
“Take courage.”
God planted this gentle command within my soul while I was attending a silent retreat with the same name in 2018 led by Jesuit Father James Kubicki. At the retreat, I learned that the root of the word courage is “cor,” meaning heart. To truly take courage, one must take heart, and, as Father Kubicki said, “(What) better heart to take than the heart of Jesus?”
Last summer, I experienced this truth in a profound way that also illustrates my answer to the question of why I’m Catholic.
My husband and I have been dealing with infertility for almost two years. One particular cycle, our hopes had been higher than usual, and the solid single line on the pregnancy test strip was completely devastating. Another big, fat negative.
“Take courage,” God whispered.
My face wet with tears, I sought encouragement by going to daily Mass and was promptly stabbed in the heart by the entrance antiphon:
“‘Let the children come to me,’ says the Lord.”
Infertility is a heavy and sometimes isolating cross. It can be especially painful in Catholic circles, where this cross is rarely acknowledged, and where we so highly value and celebrate family life. Well-meaning friends can be quick to suggest adoption or encourage us to trust God and not stress. (Hint: There may be legitimate reasons why a couple is not in a place to discern adoption, and infertility is stressful and painful, even when trusting God.)
Outside of the Catholic community, well-meaning friends tell “stories of hope” about people they know who finally welcomed their miracle baby through artificial reproductive technologies such as intrauterine insemination (IUI) or in vitro fertilization (IVF), which the Church teaches is gravely immoral. If God loves life, they say, why can’t we “get with the times” and do everything possible to make it happen?
So why be Catholic when you believe that God has the power to give you children, but won’t? Why be Catholic when the young adult groups start to look a little too young, and the moms groups and family faith formation nights inadvertently contribute to a growing sense of isolation? Why be Catholic when the Church won’t let us use artificial reproductive technology?
Why be Catholic when God let his own son be tortured and crucified?
Obviously, the Mass that morning didn’t end with the entrance antiphon. During the homily, the priest talked about suffering. Reflecting on his first, very serious bout with COVID-19, he declared, “COVID is not God’s (perfect) will, but God is bigger than COVID!”
Infertility is not God’s perfect will, but God is bigger than infertility.
Your suffering, dear reader, is not God’s perfect will, but it is not bigger than God.
Suffering with the heart of Jesus has purpose. Suffering can be redemptive. Without Jesus’ suffering, we wouldn’t be redeemed. His pain had a purpose, and he gives purpose to our pain as well, if we let him. Draw close to him. Let him encourage you through the word and the Eucharist. Take heart!
Johnston, 34, and her husband, Evan, are parishioners at St. Mary of the Lake in White Bear Lake. By day, she teaches English to multilingual elementary school students. Her personal experiences ignited her passion for women’s health care, and she is now also a certified hormone coach through the Fiat Institute. She is honored to serve other women by listening to and empowering her clients with knowledge about the beauty and dignity of the female body, as well as providing natural tools to help support their hormone health journeys. To find out more about hormone coaching with Christa, email her at info@dignityempowered.com.