Lazarus

I remember so clearly accepting Jesus into my heart at the age of 5.  I was playing in my bedroom (we were living in the ultra-hippy town of Ashland, Oregon) and the sun was shining so brightly through my window.  It struck me that God's presence was in my room- I could feel His warmth and love envelop me.  I immediately asked to be His.  There was no question.  I knew only love and acceptance and felt perfectly at home in His company.  It's the earliest intimate moment with God I remember experiencing. . . .

"Their intelligence has been shrouded in darkness, and they are estranged from the life of God, because of the ignorance in them, which in turn comes from resisting God's will."  (Eph. 4:18, Complete Jewish Bible)

 

The next several weeks were dark- the Great Fog prevented me from truly absorbing what I had done to myself, to my unborn child.  I nursed my wounded body, took my birth control pills and tried to return to the everyday 16-year-old world of high school. 

 

One translation of SIN is "parabasis- transgression with a suggestion of violence".  That was certainly a true description of how many body and soul felt after the abortion- an act of violence had been surely perpetrated against it.  What's worse, I was throwing up all the time- a side affect of the birth control pills, I was told.

 

My boyfriend and I were uneasy in each other's presence.  It's as if the sight of each other was a constant reminder of what was no longer. . and our Sin.  We were like Adam and Eve, once they discovered their nakedness, and really their own human condition.  We made each other cringe.

 

I was ready to get back into the swing of things- drinking, partying, whatever.  I made plans one Friday night a few weeks after the abortion to spend the night at a girlfriend's house. That's what I told my parents anyway.  Instead, I was headed to a hotel party, with my boyfriend, and other friends.  Finally, a time to let loose, forget about my troubles.  I'm sure the Bartles and Jaymes would totally help my quesiness too.

 

One of the "side affects" of being saved and baptized, and having Godly, praying parents, is that the Holy Spirit will at some point, intercede.  On that Friday night, the Holy Spirit woke my mom and clearly told her where to look in my room, to find all of the evidence of my activities.  There she found the paperwork from the abortion and my birth control pills.  A phone call was made quickly to my girlfriend, who was furiously lying for me to cover my tracks.  The message was made clear- "wherever Elisha was, make sure she gets home now." 

 

I was met at my house by my two very angry, beyond-hurt parents.  My poor parents, who had watch me at the age of 12 get baptized in water and by the Holy Spirit -found out in one night that their daughter had been having sex, had gotten pregnant, had an abortion and was now on birth control pills.  Angry and shameful words were hurled, from both sides of the fence. 

 

I let the Great Fog keep me from feeling the enormity of the situation.  My heart had become hard and black, like the bottom of a deep, dark well.  I was "fine" with my decisions.  I wasn't backing down.  My mom was horrified to hear the name of the abortionist- she immediately scheduled an appointment for me with her doctor to make sure I was ok.  I would find out later that abortions can leave you at risk to never get pregnant again, can open up your body to infection and other complications. 

 

I didn't read that fine print.

 

The doctor's appointment felt like the funeral service for my baby.  Let's make sure you're fine- that the abortionist did a complete job and you weren't injured in any way by your actions.  I told the doctor I was throwing up- the birth control pills must be too strong for me.  She immediately ordered a pregnancy test.  That shocked me- why would you do that?  She then gently explained that tissue, or a part, could've been left behind in my uterus, tricking my body into thinking I was still pregnant.  I wasn't nauseous from the Pill, I was having morning sickness. 

 

Wait. . .tissues??? Parts???? My mind was spinning- thank God I was already laying down.  The clinic worker's voice came back to haunt me. . .just a cluster of cells. . . nothing to be concerned about.  Liar.

 

The pregnancy test came back positive.  The only way to know what was left behind was to do an ultrasound- another invasive procedure into my already hurting body.  My mom held my hand and as I tried to remember that this didn't affect me and I didn't care. 

 

The doctor turned the screen towards us and there we saw what had been "left behind".  A perfectly alive baby, with a beating heart.  About 10 weeks old.  There was no question this was the baby I had tried to kill. 

 

Then, the Great Fog lifted, and I wept, because what I thought was dead, was in fact, alive. . . .

 

Murderer. . .

"Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. . "

The Great Fog lifted me out of the clinic that day and down the road to my boyfriend's house, where I gave him the shocking news.  We were both raised by Godly parents, to live by the precepts of Scripture, and yet at that moment we could not fathom telling our parents of our sins, and the physical consequence that was now growing inside my belly.  What's worse, my boyfriend's dad was a pastor at a large church in San Diego, where I also attended church.  The weight of what we had done landed on both of us and neither one of could comprehend anything other than "making it all go away".  Where was all the Godly teaching we had received growing up?  We both knew and understood that God was the originator of life, that His love could cover any sin, that we had been bought with a price.  Like those who had gone before us, we bought into the lie, that our actions were unforgiveable, that the love that God and our parents had for us was conditional and based on our performance and actions.  The Deceiver whispered condemnation and death in my ear. . .

