There’s a man I know. We’ll call him Bill. 

By the world’s standards, Bill lives an unremarkable life. He never married. He lives in a small town that most people have never heard of. For decades, he’s worked at the local grocery store. His is a small, quiet life. A life that most of us wouldn’t look twice at. 

But Bill also loves God deeply. And he eagerly shares that love with others. Fifteen years ago, he met my future husband at work. At the time, my husband was not Catholic. But the more time he spent with Bill, the more interested my husband became in the Faith. 

Five years ago, my husband entered the Church with Bill as his sponsor. And that moment has had a ripple effect that continues to this day. My husband’s cousin and one of his best friends entered the Church thanks in part to my husband’s encouragement and help. This fall, his sister and another cousin are starting RCIA. 

None of this would have happened without Bill. Now, Bill doesn’t run a ministry. He’s not raising a large family. He doesn’t even teach RCIA at the local parish. But he does take the time to be present to those God places in his life. And because of that, Bill’s love and faithfulness have yielded an amazing harvest. He’s impacted quite a few souls—probably more than any of us will ever know this side of Heaven.  

I bring up Bill’s story because I think couples struggling with infertility can draw something from it. 

Most of us have heard that God has a unique purpose for our lives. We’re inspired by reading about stories of the saints and the amazing missions they had.  St. Catherine of Siena’s mission was to bring the Pope back to Rome. St. Francis Xavier’s was to be a missionary to the Far East. St. Gianna’s was to be a doctor and mother. 

We look at them and say, “They were meant to do that.” And we want a big, bold mission of our own. For many married couples, a big part of that mission is bringing new souls into the world. But for spouses carrying the cross of infertility, our mission can seem less clear-cut or exciting. 

I certainly feel that way sometimes. My husband and I are in the midst of fertility treatments, in a prolonged state of uncertainty. Is our mission to have biological kids? Will God call us to adopt? Will we be parents at all? During this waiting, I’m tempted to feel that our marriage is “missionless.” 

But nothing could be further from the truth. 

On the inside of my wedding ring is a quote from St. Therese of Lisieux: “My vocation is to love.” The fact is, that’s the ultimate mission of all the baptized—to love God and to love the “neighbors” he puts in our lives. Those neighbors might be our spouses, children, students, patients, or clients. The way we love them might vary depending on our state in life or season of life. It might manifest itself in admirable actions that everyone sees—like bringing six children to Mass every Sunday. Or it might be known only to God, like when we pick our spouse’s clothes off the floor for the umpteenth time.

But it all matters. And all of it is part of our mission. We might not see the whole picture, but God does. And no act of love goes unnoticed. No act of love—even if it’s just you doing something kind for your spouse—is isolated. Your charity affects the whole Body of Christ for the better. 

The love that you cultivate in your marriage will radiate out to the rest of the world. Maybe, like Bill, you won’t see instant, obvious results. Maybe you’ll never receive the acclaim of the world or your peers. But when you reach Judgment Day, you’ll be amazed at the mission God had for your marriage. And you’ll praise Him for the wonders he worked through you and your spouse. 

Written by an anonymous Springs in the Desert Contributor