Lately, I've been feeling very much like God doesn't care about me or my life. I railed against him. I accused him of not even participating in our lives. I knew this was wrong, but I was on the verge of despairing.
This weekend Porter recommended that if we don't have faith, perhaps we should ASK for it. He said, "Persuade your heart to trust in God. Remember that God is with us." So, that's what I did. I asked God to restore my faith, not necessarily believing that he would, but knowing that I wanted my faith and trust in God's sovereignty and love back.
Last night I got a text message from a friend telling me that her friend had discovered that she was pregnant and was planning to have an abortion. I committed to praying for her friend and the life of that little baby, which I did. Earnestly.
A couple of hours later I got another message telling me that her friend had decided to keep the baby.
I wept for joy. Literally. I laid in bed and wept. I thanked God for that little baby's life being spared, and I thanked him for reminding me that he cares about us.
Am I seeing God's hand in my life today? I don't know. Am I content and confident in God's love for me? Yes.
"If you do not stand firm in your faith you will not stand at all."
-Isaiah 7:9
Showing posts with label abortion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abortion. Show all posts
Monday, December 22, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Silent No More
On this day in 1973, Roe v Wade was passed, making abortion legal in the United States.
On Saturday morning I had the privilege and profound joy of going to listen to Carla give her testimony with Silent No More Minnesota at the State Capital in St. Paul. I was stunned to learn many statistics about abortion, all of which led me to some very important realizations:
Women DO regret their abortions.
Women ARE hurt emotionally and physically by abortion.
Men DO regret abortions.
Men ARE hurt emotionally by abortion.
I will join Carla today in praying that hearts and minds will be changed about abortion. I will also continue to pray for Carla as she honors God by reaching out in love with her story and without judgement to both pregnant and post-abortive women.
On Saturday morning I had the privilege and profound joy of going to listen to Carla give her testimony with Silent No More Minnesota at the State Capital in St. Paul. I was stunned to learn many statistics about abortion, all of which led me to some very important realizations:
Women DO regret their abortions.
Women ARE hurt emotionally and physically by abortion.
Men DO regret abortions.
Men ARE hurt emotionally by abortion.
I will join Carla today in praying that hearts and minds will be changed about abortion. I will also continue to pray for Carla as she honors God by reaching out in love with her story and without judgement to both pregnant and post-abortive women.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Being Real 6
Today completes the Being Real series.
If you have any questions or want to talk about anything you've read, please let me know!
I pray that God touches hearts the way mine was touched upon reading Carla's story.
Being Real 6
I have 3 "friends" that have had abortions. Let me clarify the word friend. Two of them I haven't seen for years and one no longer talks to me. They are in denial, only they don't know it. They said things to me like, "it has just never bothered me the way it has bothered you." or "it doesn't affect me anymore" or "it was a tough decision but a good one for me."
I have some questions for you. Why do you drink like a fish? Why do you smoke like a chimney? Why do you swear like a sailor? Why do you under or over eat? Why the medication for depression? Where is the peace? If your decision was so right, shouldn't you be at peace with it? Why are you so angry?
You are running girls. Running.
The only way to healing is through the pain.I have had amazing resources to face into the pain. Forgiven and Set Free by Linda Cochrane is a book that I couldn't have done it without. I'll Hold You in Heaven by Jack Hayford is another one.
I have spoken at our church and I have led a bible study. I have talked on the phone for 3 hours to a girl who eventually did have one. I submitted my experience as a sworn affidavit in a court case. The rest of my story remains to be written.
My children will someday ask me what an abortion is. They will get an earfull. Ya think? I will be speaking at the state capitol in January, holding my sign that says I Regret My Abortion. Someday I want to stand outside Meadowbrook with only love written on my face or volunteer at a pregnancy center.
The truth will penetrate all of the lies. I have no doubt.
I never even typed what I thought about the father of my child. I denied him fatherhood. Husbands have taken their wives, boyfriends have taken their girlfriends to get abortions and they are hurting too. There are millions of hurting men and women. Millions of dead babies.
Abortion hurts us all.
And just what would my 16 year old child be like today???
If you have any questions or want to talk about anything you've read, please let me know!
I pray that God touches hearts the way mine was touched upon reading Carla's story.
