I Get to be your Mom

I felt it was time for some poetry...and Mother's Day is the perfect opportunity to take a break from such serious things. :)

a loose strand of hair on your cheek all the time
freckles on your nose
the way you still make us carry you to bed even though you're eleven

hysterics and breath holding
bibs in your mouth when you get over excited
the way you lay down on the ground and laugh with your feet in the air

an unexpected slap on the back during prayer
Raised hands in worship are your voice
the way you anticipate the passing of communion

your broken walk and turned toes
your left hand
the way you keep surprising  us all and how you try to run

unfiltered attention and affection
beauty in everyone
the way you love

little brother, I didn't forget you
with your great hair
the way you call that spot on your forehead my favorite freckle

a willing spirit
tender compassion for the unseen and underappreciated
the way you help your sister

hand raised high to answer a question
silly silly silly boy
the way you look when you know I'm proud of you

sports in every season, your lefty golf swing
love for your friends
the way you pray and the depth of the questions you ask us

Baby Boy, my number three
Angles are your playmates
the way you made me a better person, and strengthened my character

Little tot, my mini coop
just a diaper half the time
the way you say your consonants and the sound of your voice

Occasionally stubborn and always smiling
music all the time
the way you sing steppy time, steppy time

joy and laughter
sweet and generous hugs and kisses
the way your eyelashes practically hit your eyebrows

it's always snack time
perfect peace while you nap
the way you want to be held and tickled and tucked in

"Fank you Jesus for Toopa!"
pitter patter of little feet
the way you say you missed me

Four carefully chosen names
my college sweetheart
the way God brought us all together

 

If Jesus is a Healer, then why is my child still disabled? Part 2: A Greater Healing

I joke with Ryan sometimes about going to what I affectionately call “crazy town.” Sometimes these topics send me there just thinking about them!  We laugh about my varying degrees of visitation there…am I renting a room for a few nights or building my own condo?  Should I hire a decorator for my new place in crazy town? But in all seriousness, the events at the Boston marathon yesterday got my wheels cranking.  And you know, I just can’t rest them until I write!


The bleeding woman.  I can't wait to meet her in heaven!  I really want to know what she felt like after Jesus said these words to her found in Mark 5:34, ^“Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” What did it feel like to look into the eyes of God and find compassion and mercy in a world where she was oppressed by judgment and criticism?  Trapped in her broken physical body and bound by chains of isolation, this woman was beyond desperate.  


If you are not familiar with Old Testament Law, her bleeding condition made her unclean in the eyes of God and her people. According to Leviticus 15:25-30, anything this woman touched was considered unclean, and anyone who touched her was considered unclean.  For twelve years, this woman had not been to the temple or been touched by another human being. I’m a girl who needs to be in church for a lot of reasons. I’m also a big hugger…no church, no girlfriends, no hugs for twelve years?  NO WAY!  I can’t begin to unpack this story in a blog, it could be a lengthy sermon series in any church.  The point is, yes he healed her physical situation, but even more significant is the fact that he restored her spiritually to himself and to her community.


I know, in my circumstance, it’s difficult to wrap my mind around anything that would be more amazing than seeing Abbey running around and chatting-me-up like a typical eleven year old girl. But her body, and this life, is not the end-all for her or for me!  James 4:14 reminds us of our life’s timeline with words that are all too familiar for anyone touched by tragedy or loss, “Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”  


If that makes you sad…I challenge you to dig a little deeper into the quiet spaces of your soul and ask yourself why?  Why should you be sad that our lives on earth are just a tiny fragment of a speck of time compared to eternity?  Don’t you see the great hope?  Do you hear God whispering to you, that if you belong to Him (BELONG…not if you’re a good person, not if you’re a great person, if you BELONG to Him) that the glories of heaven will unfold themselves more magnificently before you than the most beautiful scene you’ve ever witnessed on earth?   Greater than the thrill of crossing a finish line after miles of physical exertion, greater than landing the biggest account your company has ever had, greater than the birth of your first child, is knowing the one who holds the future in His hands and being fully restored to Him.  He who stretched out the heavens and marked its dimensions in space, who keeps storehouses of snow, and wove the fabric of your DNA together in your mother’s womb loves you intimately and wants you to know and love Him intimately. There is great peace in knowing that healing in this life and these bodies is simply incomparable to spiritual wholeness and rightness before a Holy God.  Christ’s work on the cross was meant to give life.  He came for the spiritually sick and broken. His healing hand upon the weary and disabled was meant to give just a glimpse of his mighty power that could, and would, defeat death once and for all!  


