I began my Lenten pilgrimage this year reading Caryll Houselander’s Wood of the Cradle, Wood of the Cross. Originally published in 1949 under the title, The Passion of the Infant Christ, this meditative book weaves the birth of Christ in Bethlehem with His death on the Cross in Jerusalem. 

Houselander’s book offers a gentle yet powerful way of framing this season of preparation and sacrifice, as we journey through Lent. She writes about how much time and effort Mary and Joseph must’ve put into preparing their little home for Jesus’ birth: building a cradle, making blankets and clothing, storing food. 

And then those beautiful plans were turned upside down. Because even in His birth, Jesus began teaching us how to die to self. 

I found myself rereading this passage:

“We would like to give God gifts of our own choosing which, even if they are in one sense part of our life, are yet things added on for the purpose of giving, without having to pull up anything of ourself at the roots.” (Wood of the Cradle, Wood of the Cross, p.80)

How often this mindset drives our Lenten resolutions! The classic example of giving up sweets comes to mind. Are cakes and candies and cookies really what hold us back from a deeper relationship with God? Or are they something convenient to offer up while we hold other attachments more closely?

Houselander continues: “We are often surprised when, after we have offered several litanies a day and a pest of little mortifications, He chooses instead something that is really ourselves: our solitude, for example, or the sweetness of the feeling of love … it is what God chooses that kindles in the crucible and burns the flame of love.” (Wood of the Cradle, Wood of the Cross, p.80-81)

I find that a perfect summary of the path of infertility. We hold the incredibly precious grace of finding out precisely what is “ourself”–and receiving the invitation to surrender it to God. 

The very good desire for children, the longing for bodily health, the ache for feeling at home in our parish community – these are the areas where we are unexpectedly called to sacrifice. 

Just as Mary and Joseph had to abandon their humble preparations first for the census and then the flight to Egypt, we are asked to leave good and beautiful plans aside for the sake of following God’s mysterious Will.

That often feels overwhelming, and leads us to question how such sacrifices fit into a loving God’s plan. 

But Houselander gently reminds us: “Disasters are not God’s will; they are the result of sin and opposed to God’s will; but in His mercy He does allow the suffering resulting from them, although never the sin that caused them, to be caught up into His love and do good.” (Wood of the Cradle, Wood of the Cross, p.55)

I think of the illnesses often at the root of infertility diagnoses, the miscarriages of deeply longed-for children, the good news of others while we still wait. These pains are not our fault; they came into the world as a consequence of Original Sin. 

Yet they still play a role in God’s plan for salvation. In His mercy, he draws salvation out of our shattered dreams, abandoned hopes, and deepest fears.

“What matters to us is not that we suffer, or that we suffer a little or a lot, but that Christ suffers in us.” (Wood of the Cradle, Wood of the Cross, p.108). Our spiritual motherhood (and fatherhood!) begins by nurturing the Christchild within. He asks for nothing but continual surrender to Him. 

The journey to Bethlehem and the flight to Egypt were not part of Mary and Joseph’s plan. But they were part of God’s plan. If you feel yourself a reluctant participant on the pilgrimage of Lent this year, you are not alone.

When our path looks different than we imagined it, we remember that, “He sends us to where He wants to be, among those whom He wished to be among, to do that which He wishes to do in our lives.” (Wood of the Cradle, Wood of the Cross, p.145) 

This side of Heaven, we will likely never know why God has placed this particular calling on our lives. But we can trust that if we continue inviting God into the places of our suffering, He will bring us through the darkest nights into His glory. 

Riley and her husband Josh were married in 2020 and live in Virginia. She enjoys journaling, playing Scrabble, spending time in Adoration, hanging out with family, and taking care of her inordinate number of house plants.