The account of Leah and Rachel and their children in Genesis 29–30 was one of the most helpful passages for me as I wrestled not only with biblical teaching on conception, but also with the question of whether fertility technologies were a viable option for my husband and me as we struggled with our fertility. Studying these chapters helped me to think more carefully about God’s wisdom on a deeply personal issue, and it also revealed how easily our desires, good as they may be, can shape our thinking in ways that misrepresent who God is and how He works.

These chapters are not easy to read and are filled with pain, strife and jealousy. Leah and Rachel both experience deep heartache, and much of what unfolds is shaped by human weakness, cultural pressures, and misplaced priorities. Leah, Rachel and Jacob all make decisions at different moments which place these things over and above God’s design for marriage and family. Scripture does not hide this and the story is presented honestly, allowing us to feel the raw emotion and weight of their choices. Personally, it helped me to see where I was attempting to do the same thing in my own situation in which I longed to be a mother, but also in which my womb had not been opened.

As I read, I began to notice two perspectives running alongside one another: on the one hand, we see events through the eyes of Leah and Rachel, their decisions, their interpretations, and their attempts to make sense of their circumstances; on the other hand, we are shown a clearer, divine perspective, where God’s action is explicitly described to us at key moments. I believe that we are meant to recognise God’s sovereign hand in their lives and distinguish this from other moments of (understandable) human striving.

Both women, in their distress, speak about God in ways that are shaped more by desperation than by a full understanding of His character. In their longing for children and spurred on by rivalry, they turn to their servants as a means of bearing more children, something that reflects the cultural practices of the time, but it also reveals a deep desire to secure a particular outcome for themselves. The servants are the mechanism for fertility and children, in this context, risk becoming a means to an end rather than a gift received.

In their faulty thinking, their desired outcome of the birth of more children is evidence enough that they have received God’s blessing and are justified in their actions. It is a simplistic understanding of events and one that ignores the sacred design for conception that God established through the covenant of marriage in Genesis 2:24.

“Then Rachel said, “God has judged me, and…has given me a son.” (Gen 30:6)

“Leah said, “God has given me my wages because I gave my servant to my husband.” (Gen 30:18)

Running parallel to this, we are explicitly told the exact moments where God intervenes in the lives of both of the women and allows them to conceive through sexual union in marriage.

“When the LORD saw that Leah was hated, he opened her womb…” (Gen 29:31)

“And God listened to Leah, and she conceived…” (Gen 30:17)

“Then God remembered Rachel, and God listened to her and opened her womb.” (Gen 30:22)

God, in His own timing, chooses the moment that these women will be able to conceive and bear children of their own. Their use of their servants reveals a desperation to manipulate events and secure the outcome that they desired. 

We see a similar event previously in Genesis with Sarah and Hagar where the temptation to take control of circumstances forced a situation that directly went against God’s revealed word to Abraham. Scripture does not always show God preventing these choices, but it does show that human actions carry consequences, even when God, in His grace, continues to work through imperfect situations and people.

Reflecting on these passages led me to consider how they might speak into our modern context. Today, technologies such as IVF, IUI, and surrogacy offer possibilities that previous generations did not have. Children can potentially be conceived in laboratories and, in the case of IVF, can occur without the marital union of husband and wife. These technological advancements can be seen as ways of addressing real and painful struggles, and many Christians approach them with sincere faith and prayer as we ourselves did. 

But I found myself asking deeper questions regarding these technologies. If conception can be separated from the one-flesh union of marriage, what does that mean for how we understand children? Do we begin, even subtly, to shift from receiving children as gifts to pursuing them as outcomes? And how do we hold together our longing for something good with a trust in God’s sovereignty over our lives?

This is not a purely theoretical question. We deeply desired to have children, and the possibility of fertility treatments was something we considered seriously. But as I reflected on Scripture and asked the difficult questions at the hospital, I found myself challenged, not only about specific technologies, but also about what I truly believed regarding God’s role in opening and closing the womb and how all of this affected my understanding of who God is. Did I really believe that He had the best plan for my life when something that I desired so much was seemingly withheld and may never be given?

The desire for children is a good and God-given desire. Scripture affirms repeatedly that children are a blessing and a gift. Yet even good desires have boundaries, and they are not meant to override a deeper trust in God Himself. The existence of a child is not, in itself, a clear indication that every means used to bring about that outcome carries God’s approval and yet every child, regardless of how they are conceived, is of immeasurable worth before Him.

The issue of using technological fertility treatments became for us an impossibility, not just because of all the ethical layers and the movement away from marital union in conception, but it ultimately moved us away from trusting in God’s sovereign guiding of our lives. In the end I had to ask myself what I wanted more: a child that could be potentially brought into the world through our own actions or to trust God whether He gave us children or not, knowing that this would be the best plan for our lives even if it didn’t feel like it. The world is changing at a frightening pace and there will be many advancements that can and will radically change outcomes in our lives if we choose them; but are we able to truly trust God when the world offers us its solutions and answers, rather than our simply resting in child-like trust in His sovereign will?