Being Real 6
I have 3 "friends" that have had abortions. Let me clarify the word friend. Two of them I haven't seen for years and one no longer talks to me. They are in denial, only they don't know it. They said things to me like, "it has just never bothered me the way it has bothered you." or "it doesn't affect me anymore" or "it was a tough decision but a good one for me."
I have some questions for you. Why do you drink like a fish? Why do you smoke like a chimney? Why do you swear like a sailor? Why do you under or over eat? Why the medication for depression? Where is the peace? If your decision was so right, shouldn't you be at peace with it? Why are you so angry?
You are running girls. Running.
The only way to healing is through the pain.I have had amazing resources to face into the pain. Forgiven and Set Free by Linda Cochrane is a book that I couldn't have done it without. I'll Hold You in Heaven by Jack Hayford is another one.
I have spoken at our church and I have led a bible study. I have talked on the phone for 3 hours to a girl who eventually did have one. I submitted my experience as a sworn affidavit in a court case. The rest of my story remains to be written.
My children will someday ask me what an abortion is. They will get an earfull. Ya think? I will be speaking at the state capitol in January, holding my sign that says I Regret My Abortion. Someday I want to stand outside Meadowbrook with only love written on my face or volunteer at a pregnancy center.
The truth will penetrate all of the lies. I have no doubt.
I never even typed what I thought about the father of my child. I denied him fatherhood. Husbands have taken their wives, boyfriends have taken their girlfriends to get abortions and they are hurting too. There are millions of hurting men and women. Millions of dead babies.
Abortion hurts us all.
And just what would my 16 year old child be like today???
Friday, August 17, 2007
Being Real 5
This is the 5th installment of 6. I have to say that Being Real 5 touched me more than any others, and I still think about it regularly, since my own baby is about this big.
Pressing on...
Pat and I told everyone and their dog that we were pregnant. We were more than happy. We were walking on sunshine.
When I was about 10 weeks along I started to bleed and had an ultrasound. There was no heartbeat. The doctor I was seeing must have gotten straight A's in her How To Be Heartless classes. She was simply not concerned in the least. I was wasting her time. She asked me what I was going to do. What?! She asked me if I wanted a D & C. If that was a drug, give me some.
As she walked out of the room she flippantly stated, "Oh, you'll pass a plumsized clot." HHHMMMMM That is so not what happened.
I went into labor. I had contractions and was simply not prepared to deliver our baby in my hand. I remember screaming, "My baby, my baby, my baby!" Pat wanted to help his wife, but didn't know how. Who kept screaming?!
I looked hard at my child wanting to memorize everything, take a photo with my brain. Tiny feet with tiny toes, hands, fingers, arms and legs, a tiny rump and a sweet little face.
And then it hit me. Oh, dear Lord! I was this far along before my abortion! I had killed one, such as this?! A tiny unborn baby?!
There was absolutely no denying the humanity of this precious child! Nothing like truth slapping you upside the head. I finally understood. I got it.
This was the first in a series of events that led me down a path of repentance. My pastor mentioned abortion now and again. I thought I might throw up when he did. How could I reconcile what I thought was "my choice" and the faith that I claimed I now had? I could not. I repented and asked Him to forgive me for what I had done. I curled up in a ball in His lap and cried. I whispered, "Help me, please. I don't know what to do."
He heard me. I finally found The One. The only One who could remove my wet blanket of shame and bring me out into the light.
His name is Jesus.
Pressing on...
Pat and I told everyone and their dog that we were pregnant. We were more than happy. We were walking on sunshine.
When I was about 10 weeks along I started to bleed and had an ultrasound. There was no heartbeat. The doctor I was seeing must have gotten straight A's in her How To Be Heartless classes. She was simply not concerned in the least. I was wasting her time. She asked me what I was going to do. What?! She asked me if I wanted a D & C. If that was a drug, give me some.
As she walked out of the room she flippantly stated, "Oh, you'll pass a plumsized clot." HHHMMMMM That is so not what happened.
I went into labor. I had contractions and was simply not prepared to deliver our baby in my hand. I remember screaming, "My baby, my baby, my baby!" Pat wanted to help his wife, but didn't know how. Who kept screaming?!