When I really began to understand it, this woman’s story went from making me feel sad to giving me hope and peace about our situation.  Of course I yearn for Abbey to be fully healed.  But, I’m so,  so grateful that he has a different kind of healing in mind for her and for all who call Him Lord and Master of their life. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can compare to this greater healing.

I love to peak at The Message from time to time.  Listen to Peterson’s explanation of 2 Corinthians 5:1-5. “For instance, we know that when these bodies of ours are taken down like tents and folded away, they will be replaced by resurrection bodies in heaven—God-made, not handmade—and we’ll never have to relocate our “tents” again. Sometimes we can hardly wait to move—and so we cry out in frustration. Compared to what’s coming, living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we’re tired of it! We’ve been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home, our resurrection bodies! The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what’s ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we’ll never settle for less.”


I was driving Jayden home from school the other day and out of the blue he asks me what our bodies will look like in heaven.  I wanted to say, “Well, mine will be smokin’ hot!” haha!!! But, since that was completely inappropriate, I managed to come up with, “I don’t know buddy…but the Bible says they will be perfect.”  To which he replied, “Man….I can’t wait to see Abbey’s new body in heaven.” Me either Jay, me either.  

If Jesus is a Healer, Why is My Child Still Disabled? Part 1

Mmmmmmm, it's Holy week!  My favorite few days out of the year, and a perfect time to post about the relationship that Jesus had with the disabled because he spent so much time in the three years of his public ministry healing the lame and crippled. Understanding Jesus as Healer has been such a tumultuous road for me...if ever there was an example of the "working out of your salvation," for me this is it!  This entire topic has tested my faith at so many levels, so many different times over the last ten years, and has taught me so many lessons about the character and kindness of my God. I'd love to share just a few with you.

Let's set the stage.  The streets are spilling over with people. I don't know why, and I've never been there, but I imagine a thickness hanging in the air. Amidst the smell of sweat and spices, man and beast, is a woman without a name. Jesus and his disciples are working their way through the streets when all the sudden Christ stops and says, "Who touched me?"  As my teenagers would say, "Um, is he for real?" Because everyone is touching everyone!  Not that kind of touch, he knows that holy power has left him. Read for yourself from Luke 8:42b-48.

As Jesus was on his way, the crowds almost crushed him. ⁴³ And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years, but no one could heal her. ⁴⁴ She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.⁴⁵ “Who touched me?” Jesus asked. When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.” ⁴⁶ But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.” ⁴⁷ Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. ⁴⁸ Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

You're probably wondering why on earth I would start with this particular account of Jesus' miracles.  Well, for me this portion of Scripture was the beginning of my own healing. You see, I had this baby girl.  She was undeniably beautiful (and still is!), and so very precious to so many people.  But here I was at twenty two, a month shy of being married two years, and with a two month old baby who had therapy four days a week.  I was completely overwhelmed and under-educated.  But I knew Jesus could heal her.

There was not a nap or bedtime in the first few years of her life that I didn't sneak into her room after she fell asleep and lay my hands on her tiny head to ask God to heal her. I remember one particular afternoon that I finished praying for her and found myself flat on my face in the living room crying out to God.  "Jesus, ooh Jesus, I'm the woman in the crowd...if only you were here, I would push my way through the crowd to touch the edge of your cloak. But I have you inside of me Lord, I believe you can heal her." I'm talking, full on hysterical.  Heartbreaking, right?

For whatever reason, despite all the many prayers I've prayed over these last ten years, that particular one so full of faith and desperation has anchored itself in my memory. It begs the question of why she isn't healed the way I want her to be.  First, it's important that I am clear about the fact that I'm not God and I would never dare to presume to understand His ways.  Listen to His words in Isaiah 55:8-9:

^"8 For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.
⁹ For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts."

Still, I think Scripture creates a beautiful picture for us about how Jesus feels about the disabled.  There are priceless treasures of hope and purpose buried inside our toughest questions for God! Proverbs 2:3-5 says,

^"3  yes, if you call out for insight
    and raise your voice for understanding,
⁴ if you seek it like silver
    and search for it as for hidden treasures,
⁵ then you will understand the fear of the Lord
    and find the knowledge of God."

