Skip to main content

To the woman who has already had an abortion.


To the woman who has already had an abortion,

There have been a lot of posts swarming around about abortion these last two weeks. You’ve seen both sides: people who are fighting in its favor and those fighting against it.

It must be hard for you to read those posts without strong emotions welling up inside.

For the majority of the writers and readers, abortion has never been a decision they’ve needed to make or something they felt they needed to do. We all speak about our opinions and convictions and I do believe we all should, as righteousness is a good thing to speak out about…but for right now, let’s lay that all down.

I want to talk with you, not about you.

We, the writers and readers, have no idea the thoughts and feelings that have permeated your mind these last two weeks.

I don’t know what your emotion was when the process of your abortion began. Were you nervous? Were you fearful or maybe petrified? Or perhaps detached? Was anyone with you or were you alone? Was it painful? Did you flinch?

I wonder of the effect on your heart when the doctor said, “I’m all done.” Did you wince? Was there remorse? Did you feel relief? Did you want to talk about it? Or did you just want the doctor to leave immediately? 

I don’t know the thoughts you had as you stepped down off the table to put your clothes back on. Was the tile floor cold? Was there turmoil in your spirit? Or did you have feelings of nothingness? How was your heart?

I don’t know your thoughts as you drove home. Where did you go? Did you feel the need to cower behind the steering wheel? Did you want to escape? Did you tell anyone? Did you hold back any tears?

I don’t know these things about you.

What I do know is this: God has wonderful, breathtaking feelings towards you.

He wants to sit with you so He can sing over you. He wants to shield you and defend you inside His consoling grip. He wants put a shawl of strength around your burden-filled shoulders. He wants to remove your self-condemnation and exchange it for blamelessness.

You no longer have to perch under the umbrella of judgment or shame. You don’t have to feel dishonor or disgrace or embarrassment. Where you feel reproach, He can bring dignity. Where you feel pain, He can bring rejuvenation. Your heart may be filled with restlessness, anxiety, and trouble, but he can reconcile those with contentment, peace and joy.

Should you choose to run to Him, you can rest in the truth that He has forgiven you. He has taken that day, those moments, all the decisions you made and He has permanently pinned them to the cross. Those moments can be entirely erased. You can be pardoned, completely exonerated.

And your baby, her treasured soul, is with Jesus. She has no remembrance of any discomfort or sadness or fright. She has no ill will towards you, as her mom. She has no evidence at all of the ache of death in her body. She has been healed and she has been made new.

Every day, she rests in the full assurance of perfection for all eternity. She is living in a holy, impeccable paradise and she praises the Savior all day long.

And one day, should you decide to believe in the Almighty, you will be reunited with her. You will hold her, laugh with her and watch her be all that she was meant to be.

The restoration will be complete. The redemption will be finalized. The brokenness will be made whole. This reunion will be bursting of reclamation. Our King will reclaim all that you have lost.

It will be inexpressibly glorious. 

So today, there is hope. There is holiness. There is forgiveness and there is a promised place of reconciliation.

Run to him. He won’t disappoint you.

Love,
L

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Divorce and the Land of Israel

(If you are here, the very first thing I want you to read is this: Writing about a divorce can be sticky. I would never want to hurt B in any way. So, please know this post is about the divorce, not about B.)     Rejection.   In the past, I’d had friends hurt my feelings. I was dumped in college. There were jobs I wasn’t offered. There were times I wasn’t invited. But that was pretty much it. The rejection I had felt in my life was, what I would consider, typical.   When I found out B had filed for divorce, I was devastated. Normal, right? I think so. I was intensely sad and cried every day. This too, did not surprise me. In fact, during those first few months, I didn’t fight it. When the sobbing began, I would stop what I was doing so I could heave it out until that episode was over. I also expected the standard emotions that sadness brings with it; disappointment, depression, grief. I wept through each of these and these sorrowful emotions became increasingly better wit

God, and our rental home.

I was still living in the home that once held our family of five.  Rooms were now completely empty, the living room bare and our bedroom was...well...void.  B and his kids had left. I would collapse at the smallest emotional trigger, a "train-wreck" as some people commonly refer to it. I shed tears daily, sometimes hourly. The failure of my marriage felt catastrophic.  Spiritual questions loomed in my mind. Could I hear the Lord? Where was he in all of this? Wasn't he here...somewhere? It didn't feel like it. And if he was, I certainly couldn't hear him. I'd been taking steps one-at-a-time for a couple months, but on one particular day, I was told I had to find a new place to live too. I was crushed. Taking the first steps were hard, but having to leave our home, this home we'd bought together, lived in together, made memories in together...the permanence of this step was overwhelming.  I could barely think straight.  In fact, all I really knew was that I

They've been disarmed.

“Eric held him down until the police could get the gun out of his hand.” My friend, Beth, told me this story about her husband, a firefighter who helped wrestle a person to the ground during an emergency call yesterday.    This troubled man reached and successfully grabbed an officer’s gun from her belt, but was immediately subdued when four people, including Eric, pounced upon him. They restrained him until they had retrieved the gun and could carefully stand up again.    The culprit was disarmed.   Everyone was safe.   I love a story of valor.   Just a day before, I’d been reading through Colossians and came to chapter 2, verse 15, “He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, triumphing over them…”   My eyes veered back to “disarmed.” The Holy Spirit seemed to be highlighting that word in my heart, giving it an intense weight. I studied it. Originating in the late 14th century, it meant to “deprive of power to injure or terrify, render harmless.” Unable to caus