“That children yet unborn might know, and their descendants lead, to trust in God, recall God’s works, and His commandments heed.” All four of my grandparents sang these words from Psalm 78 before I was born.

Grandpa Spear led in family worship every day, made sure the family was at church each week, and rested on the Lord’s Day even when it meant a financial loss. Grandma, by selling eggs and chickens house to house, was able to earn enough to pay the taxes during the Depression in the 1930s so that they did not lose the farm. Their son, Gene, learned to work hard, but also to have fun and enjoy God’s creation.

My mom’s parents were missionaries to China and later to Native Americans. After Grandpa Adams passed into glory, Grandma Adams worked in the Kentucky Mission. My mom, Ruth, wanted to go to college so that she could learn more math—her favorite subject. Her love for math, however, was not as a tool to prepare for a lucrative profession, because her heart was set on being a missionary.

God brought Ruth Adams and Gene Spear together in college and called them to be missionaries in Japan, where I was born. My parents taught me that I was a sinner, as good parents should, but they did not need to. I have distinct memories of climbing the bamboo poles furnished for our recess play at the Japanese kindergarten I attended and pretending I didn’t know that it was time to come into the classroom. My parents also taught me that Jesus died to take the penalty for my sin, and I believed at a young age that salvation is a free gift from God.

I did wonder whether I was one of the elect. Was the Holy Spirit working in my heart? I never found an easy answer to that question, but I remember reading 1 John over and over and coming to greater assurance of salvation. I trusted in these words, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9) and “I am writing to you, little children, because your sins are forgiven for his name’s sake” (1 John 2:12).

The mission work in Japan was the work of the whole family. On Saturday, we took out the paper dividing doors that separated the three downstairs rooms, vacuumed and dusted, and set up chairs for worship. We helped my mom prepare food for the many times a week when people came to join us for a snack or a meal. Before school let out for the summer, we passed out invitations to vacation Bible school in front of the public school. Several times a year, we passed out tracts to homes in the neighborhood of our home/church. I remember running from the dogs that I sometimes encountered—they were always behind a fence, but scary anyway.

I can’t thank my parents enough for their example of putting Christ first in their lives and teaching us to share with them in the great work of spreading the gospel and the privilege of making friends with so many wonderful Japanese people. A Christian family sensed that my parents were too busy to teach me how to ride a bike, and they spent many afternoons helping me learn (I know most people learn quickly, but I didn’t). They often brought delicious food to our home, giving a much-needed break to my mom. One member of the Mukonoso congregation planned a special series of trips to castles, gardens, and restaurants in Kyoto while I was in high school, wanting me to absorb as much of Japan as I could.

God graciously answered prayer throughout my life. I asked Him to help me in school, and He did. Once when I was supposed to give a speech at school, the words wouldn’t come out. I silently asked God for help, and He answered. I asked Him to help me with scholarships for college, and He did.

However, on my own for the first time in college, I began eating compulsively. I knew this was sinful and followed all of the ways I had learned to put away sin. I confessed my sin and pleaded with God to help me resist this temptation. I avoided situations in which I had overeaten in the past. I asked other believers to hold me accountable, but I kept having to go back to them and tell them that I had sinned again. This continued for three years, and I gained 40 pounds. Thankfully, in a new situation after graduation, God freed me from this besetting sin. This experience taught me never to have confidence in my ability to resist temptation, but to know that my sanctification is only accomplished through God’s mercy.

I asked God for wisdom about whether to go to graduate school or get a job after graduation. He gave me a job at AT&T Bell Labs, where one of the benefits was graduate school tuition. Some of the classes were offered right in the building where I worked. I found out later that, after interviewing me, they had offered the job to someone else, but that he had turned it down. It was a gift from God.

God allowed me to meet David Weir, who took me out for dinner a few times. But I began having doubts when I attended a Bible study with friends from a charismatic church. They taught that one should not get married until content with the single life. I read 1 Corinthians 7 many times and concluded that I should tell David that I was not ready to begin a relationship. David wanted to know where I had heard these teachings about spending time in singleness before marriage, and he encouraged me to discuss these ideas with my pastor. I am so thankful to Bill and Gretchen Edgar and Carol Lowe for their discipleship at that time. Bill told me to read through the Bible and find all of the passages about marriage and children. Instead of just focusing on 1 Corinthians 7, I saw the many passages in the Old Testament where God commands us to “be fruitful and multiply.” God gave me the wonderful husband with whom I have shared 31 happy years so far.