Hear more about my hidden treasures in Parts 2 and 3!

What Taylor Lake gave me: Ben, and the importance of getting past the muck!

Muck...it's thick, gooey, and disgusting.  Imagine thinking you were about to dig your toes between the sand only to find what is commonly described as "decaying organic matter." GROSS! When I was a teenager, I spent several summers life-guarding at Taylor University's lake. For me, it was kind of a big deal to take the job because I literally hated that lake! I hated the fact that to get out to a certain point of the lake, you had to walk through muck.( I could also spend an entire paragraph on the biting fish, but that is not the point! haha)  Did you know that lakes with a layer of muck are also prone to becoming a breeding ground for leeches?  UGH!

I took the job because when you're sixteen, the idea of getting a tan AND being with some of your best friends all day is pretty great.  I was sitting at the end of a dock on that lake when my love for children with disabilities walked up to me.  He couldn't swim, but he loved the water.  I always kept one eye on the lake, and one eye on Ben. He liked me better when I wore my black swimsuit, so I bought two and wore one everyday.  I didn't even know what autism was back then, but despite all his quirks and occasional outbursts, I had this unexplainable affection for him.  I genuinely loved him...and sincerely wanted to be among his favorite people.

I always went to great lengths to talk to him, even though he couldn't talk, and to get his attention.  Then one day it happened...I was sitting at the edge of the dock and he walked up to me and put his hand on my back. He stood there with me for a long time.  I looked up to see his mom crying.  Apparently, this was a big deal?  I had no idea what had just happened.  What had just happened was my life changing, that's what.

His mom explained that any form of physical contact like that was almost unheard of, and then asked if I would be their babysitter sometime.  I was so excited!  We formed a beautiful relationship that lasted the next few years.  I learned a lot about autism, a lot about Ben, and a lot about what it meant to parent a child with special needs.  I often think back to that time and how it was  a part of the preparation I would need to be Abbey's mom.  It's a tender and beautiful memory for me. I think about the lake, I think about how I was just going to keep my job at Ivanhoe's Restaurant and not take on a second one because of some muck.

Muck. Decaying matter.  It's pretty gross.  You know what, sometimes I still need to get through the muck in my life to come into God's best for me.  That lake had a pretty thick layer covering the bottom.  I can't help but think about how much more attractive  it would have been if they had done something about it. It's not any different for me.  My life has layers of muck that blanket the floor of my mind and heart.  Decaying matter....things that are breaking down and represent death just piling up. If I were to pick it up with my hands, I think it would have that same slimy feel and nasty smell...it would seep through the spaces of my fingers and sink right back down to the bottom.  A breeding ground for things that want to suck the life right out of me, and fill me with all kinds of spiritual diseases.

I know God's best for me doesn't include muck. It has to be dredged up and cleaned out, because left alone it destroys the beauty my life was meant to display. I'm thankful that I  don't have to do that on my own.  Listen to what Jesus says in John 10:10-11, "¹⁰ The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. ¹¹ I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep."  I don't know about you, but I don't want to be held back by one who seeks to steal, kill, and destroy me.  I want to be in the safety of Christ, who came to free me from sin and muck, and to give me life "to the full."  

Do you want to hear something crazy?  I have a dream sometimes that I'm with my dear friend Christopher who passed away.  As teenagers, we were lifeguards together at that lake.  He asks me if I want to take a swim and we dive in.  The bottom of the lake is covered with gems, jewels, and diamonds. I just remembered that while I was typing...seriously! I don't think the analogy will be lost on you, it's amazing what God has for us if only we surrender our whole life to him. 

My reaction to her reaction...lol

So, it's been a rough couple of weeks for miss Abbey.  What started out as just a fever for four days, eventually turned into pneumonia, which then landed us in the ER with her covered in hives and cartoon-sized lips.

 When I took her to her pediatrician last Tuesday, I was not expecting the diagnosis of pneumonia.  In my mind, this has been hiding under a rock labeled "One of Kimberly's Biggest Fears."  I looked at our doctor and said, "I want you to know I'll be fine, but I'm probably going to freak out here for a minute or two....sorry for crying." haha  Lucky for me, I saw the female in the practice because she took it like a champ and handed me a box of tissues and laughed with me.  The men in this office would not have been as....compassionate.