"You can't tell your parents. They will think you are horrible and this situation will make you unworthy of their love."

"You can't be the pregnant girl at school.  Then, everyone will KNOW."

"You can't have this baby, who's not really even a baby.  Remember, just a clump of cells."

So, we made a plan.  We would split the $200 fee 50/50.  My girlfriend would take me during school, so my parents wouldn't know.  And we would never speak of it again.
I had convinced myself there was no other option. . .the alternatives sent me deeper into the Great Fog.  And so I went, on that sunny San Diego day, to the non-descript building off the 805 freeway.  I remember thinking, I had no idea this was an abortion clinic.  How would I know that? Why would I even care?  And yet, here I was, ready to do the unspeakable, to get rid of the unspeakable. 

The waiting room was filled with girls just like me.  Ashamed.  Nervous.  Scared.  Ready to be done with all this.  The Great Fog helped me hand over the $200 to the lady at the counter. I took my seat and waited for name to be called.  I thought of nothing but being done.  I read through the paperwork and the warnings of a vacuum extraction.  None of it registered or applied to me. . .numbness was my friend and I could feel the stone settle into my heart, like sinking to the bottom of a pool.

Death waited for me in that cold, sterile room. . .

While I laid there, I started weeping.  The assistant asked me why I was crying.  Why?  I don't know why. . .

. . .because it hurts way more than I thought it would.

. . .because I knew I was killing my baby and I couldn't stop it.

. . .because I could feel the presence of the enemy so strongly and the Great Fog was starting to suffocate me.

The abortionist, Dr. Dym, emptied my uterus of its "contents", which were now safely concealed in those strange, fabric and lace covered canisters.  He gave me a pat on the leg and told me I was going to be just fine, and walked out of the room.  I never saw him again.

When the abortion was over, I was given paperwork for how to "take care of myself" (because I had done such a spectacular job so far), a prescription for birth-control pills and an appointment for a check-up in 2 weeks.  I knew one thing for sure, I was never coming back to that place again.

But in the next couple weeks, I would be reminded once again that nothing passes by the eyes of God, that it is truly His kindness that brings us to repentance, and He will only allow us to travel so far in our sin before He brings us back to His side.

And the girl who murdered her baby would be brought to that decision once again, this time with miraculous results. . .

The beginning was fuzzy, but the ending was clear. . .

Like anyone else, there's no good starting point to this kind of story.  Do I start in my childhood- raised by loving, Godly, albeit hippy, parents.  Or do I start with those agonizing middle-school years, taunted by short middle-school boys who preyed upon the insecurities of curly-haired, near-sighted smart girls?? Or maybe it goes back even further. . to a dark past of sexual abuse by a family friend and being awakened to a world that no young girl should ever know. . .

Wherever the beginning, there was no denying my circumstances and the surreal surrounding, laying on an exam table, watching the "contents" of my fragile 16-year-old uterus being vacuumed out into doily covered canisters.  I remember thinking, "Seriously, does the lace and fabric make this place any better??"  Because one thing I surely knew, this was a place of death and everything in me was crying out, including my cramping uterus, fighting to save the tiny living being inside it. . .

Sitting in the Planned Parenthood clinic, pregnancy was the farthest thing from my mind.  I needed the Pill- stat.  A little late, granted, but, hey, I'd been safe up until this point. . .sorta.  I had entered into the coveted world I'd always wanted- cute linebacker boyfriend from the neighboring high school (whose love I thought I had secured by giving up the precious gift of my virginity.)  My girlfriend and sat discussing the details of the weekend, while we waited for my prescription to be filled, after the mandatory pregnancy test gave the "all clear".  Plans were forming for meeting up at the local 7-11 to find the next great party, and a possible set up for my girlfriend and my boyfriend's best friend.  How fun it would be if that all worked out and we could double date???  Anyway, no thought was given to the thought that I might possibly be preggers. . .except that all the clinic workers kept looking at my test sitting on the counter, then looking at us and walking quickly away.  We both quickly realized this was taking way too long, and those clinic workers had a scary look on their faces.  We got quiet and held hands.  Finally,   no-name clinic worker sat in front of me and matter-of-factly told me what I had already begun to fear- I was pregnant.  And 16.  But, wait, didn't she know I was an honor student, with big plans for the weekend?

My options were made crystal clear.  The no-name CW informed me that if I wanted to keep the baby or consider adoption, there were some brochures in the rotating brochure-holder thingy at my disposal.  However, if I wanted an abortion, someone would be more than happy to talk to me.  Oh, and by the way, we don't have to tell your parents. And we can help you pay for it, if you don't have the money.  But wait, I must be about 6 weeks along by now. . .so what does that mean?  No worries- it's just a cluster of cells- nothing to even be concerned about.  The "procedure" would be easy, relatively pain-free, and oh, by the way, THEN you can start taking the Pill you came in here for in the first place. 

This is when the Great Fog, as I like to call it, set in. . .