David and I both worked at our jobs and studied to finish our graduate degrees in the evenings and on Saturdays. When I found out I was expecting our first baby, I asked God to help me finish my graduate degree in physics. My supervisor gave me time during work hours to write about the research we were doing together, which became a Bell Labs Technical Memorandum and also my Ph.D. thesis. I successfully defended my thesis three weeks before my daughter Janelle was born.

When I was expecting our second child, Elise, I began having bouts of bleeding. I asked God to protect her. God answered, and I gave birth to a healthy little girl on Christmas day. Two years later, I had trouble again when expecting our son Tim. God protected him as well, and I had another healthy child.

Two years later, I was expecting again and began bleeding. I asked the obstetrician if I should be on bedrest. He said that studies were inconclusive and more harm could result from staying in bed all of the time. Just to be on the safe side, I spent as much time as possible lying down. Janelle, only six at the time, became proficient in getting meals for her four-year-old sister and two-year-old brother. But one day I couldn’t find anything interesting for them to do, so we went out to the library just two blocks away to borrow some new videos. The next morning my bleeding was much worse. I could feel the baby kicking, so I knew he was alive. As contractions became stronger over the next several hours, I pleaded with God to stop them and save this tiny life, but He did not. Jonathan was born at 20 weeks gestation and lived only about one-and-a-half hours.

At first, all I could think about was why. Was it because I went to the library? Was it my fault? Every free moment I had in the next few days, I did internet searches to learn more about why people went into labor early. Then I realized that I would probably never know, and that even if I were guilty of an action that resulted in the death of my own child, Christ had paid for all of my sins. Although I had known from childhood that I had been adopted into God’s family and that God had forgiven my sins because of Christ, I had a new gratefulness to Him.

There was a long healing process from this loss. Although I had many reasons to thank God, readily confessed my sin, and praised Him, when I got to the part of my prayer time in which I made petitions to God, all that came to mind was the question, “Why didn’t you answer that prayer to save Jonathan’s life?” Other things I had been used to praying about every day seemed so insignificant compared to that prayer to which God had said no.

The habit of praying with my prayer partner, Debra Cullen, late every Lord’s Day evening over the past 25 years has been so helpful to me in so many situations. And I’m thankful to Glen and Jewel Chin and Francis Chao (from my congregation) who encourage me to keep my eyes on Christ.

Three years after Jonathan’s death, I became pregnant again. From the early weeks, I limited the time on my feet to less than 10 minutes. I brought a chair over to the sink or stove and washed dishes or cooked sitting down. David did all of the grocery shopping and laundry. At age 37 and with my history, the obstetrician ordered ultrasounds every two weeks beginning in the second trimester. All seemed well with the pregnancy. I counted down the weeks, looking up babies who had survived after being born too early and thanking God for every week as I progressed from 20 weeks to 30 weeks and on to 38 weeks. I thanked God for preserving this baby to a point where he could easily survive outside the womb.

Nine days before the due date, I began having contractions—not too intense, but coming every few minutes. David and I went to the hospital, but the nurse who examined me said the contractions were not intense enough and I should probably go home. She left the room, and, a few minutes later, blood came gushing out. The obstetrician arrived, and they rushed me into an operating room, postponing a scheduled C-section for another woman. A nurse said, “Say a Hail Mary,” as they began general anesthesia. I remember thinking, “I don’t think I have time to explain that we pray directly to God the Father,” as I went under.

When they got Isaiah out, his lungs were full of fluid and he was completely blue, but his heart had not stopped beating. They were able to suction his lungs and get him breathing. He was in the neonatal intensive care unit for a week, and on Easter morning 2004 I was able to bring home a healthy baby. While the focus of my prayer had been that this baby would not be born too early, God had been watching over me. He saved both of our lives by ensuring that I was at the hospital when the placenta separated from the wall of the uterus.

I can recount time and time again when God has cared for me and answered the prayers of my brothers and sisters in Christ. I have seen Him work in so many unexpected ways to provide a way of escape when I, or others I am close to, have been tempted to sin. He has been with this sinner, saved by grace, before I was born and through all of my life—the happy times and difficult times. I see Him consistently building His kingdom as He has promised.

As I wait in eager anticipation for the birth of my first grandchild soon, I sing Psalm 78 and pray for His blessing on the generations to come and that He would use me to spread the good news of Christ’s salvation to those who do not know Him.

Bonnie Weir is a member of Ridgefield Park, N.J., RPC.