The pain you're experiencing is real and profound. Scripture acknowledges this through the stories of women like Sarah, Rachel, and Hannah, faithful people who cried out to God in their barrenness. Their raw emotions mirror what many feel today: the deep ache of unfulfilled longing, the monthly cycle of hope and disappointment,and the complex feelings that arise when others conceive easily.
Your struggle exists in a unique theological tension. The command to "be fruitful and multiply" remains, yet your body seems unable to fulfill it. This isn't because you lack faith or because God is punishing you. Rather, it reflects the broader reality of creation groaning under the fall's weight. Your infertility isn't a personal failure but a physical manifestation of our broken world awaiting redemption.
In this painful season, remember that your identity and worth aren't determined by your ability to conceive. Though our culture often defines womanhood and manhood through parenthood, Scripture offers a richer vision. You are created in God's image, redeemed by Christ, and called to kingdom purposes that extend beyond biological reproduction. Your life has meaning and purpose even if the gift of children never comes.
Scripture welcomes honest questions and lament, the psalms are filled with cries of "How long, O Lord?" and "Why have you forgotten me?" You have permission to bring your raw emotions before God. David, Job, Jeremiah, and even Jesus himself expressed deep anguish in moments of suffering. Yet there's a crucial distinction between lamenting to God and condemning Him. Questions asked in faith, even painful ones, differ from accusations that question God's goodness or sovereignty. Be careful not to use the language of lament as a mask for unbelief or judgment against God's character.
The journey through infertility often involves difficult decisions about medical interventions, adoption, or accepting childlessness. These choices are deeply personal, and Christians may reach different conclusions while remaining faithful. Give yourself grace in this process. Seek counsel from those who understand both the medical realities and theological nuances, but know that these decisions ultimately rest between you and God.
When well-meaning friends offer trite answers or insensitive comments, remember that their words often reflect discomfort with your pain rather than theological insight. You don't need to internalize every piece of advice or explanation offered. Sometimes, the most spiritually mature response is simply to acknowledge your hurt before God without trying to explain it away.
Lean into your church community, not away from it. While the natural impulse may be to withdraw, especially from those who seem unable to understand your pain, isolation only deepens suffering. Hebrews 10:25 reminds us not to neglect meeting together, a command particularly crucial in seasons of trial. Your local church is God's design for support, accountability, and growth, even when relationships there require patience and grace. Though you may be tempted to seek understanding exclusively among those sharing your specific struggle, the diverse body of Christ offers a broader perspective and support. Allow your church family to bear this burden with you, even as you teach them how to do so effectively.
Finally, hold onto hope not necessarily for a child (though that hope may remain) but for God's redemptive work in and through your suffering. The same God who met Sarah, Rachel, and Hannah in their barrenness is with you now. Whether He eventually opens your womb, leads you to parenthood through other means, or calls you to a life without children, He promises never to leave you. Your tears are precious to Him, and nothing in your experience is wasted.
The path of infertility is not one you would have chosen, but it can become holy ground, a place where faith is tested and refined, where compassion for others grows, and where God's sustaining grace becomes more real than you ever imagined possible. May you find His presence sufficient in your deepest moments of loss, and may His love sustain you through every season of waiting.
Conclusion: Living in Grace While Waiting
How do we live faithfully in this tension? Augustine's answer to Pelagius provides guidance: God's goodness is found not in our ability to fulfill His commands perfectly but in His grace that enables and sustains us. For couples facing infertility, this means recognizing that their worth isn't determined by their ability to conceive. It means embracing the opportunity to grow in grace and dependence on God, even as they continue to hope and pray for a child.
The church plays a crucial role in this journey. By creating space for both lament and hope, by walking alongside those who suffer rather than offering quick solutions, we embody Christ's compassion. We acknowledge the real pain of infertility while pointing to the God who sees and cares. This balanced approach doesn't deny the difficulty but refuses to let despair have the final word.
Ultimately, the story of infertility within the Christian narrative is one of tension but also of hope. It reminds us that we live between the "already" of Christ's victory over sin and death and the "not yet" of creation's full restoration. In this in between space, we wait and work and pray, trusting that the God who commands fruitfulness is also the God who gives grace for each day's struggle and who promises, in the end, to make all things new.
The path through infertility is not a detour from the Christian life but a profound expression of it, a journey of faith through disappointment, a testament to God's sustaining grace in our weakest moments, and a witness to the hope that lies beyond our present suffering. May we, as the body of Christ, walk this path together with those who suffer, holding fast to the promise that what is sown in weakness will be raised in power.
