In November 2010, I found myself in the ER from a massive spasm radiating over my left lower ribs and into my left back. The spasms were more painful than giving natural childbirth to my son. (I had been given an epidural with my twin daughters and felt cheated. I wanted to know what giving birth was supposed to feel like.)
In the ER I was not given any answers and was met with anger and frustration as I grabbed the doctor’s hand and pressed it hard against my ribs asking desperately, “what is that?!?!” I was given an antispasmodic shot in my right thigh and sent home. That was it.
My children were now 9, 9, and 6. I started cleaning out drawers and preparing for my imminent death. I had been losing weight and was unable to digest my food for the previous six months.
Not long after the ER visit, I was talking with a pastor’s wife that I knew at a holiday gathering. She asked about my health. I shared some details and then stated that it just didn’t make any sense. If I was just going to die and my children were going to be without their mom, then what was the point in me even being born? I said that there just had to be more to all of this.
She timidly said, “I think you know what I’d say.” She was right. I had never wanted to hear before and she had backed off talking about it. I know now that I was goading her to tell me what Yeshua needed me to hear.
She then said, “You can ask for forgiveness.” Aha! I had her. I retorted with, “What if the person is dead?!”, thinking I’d already trumped her nonsense that may come next. She spoke something that stirred me so deeply inside, I thought in a very negative way at the time. She said, “God will forgive you.”
Now I really had her! I reviled this god from a place inside that I didn’t know existed. I pulled her into an empty corner and blurted out, “I had an abortion when I was 18!”
She repeated that God would forgive me. I was livid. I had spent the past twenty years burying it, hiding it, and punishing myself rightfully for MY act of murder. What right did her God have over MY wrong?! It was completely absurd. Here I was asking her for help, as a dying woman, and the best she can offer is, “God will forgive you.” He had no place in it anyway, whoever HE was. It was ALL my doing!!
Back in November of 1990, I had excitedly called so many relatives when I found out I was pregnant. I had always wanted babies. (In reflection, for the immature and selfish reason of having someone to love who would love me back.) I was met with my father disowning me, other relatives clearly not enthusiastic, and my boyfriend telling me that he didn’t want any more children. He already had a nine-month-old baby that I adored and loved mothering.
I had no knowledge of abortion. I grew up in upstate New York in a very simple small country town. I still can’t believe I let him drive me to Binghamton, to have a “procedure” done. It was the best thing, I was told. I was too young to have a baby. It’s no big deal. It’s just a clump of cells. It’s not a baby. I sat in the office crying, after slinking in the car from the group of women outside holding signs and calling out words that my brain couldn’t decipher.
I was called into a room and the stern woman behind the desk asked why I was crying. I said, “because this is MURDER!” She told me I needed to leave. I ran out to the car, my soul thanking and praising even though I didn’t acknowledge those concepts. My boyfriend was not sharing my relief and joy that my baby was still there. Two weeks later, he drove me back to Binghamton. Two souls died that day.
I went home from that holiday gathering in December 2010 and regretted sharing my secret with the pastor’s wife. Very few people ever knew. I was sorry that I told her. It was going to be harder to hide it now. She’d probably tell all of her church friends and I wouldn’t be able to look at them. They’d all hate me too.
After that she started inviting me to a Women’s group at a church. They offered childcare. I was homeschooling my children and thought it would be a great way for them to play with other children. I went to a few meetings. I thought the women were mostly nice, but it was really strange listening to them talk. I just couldn’t understand how they could talk about God like they did. It’s not like HE was real. Weird, but I kept going. I think I was waiting for someone to point out my abortion and make me leave.
The pastor’s wife suggested a few times that I go into my closet and ask God if HE’s real. There was nothing to lose in asking, she said. I reasoned there was nothing to gain, so why do it?
Oddly, one night after the kids were in bed, I actually shut the closet doors behind me and got on my knees. I started crying immediately. I didn’t understand why. I was talking out loud and felt really dumb to be doing that. I remember asking God to show me if HE’s real. I told Him that it made no sense to be asking someone if HE’s real if HE isn’t. And yet, crying the entire time.