I looked hard at my child wanting to memorize everything, take a photo with my brain. Tiny feet with tiny toes, hands, fingers, arms and legs, a tiny rump and a sweet little face.
And then it hit me. Oh, dear Lord! I was this far along before my abortion! I had killed one, such as this?! A tiny unborn baby?!
There was absolutely no denying the humanity of this precious child! Nothing like truth slapping you upside the head. I finally understood. I got it.
This was the first in a series of events that led me down a path of repentance. My pastor mentioned abortion now and again. I thought I might throw up when he did. How could I reconcile what I thought was "my choice" and the faith that I claimed I now had? I could not. I repented and asked Him to forgive me for what I had done. I curled up in a ball in His lap and cried. I whispered, "Help me, please. I don't know what to do."
He heard me. I finally found The One. The only One who could remove my wet blanket of shame and bring me out into the light.
His name is Jesus.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Being Real 4
The plot thickens...
Being Real 4
I assumed that all of those crying girls were just not as mature as I. After all, I was relieved and ready to get back to my life. That is what I was told would happen. I believe the relief came from leaving that Shop of Horrors without a "thank you," "you're welcome," or a "please, come again."
Actually I was supposed to come back for a check up. Yeah, right. I went home to my apartment, took my pain pills and slept the day away.
I headed up to see Pat at college that weekend. I clung to him for dear life. I made him promise me that I would have more babies. Promise me. Say it out loud. He did with a very confused look on his face. Poor guy. One would think that there might be classes offered after an abortion. Getting On With Your Life 101. Make The Nightmares Stop for Beginners. I could not shake the uneasiness I was feeling. An anxiety that drove me to be constantly on the move.
I was a substitute teacher from 8-3pm and then worked at a group home from 3:30-10:30pm. EVERY DAY! If I sat still long enough I might start thinking and that would not be good. I drank, I ate too much or too little and exercised obsessively. I began to hate myself, hate my body. A self-loathing that drove me to desperate thoughts of suicide. I became depressed and oh, so angry.
I was one angry, hurting woman. I wore shame like a wet blanket. I declared myself to be pro-choice. I had one, so that made it right, right?! I would see those billboards for Prolife MN with cute babies and I would swear and flip it off and seethe.
There is a name for all of that behavior. It's called denial. A woman who has an abortion will stay in denial for 7-9 years. By then, careers have changed, a husband found, a family is started, a baby is wanted. The bricks that you have used in the wall to protect yourself start to crumble. The lies you believed unravel when replaced with truth.
Patrick Stream and I were married. We started trying to have a baby. We were thrilled to our toes when the pregnancy test revealed that we were indeed pregnant!
Being Real 4
I assumed that all of those crying girls were just not as mature as I. After all, I was relieved and ready to get back to my life. That is what I was told would happen. I believe the relief came from leaving that Shop of Horrors without a "thank you," "you're welcome," or a "please, come again."
Actually I was supposed to come back for a check up. Yeah, right. I went home to my apartment, took my pain pills and slept the day away.
I headed up to see Pat at college that weekend. I clung to him for dear life. I made him promise me that I would have more babies. Promise me. Say it out loud. He did with a very confused look on his face. Poor guy. One would think that there might be classes offered after an abortion. Getting On With Your Life 101. Make The Nightmares Stop for Beginners. I could not shake the uneasiness I was feeling. An anxiety that drove me to be constantly on the move.
I was a substitute teacher from 8-3pm and then worked at a group home from 3:30-10:30pm. EVERY DAY! If I sat still long enough I might start thinking and that would not be good. I drank, I ate too much or too little and exercised obsessively. I began to hate myself, hate my body. A self-loathing that drove me to desperate thoughts of suicide. I became depressed and oh, so angry.
I was one angry, hurting woman. I wore shame like a wet blanket. I declared myself to be pro-choice. I had one, so that made it right, right?! I would see those billboards for Prolife MN with cute babies and I would swear and flip it off and seethe.
There is a name for all of that behavior. It's called denial. A woman who has an abortion will stay in denial for 7-9 years. By then, careers have changed, a husband found, a family is started, a baby is wanted. The bricks that you have used in the wall to protect yourself start to crumble. The lies you believed unravel when replaced with truth.
Patrick Stream and I were married. We started trying to have a baby. We were thrilled to our toes when the pregnancy test revealed that we were indeed pregnant!
