"I've had an abortion." It was spoken like a challenge. She was seventeen and homeless. We had taken her in but she didn't know us and we din't know her.
When she told me I wrapped my arms around her and wept. I whispered in her ear,"I am so sorry, my baby died too." When she heard this her tears flowed freely.
She and I began to share our stories. We found to our amazement that our babies had the same due date. Her room would have been Belle Marie's nursery. I still had the baby clothes that had been given me at her baby shower.
We spent many hours talking and crying. Sometimes we would hold the empty baby clothes and each other as we wept. But something was taking place in both our hearts. Healing came for both of us as we shared our grief.
I talked to her about Jesus and His love I told her that He is the God who really sees. No one could understand her pain but Him. All of her shame all of her regret He was willing to take. At the beginning of His ministry John had called out when he saw Jesus and said,"Behold the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world."
I still miss Belle Marie but Jesus has redeemed my sorrow and even though her life was brief He gave it meaning.
dear Sarah, i L.O.V.E. reading the blog!!!!! it is such a great devotional for me! the grace and love you are showering people with.. very inspiring, my friend! THANK YOU!!!!!
ReplyDeletePeople fail to realize the loss of a wanted child on the mother-to-be and the family-to-be.
ReplyDeleteAfter the last miscarriage we had, I took an uncle aside at a family picnic and told him if one more person approached either my wife or me with "when will you guys try again" or "thank goodness it happened early in the pregnancy," two things would happen: I'd make a scene and it would be the last time anyone would see us for the foreseeable future.
Some of that was pain of loss. Some of it was the pain of realizing my dreams of a large family would not be fulfilled (boy, was I wrong on that one--I got a huge family when God delivered us to Chattooga County). Pain is pain and others, even though they mean well, often don't realize they're pouring salt into the still raw wounds of loss. As I've reflected, I prayed not for God to forgive them, but rather that I be forgiven.
Life goes on and pain and loss are constants in life. How we deal with them says much about how we accept faith and our moral fiber.
Sarah, you've been a good writer and storyteller for longer than we've been friends. Keep on spreading your tales and your love.
Take Care--Phil