St. Monica: a pillar of perpetual faith

Although St. Monica did not experience infertility, she understood what it meant to live with a patient heart, to persevere in faith, and to rely completely on God through seasons of suffering. Her life was marked by hardship, resistance and disappointment, yet she remained steadfast because she trusted that God was always at work — even when she could not yet see the fruit of her prayers.

St. Monica's faith was tested from a very young age. Her family gave her in marriage to Patricius, a pagan Roman. Together they had three children: Augustine, Navigius and Perpetua. Unlike St. Monica, Patricius did not share her kind heart or her Christian faith. He was known for his violent temper, as was his mother, making life within their home especially difficult and challenging for St. Monica.

Despite his pagan beliefs, Patricius never prevented St. Monica from practicing her faith. One of her greatest sorrows, however, was his refusal to allow their children to be baptized. At one point, when Augustine became gravely ill, Patricius agreed to his baptism. But once Augustine recovered, he withdrew his permission. Once again, St. Monica was left with nothing but prayer.

Many of us might have questioned God after such disappointments. We may even have been tempted to abandon prayer altogether. Yet St. Monica never wavered. She persevered, continued praying, and entrusted her family entirely to God. She believed deeply in the power of prayer and prayed continually for the conversion of her husband. During the final year of his life, Patricius finally accepted Christ — a moment that must have filled her heart with indescribable joy. Even his mother eventually embraced the faith, revealing that years of hidden prayer had quietly borne fruit.

Although this reflection is not about St. Augustine, his story cannot be separated from his mother's. In fact, I first came to know St. Monica through him. I began reading Confessions by St. Augustine and later discovered Confessions of X by Suzanne M. Wolfe. While neither book centers on St. Monica, both awakened my curiosity about the woman whose prayers helped shape one of Christianity's greatest saints.

Like her husband, Augustine wandered far from God. One can only imagine the tears St. Monica shed and the wounds she carried as she watched her son make choices that led him further from the Lord. Yet she never stopped loving him. She never stopped praying. Her prayers were seeds. Day after day, year after year, she watered them with faith, trusting that God would bring forth the harvest in His own time.

While pursuing Augustine, Monica encountered St. Ambrose, whose wisdom and guidance became instrumental in her son's conversion. Through St. Monica's faithful prayers, St. Ambrose's guidance, and above all God's grace, Augustine finally surrendered his life to Christ after 17 long years. Yes, 17 years… Can you imagine praying for someone every day for 17 years without knowing whether your prayers would ever be answered? St. Monica did.

She witnessed Augustine's conversion and rejoiced in the work God had begun in him. Although she died before seeing all that God would accomplish through her son, she had already fulfilled her mission. She had planted the seeds, trusted God with the harvest, and remained faithful until the very end.

Reflecting on St. Monica's life, I could not help but see pieces of my journey reflected in hers. As I struggled through miscarriage, treatments for secondary infertility, and eventually the beginning of our adoption journey, I taught the Creighton Method to women and couples longing to understand their fertility and achieve pregnancy. Not everyone knew my story. Those who did often struggled to understand how someone carrying so much heartache could continue pouring her time, knowledge and compassion into helping others receive the very gift she longed for herself. The answer was simple. I felt called to love. Like St. Monica, I could not allow my suffering to become an obstacle to loving others.

I knew the pain of infertility and I did not want others to walk through that suffering alone. So, I gave everything I had. I taught these couples, supported them and walked beside them as many welcomed children into their families. Today, I still encounter some of them by chance and nothing brings me greater joy than seeing their children growing and their families flourishing. I have not seen the outcome of every prayer. I have not witnessed every piece of fruit that grew from those seeds. But I no longer need to see the harvest to trust that God is faithfully at work.

Another part of St. Monica's story that resonates deeply with me is her unwavering faith. During my infertility journey, there were moments when God felt distant. The darkness was overwhelming and the spiritual loneliness felt unbearable. Yet deep within my heart, I believed I would become a mother. I did not know what that would look like or when it would happen, but I trusted that God had placed that desire within me for a reason. I continued praying. I continually asked others to pray for me. And I kept walking forward, trusting that the seeds I was planting would one day bear fruit. Only after my family began to grow did I recognize God's hand in the beautiful and unexpected way He brought us together.

St. Monica did not treat prayer like a magic wand. She did not pray expecting God to answer according to her own timeline. She prayed because she trusted Him. She understood that God's timing is not our timing and that His plans are infinitely greater than anything we could imagine. She did not need to see the entire story unfold to know that God was faithful.

In seasons of infertility, it is easy to feel lost. It is painful to watch others receive the gift we long for while we continue waiting, wondering and praying. Yet patience, perseverance and prayer are often the very ways God forms our souls. No, it is not easy. It can feel easier to stop hoping, easier to believe God has forgotten us, easier to give up altogether. But faith was never meant to be easy. Even Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane that the cup before Him might pass. Yet He accepted the Father's will because He trusted that the suffering before Him would lead to something infinitely greater.

Like St. Monica, we are called to pray even when heaven seems silent. We are called to persevere even when hope feels distant. We are called to trust even when we cannot yet see the harvest. I know some of you are still waiting for that gift. Others have come to the painful realization that motherhood may not come in the way you once hoped.

I see you. I hear you. I carry you in my prayers.

If there is one lesson St. Monica teaches us, it is this: no prayer offered in faith is ever wasted. Some prayers bloom quickly, others take years. Some may not blossom until eternity. But every prayer entrusted to God is heard. So do not lose hope. Continue praying, trusting, believing that God is working, even when you cannot yet see the fruit.

May we, like St. Monica, become women who never stop praying, never stop trusting, and never stop hoping. May we become pillars of perpetual faith.