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Being Real 3
Now that I'm starting to get back into the swing of normal life, I'd like to pick up where I left off with Carla's "Being Real" series.
If you remember, when we left off with Being Real 2, Carla was considering an abortion. Let's pick up where we left off. Here is Being Real 3.
Please be warned and read with caution--this one was the hardest for me to read.
Love you, Carla.
The appointment was made for an abortion. I was a tormented soul. I went through great mental anguish. On one hand, I thought I could have a baby. I could do it. On the other hand, how in the world could I? On the outside I appeared to have my ducks in a row. On the inside I was a mess. What I really wanted more than anything was to curl up in a ball on someone's lap and cry. Cry until I couldn't cry anymore and in a tiny voice whisper,"Help me, please. I don't know what to do."
The day came. I had a ride and didn't have any idea what I was in for. Those that support abortion will say that it is like getting a cavity filled or a tooth pulled. No big deal. Another lie.
Bear with me, I do not remember everything. There are parts of my time in the killing fields that I cannot account for. I know I was there from like 8am to 1pm. I just don't know the exact order of events anymore. My brain is trying to protect me, I guess. Thank you brain. I do remember the smell of death and fear. It was oppressive really. Nobody smiled. Nobody looked at anyone else. Nobody made small talk. There were so many people! Like herd after herd of cattle. Boyfriends with girlfriends, mothers with daughters. We all knew why we were there even if it wasn't discussed.
I think I read some papers. I remember some kind of video. Looked like a cartoon drawing of a bunch of cells. Another lie. I was taken to "counseling." The counselor said,"Will it be Visa or Mastercard today?" She commented on how self-assured I seemed and that I should be proud of myself for having a plan. Lies. I waited. I remember a girl wandering around and crying. She was about 7 months along. Totally showing, feeling the kicks I am sure. She was begging all of the nurses to help her. With all of their compassion, they avoided her. She was a nuisance. I was so grateful to not be her. I think I had an ultrasound. But I am simply not sure. They told me I was 9 or 10 weeks along. How else would they know? But then couldn't they have just lied?!I was brought into a little room. The nurse babbled on about nothing. She told what was happening AS IT WAS HAPPENING.
The doctor came in. Did not even look at me or talk to me. In fact he seemed angry with me. He was rough, mean, and cruel.(Could he have been anything else?) All business and with such a look of disgust. When abortion supporters say that abortion is "between a woman and her doctor" are they talking about him?! I don't remember a lot of the procedure. Only parts. The word horrific comes to mind. A loud vacuum sound that I will never forget and pain like I have never felt. My insides torn out.
I sat in a recliner when it was over, with a heated blanket on me and eating peanut butter and jelly toast. I was simply relieved to have it over so I could go home. I could move on. Another lie. I distinctly remember looking around to catch someone's eye and maybe smile with relief. Every single girl that sat in a recliner was crying.
If you remember, when we left off with Being Real 2, Carla was considering an abortion. Let's pick up where we left off. Here is Being Real 3.
Please be warned and read with caution--this one was the hardest for me to read.
Love you, Carla.
The appointment was made for an abortion. I was a tormented soul. I went through great mental anguish. On one hand, I thought I could have a baby. I could do it. On the other hand, how in the world could I? On the outside I appeared to have my ducks in a row. On the inside I was a mess. What I really wanted more than anything was to curl up in a ball on someone's lap and cry. Cry until I couldn't cry anymore and in a tiny voice whisper,"Help me, please. I don't know what to do."
The day came. I had a ride and didn't have any idea what I was in for. Those that support abortion will say that it is like getting a cavity filled or a tooth pulled. No big deal. Another lie.
Bear with me, I do not remember everything. There are parts of my time in the killing fields that I cannot account for. I know I was there from like 8am to 1pm. I just don't know the exact order of events anymore. My brain is trying to protect me, I guess. Thank you brain. I do remember the smell of death and fear. It was oppressive really. Nobody smiled. Nobody looked at anyone else. Nobody made small talk. There were so many people! Like herd after herd of cattle. Boyfriends with girlfriends, mothers with daughters. We all knew why we were there even if it wasn't discussed.
