Covenant Stories: The Advent of Steven

Story #27 in the Covenant series

So what did you do in the 90s?

A couple in our church, Lyle and Cathy, spent the 90s trying to have a baby. They blew an entire decade doing the infertility dance. You know the infertility dance, right? First you try to relax and “let it happen”. Then you pray to Jesus, who you know could help but is often busy doing other things. After that you give all your money to doctors and do all the weird stuff they recommend. Finally, you bow to your partner and offer up your credit cards.

This dance will flat take it out of you.

None of it worked for Lyle and Cathy. For them it was one disappointment after another. Mr. Grief was the only one they could count on. He dropped by once a month to nibble at their souls when they were at their weakest. They didn’t give up; they ran out. They ran out of everything – energy, time, money. They were empty. They looked to heaven and said, “It is finished”. They fell to the dance floor and cried “Uncle”.  They tried to hold Mr. Grief at bay, but this was his hour. Denial worked pretty well, some days. Bargaining never did much for them, though some people swear by it. Anger was like heroin – a quick, powerful fix. But anger takes energy and Mr. Grief was patient. In the end, he swept onto the dance floor with a triumphant flourish, and ate them all up.

Our church wore a kind of emotional veil in those days. The light of our joy was always dimmed by their sadness. We rejoiced with every new baby, but we couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Lyle and Cathy. Cathy was strong and tried not to show her sadness when new babies came to church. She did pretty good too, but one Sunday she broke down in the parking lot. Lyle folded her into their car and mouthed “I’m sorry” to us. They hated to be a bother.

There was nothing you could say. We were walking in darkness with our friends. That’s all we could do, just walk in the darkness with them, hoping for some glimmer of light.

And then an unexpected phone call came from Yolanda, and the shock of it caused Cathy to sit down hard on the floor. Cathy had been one of Yolanda’s elementary school teachers. They were close back then and had kept in touch through the years. Yolanda was pregnant but wanted to go to college after graduation. She wasn’t ready to be a mother. Remembering her beloved teacher and knowing her story, she had a proposition for them.

“I thought maybe you guys might want to adopt my baby.”

It happened just that quickly. One moment there was nothing but darkness, and the next moment a ray of light.

We were on pins and needles at the church, hungry for every scrap of news and getting updates from Lyle and Cathy every Sunday. We were all so afraid that something bad might happen. It was absolutely the longest 9 months of my life.

And then he came – a little boy with olive skin and dark brown eyes. They named him Steven.

Everything stopped on the Sunday they brought him to church for the first time. We who had walked in darkness saw Lyle and Cathy coming down the aisle with Steven, lighting up the room with their smiles. I will never be able to describe the look in Cathy’s eyes. Sweet Jesus, how could I find the words? We passed Steven up and down the rows like a little offering plate, with Lyle and Cathy Standing at the front crying for joy. He bobbed along through the people like Moses in a basket.

That was a good day at Covenant Baptist Church.

Cathy said that God had them wait all those years because God knew Steven was going to need a family. That doesn’t fit with my ways of thinking about God, but Cathy was expressing things that are beyond language. It’s called theology, or God words, and hers make about as much sense as anybody’s, I guess. I certainly wasn’t going to argue with her.

Before long Steven was running around the church. He was, as I recall, keen on hopping, toy trucks, and Bob the Builder. He was a little shy in the early days, but that was understandable because everyone was always trying to hug him and kiss him. He ran up and down the hall of our church in his little Bob the Builder shoes. He had no idea who he was, no idea how special he was, no idea how long we had waited for him or how close he came to being someone else’s little boy. He didn’t know that he had brought Lyle and Cathy back to life and brought light into their darkness.

He may not have known it, but I can tell you that Steven meant a lot to all of us. He was our miracle child.

Years have passed now. Steven is well into elementary school. He plays the piano, is creative, and makes good grades. He’s a great kid. And over these years many children have been born into our church. I’ve committed myself to knowing all of their names. Sometimes, if we have a bunch of new ones, I have to make notes in a little black book I keep with me.

Teddy is the one with blonde hair who wears cowboy boots. Sharon is the little girl who picked her nose on the blanket that time. Billy is the one that told the story about the dog with glowing vampire eyes.

I take these notes in honor of Steven, he who was special to us, he who reminded us of what is really important at church. Because, in truth, every human child born into this world is a gift from God. And every child that comes to our church is a cause for joy. So we’ve made a deliberate attempt to be “child friendly” at our church. I’m always thrilled when I hear that a child likes coming to our church, because I think that welcoming children at church is the same thing as welcoming Jesus, who has a habit – as the scriptures say – of being present in the least of these.

Your church might meet in a cathedral that stuns the world with its beauty, but if children do not feel loved there, it is worth nothing. And your church might have 5000 members and its own television show, but if children don’t want to be there, it comes to nothing. Your church might be generous and give all of its money to feed the poor, but if you are not gentle and generous with the children on your own doorstep, it means nothing.

Steven helped teach us that.

Tagged as: church, Covenant Baptist Church, faith, The Covenant Stories