When she woke up on Friday morning with giant plastic looking lips, I thought, okay now this is more than I can handle!  We took her down to the hospital, and were thrilled with not only the speed of care, but the patience and kindness of the staff as they got a chest x-ray.  We added and changed meds, and then went straight to the allergist.  This is not the first time that this has happened to Abbey, and I was relieve to find out that it is not uncommon for fair skinned (particularly with blond hair and blue eyes) people to have this kind of reaction to a virus.  Apparently, the virus can damage the histamine cells. The damaged cells release the histamines out to the skin and you see the hives.  My fears were completely put to rest when he explained that this is not the same kind of reaction as a food allergy or drug allergy where you would be concerned about her airway.  This is strictly a skin-response.   He graciously said, "Next time this happens don't go to the ER...we'll talk you through it and she'll be just fine. You have our cell numbers and we'll answer any day or night." ahhhhhhhh, such a sweet consolation!  How wonderful to know that he is just a few push buttons away if I need him, and that I don't need to freak out if she's sick and wakes up covered in hives.

I would LOVE to tell you, that when someone in my house is sick (particularly Abbey) that I have a faith-filled response.  That I'm the strong, secure woman I want to be. Reality could not be farther from the truth.  I will borrow a phrase from one of my best friends that could describe me, "She's a hot mess!" lol  Seriously, my poor husband and family.  The good news is, I eventually calm down and see things as they are.  I send my unshared fears away (hopefully for good, but sometimes they just go back under that rock I was telling you about), find my way back to appropriate and reasonable reactions, and start sleeping through the night again.

I have to tell you, I didn't know where this post was going when I first started typing....but I think it's no accident that I have been repeating Psalms 121:4 over and over in my mind at night. "indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep."  What a life changer it would be, if I could just get this truth to settle in my heart and not just in my mind! If I want a sweet consolation, here it is:  I don't need to loose sleep, he is THE GREAT PHYSICIAN and is on call every moment of everyday.  I don't have to wait in line, I don't have to pay to see him, I don't have to worry that he'll think I'm a neurotic mother, I don't have to hope he'll be able to figure out what's going on, and I certainly don't need to freak out!

Abbey's still sick.  She still has pneumonia, she still has hives, and we're waiting this thing out. We see the pediatrician on Monday morning for a check of her progress and lungs...hopefully, I will keep this in mind if things don't go the way I want them to.  Or, I may need you to remind me that my God is pretty big, that he can handle my hot mess, and that he doesn't sleep so that I can.

Lots of love to you friends! Thanks for all your prayers, meals, and messages.

Abbey,and an American Girl Doll

In 1986, a new doll was released to the public.  It was probably a few years later before I knew about them, but American girl dolls are pretty much the doll you want to play with if your into dolls.  I never had one, but when we found out we were having a girl, it was on my list of things I couldn't wait to do with my daughter.  A few years ago, I decided that it wasn't really a practical investment since Abbey wouldn't be able to play with or take care of the doll properly.  They sell for almost $100, not including clothes and accessories! 

Some time ago, we started getting the catalog in the mail.  When the first one came, I just threw it out like I do the letters that say, "you're daughter is in 4th grade, perhaps she would like to represent NJ in  Washington D.C. with her chosen peers."  When the next one came I decided to look through it and for some reason it just made me so, so sad! A reminder of an yet another experience I wanted to have with her, but wouldn't. (Self-pity is so attractive isn't it? lol) I decided Abbey would be my American Girl Doll. Her story is  completely inspiring, and she loves to be dressed up and accessorized!

But, Abbey is always surprising me...always.  This year has been especially exciting with her new school (PG Chambers School for the Disabled) because they are really opening me up to so many new "feats" for Abbey. 

I got an e-mail from her speech therapist this morning.  They added a new category to her i-pad speech program for clothing.  Here's part of the e-mail from her therapist.  "In speech, Abbey and I worked on identifying icons on her iPad and initiating more sign language. I added a “clothing” folder to Abbey’s iPad. When learning the new icons, we played “dress-up” with dolls.Abbey got VERY excited during this activity. I would tell her we need to pick out a specific article of clothing and she would find it on her iPad. If Abbey needed help putting on the piece of clothing I would try to prompt her to sign “help” and then find the icon on the iPad (i.e. “help (with) shirt”). This activity was motivating for Abbey and I was happy to see her progression throughout the session. "

At the end of the e-mail she included these pictures, and look at the doll she is holding.  You guessed it, an American Girl Doll! 

