Just when I thought I've said so much, in fact I've barely scratched the surface. One thing I feel burdened to speak about when it comes to the issue of abortion is the silenced. And by "the silenced," I mean the Church.
For the longest time, I was that "Pro-Choice Christian." I sat in the pews, took communion, volunteered in activities; but, don't you dare mess with my sacred cow...choice. As I reflect on those years, I realize that the Church never really talked about "it" other than to say it was "bad." I already knew that, but "it" wasn't my business what other people did; and mine was so yesterday's news it was inconsequential. As such, I was free to go about my day-to-day life. Mind you, I wasn't vocal about the fact that I was pro-choice. You would never have heard me say to anyone, "Hey! Do you need a ride to the abortion clinic?" However, what you did hear was, "I wouldn't do it [again], but I won't get in the way of someone else's choice." or "That's a personal decision between a woman and her doctor." Or the best one, "Who am I to judge?" That, my friends, is the silenced (more like muffled) voice of the Church. All in the name of "cheap grace." It's no wonder we're losing our salt. | How did I become so comfortably numb? Didn't I confess this sin? What happened? Just then I realized that the culture still had a stronghold, not just on me but, on the church." |
To be fair, I didn't realize any of that until I became pregnant with my first daughter. During my pregnancy I panicked as I had learned from Scripture that sins of the father visit the future generations. As God would have it, He surrounded me with wise counsel and a Christian Counselor walked with me through the Scriptures as we talked about un-confessed sin. We spent much time in prayer; and, as a result, I felt I had overcome this hurdle. Then my daughter was born. I couldn't believe I could love a little human so much that my heart would burst.
During my second pregnancy I experienced this sort of brain-fog mixed with nausea mixed with yuck. I felt like I would vommit on a daily basis, but I never did. At 11 weeks, I thought I had miscarried. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that it was evident that a loss had in fact occurred. While at the hospital waiting for the doctor, the staff takes me to get an ultrasound so that I could obtain closure prior. I was ASTOUNDED! There on the screen in front of us was my little girl, dancing and leaping with joy! My emotions were all over the place. One thing is for sure, I began to wrestle with the silence.
I found myself face-to-face with my child at 11 weeks. Elated that she - not it, not a glob of tissue - but that my baby, a little person, was ALIVE and I would meet her soon. It was at this same age of development, just 19 years prior, that I took the life of my other child; you know the one I referred to as "choice;" the one society had convinced me was just a "glob of tissue." For the first time that realization weighed heavy on my heart. How had I become so comfortably numb? Didn't I confess this sin? What happened? Just then I realized that the culture still had a stronghold not just on me, but on the church. I had been sitting in the pews of denial along with all my other brethren…silenced.
After losing one of my babies and coming face-to-face with LIFE in the womb, something changed. I had no idea what it was, but I knew parts of me were awakened. During this time, I did do one thing right, I prayed dangerous prayers. I think God loves it when we struggle and ask those questions that we're so afraid to ask. Only then can He take us on the journey we've been reluctant to take. God really shows off when we pray those kind of prayers!
During my second pregnancy I experienced this sort of brain-fog mixed with nausea mixed with yuck. I felt like I would vommit on a daily basis, but I never did. At 11 weeks, I thought I had miscarried. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that it was evident that a loss had in fact occurred. While at the hospital waiting for the doctor, the staff takes me to get an ultrasound so that I could obtain closure prior. I was ASTOUNDED! There on the screen in front of us was my little girl, dancing and leaping with joy! My emotions were all over the place. One thing is for sure, I began to wrestle with the silence.
I found myself face-to-face with my child at 11 weeks. Elated that she - not it, not a glob of tissue - but that my baby, a little person, was ALIVE and I would meet her soon. It was at this same age of development, just 19 years prior, that I took the life of my other child; you know the one I referred to as "choice;" the one society had convinced me was just a "glob of tissue." For the first time that realization weighed heavy on my heart. How had I become so comfortably numb? Didn't I confess this sin? What happened? Just then I realized that the culture still had a stronghold not just on me, but on the church. I had been sitting in the pews of denial along with all my other brethren…silenced.
After losing one of my babies and coming face-to-face with LIFE in the womb, something changed. I had no idea what it was, but I knew parts of me were awakened. During this time, I did do one thing right, I prayed dangerous prayers. I think God loves it when we struggle and ask those questions that we're so afraid to ask. Only then can He take us on the journey we've been reluctant to take. God really shows off when we pray those kind of prayers!
For the longest time I (erroneously) thought that Christians had to have it all together and I went from being in bondage to my sin to being in bondage to looking good so that I would be accepted." |
As I mentioned, something had awakened in me. I went from a trivial shrug of admission that what I did was wrong, to repenting for the sin of abortion.
My lack of confession and subsequent lack of repentance regarding my abortion had prevented from being free and the end result was my silence. There is a difference between admitting you are wrong and confessing for the crime. It's the difference between being silenced and being free. My silence reminded me of Rachel (Gen 31). She had stolen the household idols of Laban and when her father entered her tent to search for them, with all the decorum she could muster she told him she couldn't stand because "the manner of woman was upon her (she was on her period)." I, too, "sat on my idols," so to speak, and they went with me everywhere. I denied their existence; hence, the pews of denial reference. But these idols held me captive; not even a veneer of good deeds could put my mind at ease. I had not realized that until I was face-to-face with my child in the womb. |
I (erroneously) thought that Christians had to have it all together and far be it from me to stick out as one that didn't. I went from being in bondage to my sin to being in bondage to “looking good” so that I would be accepted. I am eager to report that I am free from both.
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