In April, I wrote about “My Personal Story With Infertility.” In that post I mentioned that we still have a frozen embryo with the infertility clinic, and are planning to transfer it to me this year to give it a chance at life. Last week I had a preliminary appointment with the doctor and I entered that office for the first time in six years.
I walked into the reception area filled with couples and took my seat. I got out my phone and occupied myself online for a good hour. I eventually looked up and noticed, for the first time that day, the anxiousness on the faces that surrounded me.
There is hardly a person in an infertility clinic who isn’t in the midst of an emotional and physical battle. Some people are fearfully awaiting a first appointment. Others are there for surgery. Some are there to find out whether all the physical, emotional and financial stress resulted in pregnancy. It is truly a place of high hopes and desperate fears.
Yet I had casually walked in, signed my name on the waiting list, found a seat and fought boredom for an hour without feeling anything. I could have been at the car wash.
Six years ago I entered that doctor’s office regularly with all the anxiety and trepidation that I just described. Virtually nothing had changed about the office – there were the same chairs, the same plants, the same framed baby “success” photos.
It was only my viewpoint that changed.
I now have three beautiful children. We wouldn’t normally be trying to have more children, but we want to give this last embryo a chance at life. If I don’t become pregnant, we still have our family.
One concrete, unchanging doctor’s office can look extraordinarily different and produce such vastly different emotions depending on your perspective.
Isn’t that how all of life is? Life may ultimately be what we “make of it,” but what we make of it depends on how we see it. Action follows perspective.
Here’s what should blow us away as Christians: Our entire worldview should be different (Romans 12:1-2). We should effectively be wearing glasses of faith through which we see and approach everything.
As Christian parents, we should be teaching our kids to put on those glasses. That kind of teaching, however, is not our first inclination. Parents are usually action-oriented. When kids encounter problems, we immediately address what they should do. How often do we address how they should view the problem from a Christian perspective? For example . . .
If your children refuse to share, do you talk to them only about rules and consequences or do you talk to them about how we need to share because God shares so much with us?
If your children are being bullied, do you talk to them only about how to react, or do you help them think through how Jesus would have them see the other person?
If you talk to your children about drugs and alcohol, do you only warn them of worldly consequences, or do you teach them what it means to see their body as a temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:19)?
We often can’t control our circumstances in life, but we can always control how we see them. When we take the time to intentionally put glasses of faith on our kids, we are giving them much more than a fleeting toolkit. We are giving them an entire worldview.
What are some examples where you’ve taught your kids to see through glasses of faith?