I think I read some papers. I remember some kind of video. Looked like a cartoon drawing of a bunch of cells. Another lie. I was taken to "counseling." The counselor said,"Will it be Visa or Mastercard today?" She commented on how self-assured I seemed and that I should be proud of myself for having a plan. Lies. I waited. I remember a girl wandering around and crying. She was about 7 months along. Totally showing, feeling the kicks I am sure. She was begging all of the nurses to help her. With all of their compassion, they avoided her. She was a nuisance. I was so grateful to not be her. I think I had an ultrasound. But I am simply not sure. They told me I was 9 or 10 weeks along. How else would they know? But then couldn't they have just lied?!I was brought into a little room. The nurse babbled on about nothing. She told what was happening AS IT WAS HAPPENING.
The doctor came in. Did not even look at me or talk to me. In fact he seemed angry with me. He was rough, mean, and cruel.(Could he have been anything else?) All business and with such a look of disgust. When abortion supporters say that abortion is "between a woman and her doctor" are they talking about him?! I don't remember a lot of the procedure. Only parts. The word horrific comes to mind. A loud vacuum sound that I will never forget and pain like I have never felt. My insides torn out.
I sat in a recliner when it was over, with a heated blanket on me and eating peanut butter and jelly toast. I was simply relieved to have it over so I could go home. I could move on. Another lie. I distinctly remember looking around to catch someone's eye and maybe smile with relief. Every single girl that sat in a recliner was crying.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Being Real 2
**I've changed my mind. Comment away!**
I have decided not to open the "Being Real" series up for comments because I'm not interested in an abortion debate. I want Carla's words to be read for what they are--a testimony of God's healing power.
Being Real 2
It was Rebound guy.(Not McStreamy. We hadn't even kissed.)I couldn't believe it. The pregnancy test was positive. My mind kept repeating no no no no no but the truth does rise to the surface. Yes. I was pregnant. I was 24, lived in a dump, my family wasn't speaking to me, I drove a 1980 Chevy Chevette and worked part-time at a daycare center and Lerner clothing store. I was working on getting my teaching license so I could hopefully land a teaching job.
I told Pat and my roomate. 2 people.
My roomate said she would drive me. She had driven lots of girlfriends to get theirs. A Chauffeur of Death, if you will. Nice. Pat didn't say anything. We were friends, he was heading back to school and I was alone. I wish I would have sought out others to be informed or simply to listen and be there for me. I was terrified. Out of my mind. Terrified. What would I do? What kind of life would I have? I rushed headlong into a decision before I could even let my thoughts settle. I sorta fantasized about having it.(no, not an it! A baby! My baby!)I could almost let myself feel excited to be a mom but those thoughts were immediately shut down. No. My mother took my sister to get an abortion. Her own grandchild. My example. I went to the phone book and looked in A's. Right there. Right in front was a long list of places. I picked one. I dialed the phone and made an appointment at Meadowbrook. My problem would be over, finished, solved in one week. I could get on with my life.
OR so they told me. So I thought.
I have decided not to open the "Being Real" series up for comments because I'm not interested in an abortion debate. I want Carla's words to be read for what they are--a testimony of God's healing power.
Being Real 2
It was Rebound guy.(Not McStreamy. We hadn't even kissed.)I couldn't believe it. The pregnancy test was positive. My mind kept repeating no no no no no but the truth does rise to the surface. Yes. I was pregnant. I was 24, lived in a dump, my family wasn't speaking to me, I drove a 1980 Chevy Chevette and worked part-time at a daycare center and Lerner clothing store. I was working on getting my teaching license so I could hopefully land a teaching job.
I told Pat and my roomate. 2 people.
My roomate said she would drive me. She had driven lots of girlfriends to get theirs. A Chauffeur of Death, if you will. Nice. Pat didn't say anything. We were friends, he was heading back to school and I was alone. I wish I would have sought out others to be informed or simply to listen and be there for me. I was terrified. Out of my mind. Terrified. What would I do? What kind of life would I have? I rushed headlong into a decision before I could even let my thoughts settle. I sorta fantasized about having it.(no, not an it! A baby! My baby!)I could almost let myself feel excited to be a mom but those thoughts were immediately shut down. No. My mother took my sister to get an abortion. Her own grandchild. My example. I went to the phone book and looked in A's. Right there. Right in front was a long list of places. I picked one. I dialed the phone and made an appointment at Meadowbrook. My problem would be over, finished, solved in one week. I could get on with my life.
