White Pill Wednesdays: We Were Told We Couldn't Have Kids...

My wife and I struggled to conceive for three years before a doctor told us that we were extremely unlikely to do so naturally. We were advised to consider IVF, which, not knowing much about it, we did consider, but after looking into it we decided not to. And at the same time in the midst of all of this, we believed that God had - and I say this whilst looking cautiously either side for a cessationist jumping out to hit me over the head with a set of John Macarthur’s Bible commentaries - ‘spoken’ to us about us having a son, and at what time he would be conceived. I use the term spoken advisedly, not in the Biblical revelatory sense, but in a way that seemed like specific direction and encouragement for us that involved a Scripture ‘jumping off the page’, and wouldn’t you know it, that’s exactly what happened. Jack was born in October of 2018, and he looks more like me every day. Poor thing.

But that’s only the introduction to the story. You see, as far as we know, nothing changed to make us more likely to have any further children. We thought we were probably one-and-done, not by our decision but by sheer physiology. Nonetheless we rejoiced in the miracle that God had done for us, and still do. 

I recall that it was around Jack’s third birthday that he began to ask about having a sibling. We, of course, tried to explain that we weren’t sure what was possible, generally downplaying the whole issue, but assuring him that by all means that he was welcome to pray for one. And the first couple of conversations along those lines were fairly normal, brief encounters in which he just passively accepted the information without too much of a reaction the way most kids of that age do. He said ‘Ok’ when we suggested asking God for a sibling, but we weren’t exactly expecting a whole lot of follow-through.

However over the coming weeks and months, something strange began to happen with him. Rather than this simply being a couple of quick conversations about something that had got into his head, as it would have been for most passing interests of a child that age, he genuinely did start praying for it. Regularly. And not only that, but his prayers developed into sincere, heartfelt cries to God. One morning my wife walked into his room to find him in tears, and when she asked why, he said, “Because I don’t have a brother or sister.” Such a reaction would have been more understandable had we been raising the issue and toying with his emotions, but we’d very much done the opposite, playing the whole thing down and keeping any expectations at a reasonable level. So whilst we didn’t want to dampen his childlike faith, neither did I want to jump up around in the living room clad in a white suit shouting, “Your faith moves the hand of Gaawwwdd! Also, it helps if you sow a financial seed into my ministry…” 

Nonetheless, it seemed to me as his father that this was his burden of prayer, something God had placed on his heart specifically to go after, and something that, if it were to happen, his little three-year-old intercession was going to be part of bringing to pass. And wouldn’t you know it, before three months had passed, we found out that once again, by God’s grace, we were due to have another child. Jack had prayed, and God had heard.

But the story doesn’t quite end there. You see, one of the most remarkable things happened just a few weeks later. 

I’m aware that different cultures have slightly different norms regarding pregnancy, but in Northern Ireland you basically don’t tell anyone until after the 12-week scan, largely due to the challenge of telling everyone if there is an early-stage miscarriage. Perhaps you might mention it to your parents, but anyone publicizing the news more broadly is considered unusual. As such, telling young children who have the same secret-broadcasting abilities as Wikileaks, is not a great idea, and so we had not planned to tell Jack until around the same time everyone else knew. He was still praying fervently for this already-answered prayer, and we kept it completely under-wraps. 

However, after maybe three or four weeks had passed, before my wife was even showing, he was lying in bed with her on a Saturday morning. Out of the blue, with no explanation or prior warning, and without even the tiniest hint from us, he pointed to her stomach and said, “There’s a baby in there!” My wife was flustered, and said, “What? Why do you think that?” He said, “There is.” Then he shimmied himself down so his head was beside her stomach and began talking to it. “Hello baby, it’s your big brother Jack here!” 

Now just in case anyone gets carried away and starts labeling him a prophet, he did start talking about “my brother and sister” which got us somewhat suspicious that we were going to have twins, which was not the case. Thankfully after careful research we discovered that we live in the new covenant, and so stoning him to death was not necessary. However it was one of those strange supernatural moments that is hard (and probably incorrect) to label, but was certainly in our opinion something from God, and an early milestone in his walk with the Lord. 

The point of this article, and all our future White Pill Wednesday articles - which we hope to make a regular feature - is to share simple stories of what God has done. Our world is dark, but God is good, and that’s always worth remembering.