Just the other day, I rushed home from work to prepare two casseroles, threw some canned green beans into a bag, and packaged up the peanut butter cookies I had baked previously. When I signed up to bring dinner to a family who had just welcomed another baby, I hadn’t realized there would also be a big meeting at work scheduled for the same day.

Through good time-management, however, I was able to attend to both my work and personal commitments. It is at times like these that I realize I’m able to give in this way, in part, because of our small family size. We have fewer schedules to manage, less bodies to account for, and more time – in a sense. While I would happily trade my greater freedom for more laundry if it was due to a larger family size, I can also see the beauty in being able to serve and tend to the needs of others. I am able to put in many hours at work and also to be radically present and available to others, both inside and outside my home, in ways that I know I would not be able to do if my time and attention were being called elsewhere.

It has taken me years to get to this point, but I’m so thankful for the ways I can take part in my domestic church that then lead to hospitality efforts that spill out into my community. This certainly does not diminish the pain and grief of being unable to achieve pregnancy, but I’m thankful for the ways my family and I can serve as the hands and feet of Christ through caring for others. My casseroles, for instance, have found their way into countless MealTrains over the years, my students know they can approach me about anything, and I’m able to take part in a variety of different ministries through the communities that I have worked hard to create or oversee. 

Due to our small family size, we are a bit more flexible and have unique ways we’re able to offer hospitality. For example, due to our simpler schedule, we can often plan around our friends’ busier lives. We recognize that if we had a house full of children we might not be able to give of ourselves as freely. We have learned we are able to practice hospitality in a number of ways that are unique to us and our circumstances since we have the space/means to do so. The key is to see others’ needs and then find creative ways to meet them.

As I reflect on how I live out the domestic church within my marriage, I can see how my husband and I have taken steps into the unknown while remaining open to whatever God wills for us and for our marriage. We could have chosen to sulk in our unfulfilled yearnings of having many children and raising a large family in our home. I could have chosen to remain mired in self-pity because my dream of having a large family was unanswered.  

Or, I could instead choose to offer my whole self in gift to others as I strive to strip my heart of selfishness at the foot of the Cross. Stripping away everything allows me to encounter my pride – pride in thinking I would have made a terrific mom of many, pride in how well I get along with children, pride in entering a profession that I thought would have helped to make me be an extra-great mom. In encountering this pride, I recognize the need for humility as I strive to live out my vocation as wife and mother in a different way. There are twists and turns, sometimes leading to places in which envy and comparison reign supreme for a time. The Lord allows me many opportunities to check myself on these emotions and to avoid envy, inviting me instead to turn my eyes away from the (perceived) fortunes of others, and to challenge myself to look for  my own potential and the unique ways I can serve. Once I’m able to perceive my own jealousies and check my anger, I’m better able to let my light shine brightly in other ways. 

Through embracing pain and suffering, God is able to transform all things and make them new. I’m able to break free of chains of my own making, relinquish greed, and no longer grasp at or desire more than what I have been given – at least I am much freer than I was  eight years ago when I had my hysterectomy. Through embracing what is rather than what I perceive should have been, I find freedom. Rather than engage in apathy or wishful thinking, I strive, in union with my husband, to grow closer to Our Lord. Through this purifying process, I am cleansed and better able to serve within the domestic church my husband and I are tasked with living. As we press on in living our call as husband and wife, through the hospitality shown to one another and others, we feel the stirrings of renewal. 

Megan Reister, wife to Adam and mother of one young daughter named Charlotte, loves peanut butter and chocolate combinations, puppies, and her home state of Pennsylvania. Now an Ohio resident, she is a teacher who enjoys working at a Catholic university and helping preservice teachers become advocates for the children they will serve in their vocations. Spiritual motherhood has always had a place in Meg’s heart, and even more so as she and her husband face secondary infertility. You can read more from Meg on her personal blog.