A Tribute to My Midwife: The Life and Legacy of Teresa Steen

“A woman never stops needing mothering on the journey to becoming whole and holy.

This gift of mothering is the sacred, and often hidden work, of earthly saints. My mother was among these saints, and perhaps the most loved.

For she not only mothered, she held sacred space for the transformation from maiden to mother for me, my sisters, my aunts, cousins, and thousands of women.

She shone the brightest when she was fulfilling her life’s work as midwife. She knew the fragility and beauty of suffering in childbirth and gave every ounce of her own life to the service of protecting, witnessing, and calling forth souls earth-side.

To have had a front row as witness to her calling will forever be one of my greatest treasures.”

I’m not sure I can add to the beautiful tribute that my midwife’s daughter wrote. This afternoon, we’ll gather together to celebrate her life and grieve her death.

Boy, do I have memories with Teresa. She was more than a midwife to me–she was a spiritual mother and friend. Her midwifery practice was her ministry. I’m confident that, had the Lord (and her husband!) allowed her, she wouldn’t bat an eye at the thought of delivering my grandchildren. She loved it.

I’m a very relational person, and I wanted to know and trust the person who was going to be caring for me in my most vulnerable moments of life on this earth. I would be looking to her for care, leadership, help, and the delivery of the most precious cargo. I would need her ministry for my heart just as much as for my body and baby.

There was an instant connection. She was a kindred spirit who loved the Lord and His Word, and we shared a fondness for Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth and Revive Our Hearts. We always had something to talk about, and it was always edifying.

Two years ago, a year and a half after she delivered our fifth baby, she had multiple heart attacks. As soon as I learned that she was able to have visitors at the hospital, I went to see her. How could I not go and minister to this woman who ministered to me in my most vulnerable, most difficult times of physical suffering?

Who knew that the physical suffering that she helped me through would be used of God to, in turn, bring comfort to her?

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer” (2 Corinthians 1:3-6).

When she moved over to rehab, it was when the annual Revive Our Hearts conference took place. She traveled to Indiana every year for it, and we’d talked about going together. Since it was out of the question, I asked if I could bring my computer and watch part of it with her. We sang together, learned together, and prayed together. So, though not in the way I’d expected, it was a desire fulfilled.

To know Teresa was to know a part of the Lord’s heart that He uniquely wired her to represent. She was probably the most laid-back woman I know, with one of the weightiest responsibilities I know. Her easy-going manner was an evident manifestation of her steadfast trust in the Lord. She knew her limits and she knew her limitless God.

She knew exactly when to get down to business, when to be firm (you know, in those intense moments of “I can’t!”), when to sit back and shoot the breeze, and when to gently comfort.

I vividly remember that during labor with my fourth, she was napping at the foot of my bed. My water broke, and someone had to wake her up. It was just so typical of her. I was doing fine, so she rested. She woke up and got right down to business. It was my easiest labor.

On Easter Sunday six years ago, she and her husband left their celebration and came to our house because I was 12 weeks pregnant and began spotting. She confirmed that there was no heartbeat, and comforted me with the truth of the Lord’s sovereignty.

She had a unique combination of gifts, and I experienced Paul’s words from 1 Thess. 2:7-8 through her,

“But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us” (1 Thess. 2:7-8).

One of the sweetest parts of our friendship was that it had a “pick up where we left off” aspect to it. When I was pregnant, she graced my life. But in seasons when I wasn’t, she was ministering to other women. I understood that and gladly received her back into my life when it was my turn to receive her ministry. It taught me a lot about friendship and ministry.

Teresa wanted to be with Jesus. And so, I’m confident that she’s standing alongside her sister who went before her, singing to Him, laughing, and enjoying Him.

She leaves behind quite a legacy. Every woman that she ministered to has unique gifts to offer other women. To have known Teresa is to have experienced the tender, patient heart of God that births new life through trials and suffering– without flinching at the mess of it all.

He is her treasure, realized.