Joy should fill the heart of every new mother, but when I gave birth to my fourth child, a little girl, I was not overjoyed. Don’t get me wrong; I loved my little girl very much. I asked God specifically for her, that she would be healthy and strong. That she would love people and help those in need. I asked that she’d have blue eyes (my husband and I both have brown), and dark hair, and today she is exactly what I prayed for. She is a most loving and compassionate person, and she does help people in need. And she loves the Lord! I am so proud of her.
I was sad and tearful, a lot. Sometimes I was even annoyed by this sweet little baby. I could not understand what was happening to me. I decided it was because I wasn’t getting enough outside stimulation with other adults. At church one Sunday we had a guest speaker from a local crisis pregnancy center. She was looking for volunteers to do counseling. I thought to myself, “This is something I could be good at considering my experiences”. So I signed up to go through the training classes. I had no idea the profound impact this decision would have on my life.
The idea of the Crisis Pregnancy Center was not to take a political or religious stance against abortion, but rather to educate women about what abortion is and how it impacts ones life, and to provide resources to make other choices possible. Those involved wanted to give women in trouble the chance to make an honest decision based on all the facts. They also wanted to be there when reality would sink in and many of these women, months or maybe years later, would have to deal with the guilt and shame that would attempt to ruin their lives. If you remember, I had an abortion, I was not a part the actual decision-making process; other people (out of the goodness of their hearts) made the decision for me. However, deep in the recesses of my mind was the knowledge of what occurred that day some ten years earlier.
I was excited about the opportunity to serve the Lord. I was fully prepared to give it my all. When I arrived for the first class, I found the ladies happily sharing tidbits about their day, sipping coffee and nibbling cookies. The lights dimmed. We were told we would be viewing a rather graphic film documenting what takes place during an actual abortion. The film was called “ The Silent Scream”. A doctor who performed abortions filmed one of the procedures he had done. After doing so he decided he could no longer perform abortions as a form of birth control.
Horror filled my being! The only thing I could think to say was, “I am not a bad person.” There are just not words to express the way I felt about myself. The tears welled up from deep within and streamed endlessly down my cheeks. I wasn’t hysterical. It was like years of tears fell, silently, all at once. Everyone was very understanding and tried to be comforting.
There was no comfort.
“I had done this thing”, was the thought that ran through my mind. I had allowed a life to be taken. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I had deliberately escaped as I had done so many times in my life when things were more then I could handle. I could have spoken up. I was seventeen. I wasn’t stupid or naïve. I didn’t know if I could carry another child to term and then give it away as I had done before. As I tried to work all this out, one thing was for sure, I didn’t want to go through that experience again.
I drove home but could not remember how I ended up in the driveway. The kids were in bed. I paid the sitter and sat in the dark for a long time. A few days went by like this, and then there was a knock at the door. A lady, I think she was from the volunteer group, was there with a bouquet of flowers. Sadly, I don’t remember her name. She had a sweet smile and understanding eyes. She told me that one should always send flowers when there has been a death in the family. I don’t remember all we talked about. She told me about a cemetery that was in a neighboring city that had a gravesite in memory of the “Unborn” and if I would like, she would drive me there so I could have closure. We stood together at the gravesite and wept and prayed for forgiveness. It was then that she shared with me that when I would get to heaven Jesus would place my little one in my arms and I would have an eternity to raise my child. I accepted the forgiveness that God gave me that day, and I was filled with hope at the possibility of seeing my little one. What an awesome thought!
2 Corinthians 1:3-5: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.” (NIV)
In whatever your situation, be comforted today in Christ. Blessings.