OR so they told me. So I thought.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Being Real
A friend of mine recently started posting about her life on the road to meet Christ. Her story is touching, painful to read at times, and one of the bravest things I've ever read. I've never seen anything like this, and I'm going to share six of her posts on my own blog, because I feel that the more people who read this the better. I hope God touches your heart the way He touched mine through Carla's words.
Here is the first post, Being Real 1.
If I don't jump in with both feet this post will never be written. Here goes.
I grew up in a family where talking about feelings or emotions was discouraged. There was zero meaningful communication about anything. My mother's weapon of choice was the silent treatment. My parents checked out of their parenting gig when I was probably 10. They followed other more worthwhile pursuits. I was cast adrift on a sea of self-doubt and loneliness with a shoreline of despair in my sights. A girl searching for love. A recipe for disaster. What other people said I was-I became. I started drinking at age 14 to escape the pain of losing my grandmother. She was the only one who showed me unconditional love. I miss her still. Along with the drinking came the suicidal thoughts and the desperate plans of a desperate girl. Hey, wait a minute there are boys out there! Boys who will be nice to you for only one reason. Since I had no moral compass to speak of I was quickly drawn into behaviors that I should have turned from. I was used by many. I believed I deserved no better. On this path of self-destruction I met an extremely abusive man. He kept that under wraps until we were engaged. He beat me and one night tried to rape and kill me. I ran. I ran to Connecticut to be a nanny for a loving family. I was healing, or so I thought but the loneliness and longing to be loved led me to have an affair with a married man. I honestly thought he would choose me over his wife. Ha. That's what they all think. On the rebound I found someone else. Thought it was love, wanted it to be but it wasn't. He should have just been a good friend. I left Connecticut after my contract was up. I came home to a very icy reception. My family wasn't even at the airport to meet me. I had to beg my sister to come after promising that I would pay her for gas. WELCOME HOME, CARLA! I found an apartment with a co-worker and started partying.
There he was. The man I would marry. I saw him and felt like I had known him all of my life. Patrick Stream. I fell in like. Wanted to do this right for once. Just be friends and have fun and get back on track. I wouldn't even kiss him on our first date.
The world came crashing in when the pregnancy test came back positive. Stay tuned.
Here is the first post, Being Real 1.
If I don't jump in with both feet this post will never be written. Here goes.
I grew up in a family where talking about feelings or emotions was discouraged. There was zero meaningful communication about anything. My mother's weapon of choice was the silent treatment. My parents checked out of their parenting gig when I was probably 10. They followed other more worthwhile pursuits. I was cast adrift on a sea of self-doubt and loneliness with a shoreline of despair in my sights. A girl searching for love. A recipe for disaster. What other people said I was-I became. I started drinking at age 14 to escape the pain of losing my grandmother. She was the only one who showed me unconditional love. I miss her still. Along with the drinking came the suicidal thoughts and the desperate plans of a desperate girl. Hey, wait a minute there are boys out there! Boys who will be nice to you for only one reason. Since I had no moral compass to speak of I was quickly drawn into behaviors that I should have turned from. I was used by many. I believed I deserved no better. On this path of self-destruction I met an extremely abusive man. He kept that under wraps until we were engaged. He beat me and one night tried to rape and kill me. I ran. I ran to Connecticut to be a nanny for a loving family. I was healing, or so I thought but the loneliness and longing to be loved led me to have an affair with a married man. I honestly thought he would choose me over his wife. Ha. That's what they all think. On the rebound I found someone else. Thought it was love, wanted it to be but it wasn't. He should have just been a good friend. I left Connecticut after my contract was up. I came home to a very icy reception. My family wasn't even at the airport to meet me. I had to beg my sister to come after promising that I would pay her for gas. WELCOME HOME, CARLA! I found an apartment with a co-worker and started partying.
There he was. The man I would marry. I saw him and felt like I had known him all of my life. Patrick Stream. I fell in like. Wanted to do this right for once. Just be friends and have fun and get back on track. I wouldn't even kiss him on our first date.
The world came crashing in when the pregnancy test came back positive. Stay tuned.
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