"The Book Thief"

I love a book that makes me think. Some read to escape, to learn, to be entertained, to pass the time. Whatever the reason every work has the potential to change us, to take us to a place we have never seen and make us feel like we were there; to allow us to experience something we have never gone through. Even a work of fiction can deeply affect us. The written word is so powerful. The words themselves may be forgotten, names of characters may slip our minds, but the themes of the book may impact us forever. I guess that is why it is so important to choose what we fill our minds with wisely.

I just finished reading "The Book Thief" by Markus Zusak. This book made me think. It was not a page-turner and was almost too much for my post-partum, sleep-deprived mind to read. I wanted some "light" reading to pass the time while I nursed. This book was not suspenseful, full of adventure or intrigue. It was about suffering and loss and also endurance. The story takes place in Germany during World War II. The main character is an adolescent girl who is the "book thief". The narrator is death. Sound like light reading to you?

When I finished the book, I began to introspect about suffering and loss and about the heaviness of living when one loses a loved one, specifically a child. This led me to think about what it would be like to lose one of my own children. You can see where my hormonal, post-partum mind was leading me: Down a one-way road to crying with my poor husband trying to console me over this book and its affect on me!

I first began to think about suffering in my own life and how minimal it has been compared to what many in the human race have endured. I thought about the Jews in the concentration camps and how their lives on earth were a living hell. And then if they died without knowing Jesus as their Savior . . . What hope did they have in this life and what hope did they have in death? I thought about women who just 100 years ago, had a slew of children and it was common for at least 1-2 of them to die in infancy. I have heard people comment that that is why they had so many, because some were bound to die. How callous to not realize that every child is unique and the loss of one leaves a cut deep in a mother's heart for the rest of her life. She cannot replace a child by having another one. Even a miscarriage deeply grieves a mother's soul. Though she never smelled her baby's hair or held it tenderly to her breast to nurse, she will never forget that baby. Life is so precious. I thought about what it would be like to lose one of my own children and I gazed upon the beauty of my newborn and cried. Just 10 days old and she has stolen my heart. If I were to lose her . . .

I then thought about how blessed I am. I have 7 beautiful, healthy children. I have only come close to losing one, perilously close, and it changed my life forever. If we had not almost lost her Elyse, Haven, Semaiah, and Abigail would not be here. It was almost losing a child that caused Cameron and I to realize that children are a blessing that God can give and take away. And if He chooses to take one of "ours" (are they not His?) we are still to praise Him and call Him good. I had to come to terms with that as I watched my newborn Katria fight for her life, battling bacterial meningitis at 5 days old, so tiny, premature, and helpless.

As I was thinking these thoughts, I was suddenly overwhelmed by God's goodness to me in that He gave me this precious gift in Semaiah. So many people, while I was pregnant, would tell me that they were glad it was me and not them that had so many children. This made me so sad for them. You see, with each baby, I understand more of God's grace, His goodness to me that I do not deserve. I am more in love with each baby, more in awe at the miracle of life. It does not get old; every smile, coo, and newborn baby sigh is infinitely precious to me. So why wouldn't we joyfully accept more of these blessings from Him, letting God choose when they come instead of carefully planning the timing and making jokes when we have an "oops!" baby?

Because of the suffering. Because morning sickness and pregnancy is hard. Labor and delivery is hard. Nursing is hard, sleep deprivation, training in obedience . . . it is all hard. It is a type of suffering. It is hard on our marriage when we have to work harder than our spouse and we feel that it is an injustice. It is hard on our kids when they can't do something because the baby has to nap, or mommy doesn't feel good. It is hard on us women when we receive the comments in the grocery store, when every stranger asks "Are these all yours?" meaning "Surely you must be an idiot!". It is even more difficult when well-meaning Christians make comments . . . or don't to our faces and we speculate about what they must really think of us.