I got off my knees, feeling somewhat embarrassed about what just happened and didn’t give it thought after that. I went on with my life. During this time, I had visited a naturopathic doctor, as the western medical route offered me nothing.
At my first visit, she started asking me questions about what I had written in my intake paperwork. This had never happened before. I’ve filled out paperwork for many doctors over my lifetime and never had a single one pried about what I’d written. I was annoyed and thought she was very nosey and I didn’t see what sense it was to ask. I was there about my dying body.
She first asked about my mother’s early death. I was a bit indignant at this and was unable to vocalize. As I looked at the floor, I broke down crying. What was happening to me?!? I pulled myself together and said my mother committed suicide when I was 15. I was almost angry. I was there for help. Now she was making it worse by bringing up a very private painful thing from my past that had nothing to do with my health. I could not believe my ears at her next question. She was asking about the disparity in my number of pregnancies versus the number of my children. What?!?!
Again, I broke down sobbing, trying to speak out that I’d had an abortion at 18. I was a mess, and clearly not going to get any help here either. I wanted to leave, but my manners held me to my seat. (I know now who really kept me seated. Hallelu-yah!) Just as I thought I’d been tortured and worsened enough, she asked me if I had a Bible.
My brain could’ve exploded! I mumbled, embarrassed and apologetic by the fact that I did. I quickly explained that it was from a religion course I took in college. She suggested that I read the Book of James when I get home. I thought WOW! What a quack and what a waste of money. She didn’t take insurance so I paid out of pocket for this expensive and useless visit!
Fortunately, she found out after some testing that my body’s immune system had been completely wiped out by a hydrogen peroxide regime I had done 8 months prior to eradicate my debilitating allergy symptoms. My body had been cannibalizing itself since I wasn’t able to absorb nutrients from my food. I had broken three lower left ribs in a car accident in 1993, and she said the spasms were attacking a weak spot as my muscle tissue was being broken down. She gave me a plan of probiotics and enzymes to help turn me around from dying.
Sometime after kneeling in my closet, I was walking toward that same closet one night to put away laundry, I realized my entire existence was instantly and fully LOVE; for a woman who had been very evil toward me for the previous 16 years. Something did that. I knew it did NOT come from inside me. I stood still for a few seconds trying to fathom what happened. What happened?!?!
I thought of the woman. I fervently tried to hate her. Surely, she deserved that for how awful she’s been to me. She didn’t deserve this complete lack of any semblance of hate. Each time I tried hard to conjure up anger and resentment, it was impossible!! It was gone. It had literally left my entire psyche. All I could do was think of her with love, compassion, and a desire for her good. I went about my night, and it didn’t change back. The old negative feelings just somehow no longer existed. I knew there must be something to this whole God thing, but I wasn’t quite there yet. There was also still this speck in my soul that had been forming and growing, unbeknownst to me. That one word that the pastor’s wife had spoken 3 months prior. “Forgiveness” It had been conceived within me that night, and grew so slowly in my inner dark, just as my aborted baby had.
Yeshua brought this word to full gestation and delivered me into HIS outstretched arms on my 41st birthday, April 13, 2013, at a Rachel’s Vineyard post-abortive retreat. I finally accepted HIS forgiveness that had been there all along.
Back to February 14, 2011. I’m now close to four months after my ER visit. I was helping the pastor’s wife decorate for a Valentine’s Day party. While setting up, I nonchalantly said, “I think I want Jesus to be my Lord and Savior.” She grabbed me and pulled me into an empty room. She was crying and held my hands and told me to repeat some words. I felt kinda weird, but I repeated after her. I really didn’t see what the big deal was...yet.
Well, the Lord was definitely pursuing me. I can take NO credit. HE made it clear through my thoughts, words, and actions, that this vessel being redeemed for HIS purposes was not of my doing in any way.
I’ll leave off here for now. I pray you are abundantly encouraged and blessed with how the Lord God Almighty left the 99 for me and for you!!
Amen
