Genesis 30:1–2 says:
“And when Rachel saw that she bare Jacob no children, Rachel envied her sister; and said unto Jacob, Give me children, or else I die. And Jacob’s anger was kindled against Rachel: and he said, Am I in God’s stead, who hath withheld from thee the fruit of the womb?”
I’ve always been struck by this passage — the tension, the desperation, the longing. Rachel loved Jacob deeply, but her love became heavy when it turned into pressure. She cried out in anguish, “Give me children, or else I die.” Jacob, frustrated and angry, responded in truth: “Am I in God’s stead?”
I can hear him saying, “Rachel, I am not God! Don’t put that kind of burden on me. Only He can open your womb.”
That moment has ministered to me in such a personal way. I remember times when I looked to my husband to heal wounds he never caused. I wanted him to love me enough to erase my childhood pain, to fix what was broken in me. But like Jacob, he was never meant to carry that weight. Healing belongs to God.
What about you, friend? How many times have you placed an impossible expectation on someone — a spouse, a parent, a friend — hoping they could give you what only God can? Maybe you’ve poured yourself into your children, your marriage, or your ministry, and it still feels barren. Maybe you’ve prayed, wept, and waited, wondering if God has forgotten you.
Rachel felt that too. She watched her sister Leah give birth over and over while she sat empty. Her name means “ewe,” a female sheep — yet she was barren. Everything about her identity felt mocked by her reality. But here’s the truth: God never forgot Rachel. The Bible says, “And God remembered Rachel, and God hearkened to her, and opened her womb” (Genesis 30:22).
He remembered her, and He will remember you.
God’s timing is not denial — it’s development. Sometimes He withholds what we long for most so He can form what we truly need inside. Rachel thought she needed a child; God knew she needed to know her value beyond what she could produce.
In my own story, God used the pain of my marriage to draw me closer to Him. It wasn’t punishment — it was purification. The Lord wanted me to understand that my worth wasn’t tied to being chosen, loved, or validated by a man. He wanted to be the one to fill the blank places in my heart.
Maybe that’s what He’s doing for you right now. Maybe He’s creating enough emptiness in your life that you’ll finally let Him fill it.
Because when God “remembers” you — it’s not that He ever forgot. It means He moves on your behalf. It means the waiting season has served its purpose, and the birthing season has come. Rachel’s tears didn’t go unseen, and neither do yours. God is about to make your sorrow sing.
Your tears have not been wasted. The pain, the waiting, the heartbreak — all of it has been preparation for promise. Just as Rachel gave birth to Joseph, the one who would later save his family from famine, what God births through you will redeem generations.
You are not forgotten. You are being remembered. And when God remembers, everything changes.
Let Him fill in the blank. Let Him heal what others couldn’t. Because when He does, you’ll no longer say, “Give me or else I die,” but rather, “God, thank You — I’ve finally learned to live.”