However, let us think about this suffering a moment. Compared to what others have endured, is it really suffering? Our lives are so so short. One day we will be in heaven for eternity, praising our LORD forever. If I had 10 children on earth (and endured all that "suffering") and each one receives Christ as his or her Lord and Savior, there will be 10 more eternal souls in heaven praising Him! And to think that I got to participate in that! Yes, we may not have been able to go to Disney Land, have gourmet birthday parties, or wore designer clothes, but will that matter? Will I think twice about all the hours of sleep I lost on earth nursing? Will I remember the pain of pregnancy and labor? No.

Okay, I have to be honest. After I had Haven I did not want another baby. I couldn't even imagine it. I dreaded getting pregnant again. I found out I was pregnant with Semaiah on my birthday and I cried. I worried about telling people we were pregnant AGAIN and wondering what they really thought about me. But you know, God changed my heart. It had to be Him because in my flesh, I care too much what people think about me. This is the first pregnancy that I truly enjoyed every minute of it. (okay maybe not while I was throwing up! lol). All of my other pregnancies I was ready for them to come to an end. I begged for them to come to an end. This was my longest pregnancy to date, I am older--so this is supposedly harder on my body--this was #6, yet I didn't want for it to end. I came home from the hospital and saw my maternity bathing suit hanging in the bathroom, left to dry the day I went into labor, and I started to cry. To not feel the baby move inside me anymore, to not look forward with delighted anticipation to her arrival made me feel a little empty. Don't get me wrong, I would much rather have her in my arms, but I grieved the loss of that special time. God did that. I went from saying, "I never want to do that again," to "If we have another one," and "Next time . . ."

And let me talk about the suffering of labor--my postpartum, sleep-deprived brain is rambling! :) --It IS suffering, and some would say needless because there are now pain medications. Cameron and I were talking about this pain and he was saying that it is ordained by God as part of the curse. Now we believe that pain meds are God's grace, but I now realize that when you use them you may miss out on a blessing. Just as it may not be a sin to use birth control and limit family size, you may be missing out on a blessing. Yes, there are blessings IN suffering. As a result of the pain I endured in labor, I felt closer to God than ever before. I had to depend on Him. I depended on Him even before labor to produce joy in me to endure the last few weeks. I trusted Him to begin my labor without pitocin. I trusted Him to choose the perfect timing according to Cameron's paternity leave, my parent's visit, and Cameron's presentation. God was so good! He answered all of our prayers! I also felt closer and more dependent on Cameron. He helped me through the whole thing. There are things that we go through in marriage to cement our bond, our "oneness" and I can honestly say that this was one of those experiences! It was amazing. Cameron and I saw what God did, we marveled at it together, we shared this experience as one and it grew us. I now look at Semaiah and see what a treasure she is and I know that she is worth every second of that pain. I didn't have the same experience with my other labors. I was just so relieved to not be pregnant and to move on. These are blessings that resulted from my suffering and I wouldn't trade that pain for anything.

As Cameron and I talked about human suffering after I read "The Book Thief", he reminded me that without Christ our suffering is for naught. It is hopeless. But, with Christ, there is a purpose to our suffering. We can have hope that the trials we go through are not in vain. They are making us more like Christ, drawing us closer to Christ. There is a purpose in each trial, we need not complain. We have to trust that they are for our good, somehow.

"The Book Thief" also reminded me that I am so sinful that I don't deserve God's goodness. I deserve to suffer! I think we forget how wicked me are and how holy God is when we hear of suffering and see it as an injustice. I don't deserve the blessing of 7 healthy children. When so many mothers have lost their children to miscarriage, disease, hunger and war, why have I been so blessed? Why would I ever call a child a burden, even through my actions by telling God that I do not want His gift? I am so sinful, so depraved, yet God has chosen to bless me 7 times! A burden? Absolutely not. The suffering of pregnancy, childbirth and parenting? It is nothing. Nothing compared to the eternal rewards. I promise.

Yes, sometimes a book will make you think . . . sometimes it may even change your life.

In Christ, Laura