Life Verse

. . .He will give beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair. . .(Isaiah 61:3)

Monday, February 21, 2011

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. . .

1 comment:

  1. I am waiting eagerly to hear your testimony of God's grace

    ReplyDelete