There are a thousand dolls they could have used and taken a picture of, but they used the one doll that opened up a tender spot in my heart.  It's like the Lord was whispering over me this morning, "it matters to me."   It just got me thinking how we never know what God is up to.  Perhaps there is a dream you gave up on, a goal you never reached or grew tired of striving after? Maybe you've been struggling through something for so long that you just accepted it would never change.  I don't know about you, but for me, this was just a little reminder of  Matthew 19:26 "Jesus looked at them and said, 'With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.'"  

 Hope you enjoyed Abbey's little success with me! I'll borrow a little letter closing from the apostle Paul.

 

^"20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, ²¹ to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen."

Ephesians 3:20-21

Is His Grace Sufficient Enough for Me? Part III

A month or so after we lost our son, a friend shared a song with me that changed everything.  I would play the song and cry and cry and cry, but I also found so much comfort in it.  I was thinking one afternoon while the tears were spilling down my face, that everyone who’s ever lost a child should hear this song.  No sooner had I thought that, did the Holy Spirit tug on my heart and whisper to me, “including all the women who have lost a child to abortion.” You see, in my frustration and grief I failed to remember that my calling as a follower of Christ is to love.  To love the way Jesus did.  My hate was my judgment, and I have absolutely no right to that.  Only God himself can see into the hearts of men and women.  He is mercy and love, truth and justice, light and life.  I can barely get out of bed in the morning without sinning!  I’m a walking billboard for screwing the whole thing up!  I had to humble my heart and ask for His forgiveness…and pray for him to open my eyes to see people the way that he does. 

Now my heart was broken again, only not just for myself…but for all the moms out there who have had to grieve the loss of their children in silence and shame. Here I am with a whole congregation and family behind me while there are women out there who suffer in complete silence and isolation.  I’m just devastated for them…I want to come over and cry with them, to share in their grief and loss. I want to be a safe place for someone to say, “I had an abortion when I was__. I think about my baby all the time.” I want to love people in a way that makes it very clear that my heart and home are a safe place to let your guard down.  I have so much to learn, so many ways in which I need to grow.  As Christians, we are so very comfortable with our own sin, and so uncomfortable with everyone else’s. We’re such idiots sometimes!  

I know sin is a hard word to hear if you’ve had an abortion.  Most people are very uncomfortable with the word “sin.”  Proclaiming God’s truth is a very unpopular choice these days, and I’m sure that there are those who will go to their own grave defending a woman’s right to “choose.”  The point of this post is not to try and change someone’s mind about it, but to share what the Bible says and how that’s affected my own life.  So, I will only briefly touch on why I believe that abortion is not what God desires. I’m certainly no expert or theologian, but I know what sin does to a person firsthand …and I know how Satan would just love to keep my friends and family in bondage to a choice they cannot un-make.   

The question of abortion for me has never been, “when does life start?”  In my mind, the more important question has always been, “when does a soul begin?”  I believe that is a question that only God himself can answer. Listen to part of Jeremiah 1:5 and Psalm 139:

Jeremiah 1:5a  “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,” (emphasis is mine)

Psalm 139: 13-16

^“13 For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.”

Did you catch that? God has accounted for our souls before we are even conceived!  

So where does that leave you, friends, who have had an abortion? I believe it leaves you and I hand-in-hand wading through the same deep waters of loss.   We are more alike than we are different.  I’ve shared with you my own weakness and the sin of hatred that I was wrestling with.  I’ve got plenty more sins I could list off if you need further proof of my complete inadequacy!  But, I found forgiveness in Christ.  I love Psalm 103.  Listen to this portion:

^“8 The Lord is compassionate and gracious,
    slow to anger, abounding in love.
⁹ He will not always accuse,
    nor will he harbor his anger forever;
¹⁰ he does not treat us as our sins deserve
    or repay us according to our iniquities.
¹¹ For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
    so great is his love for those who fear him;
¹² as far as the east is from the west,
    so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”

This is what separates Christianity from every other religion in the world.  There is literally NOTHING you can do on your own to gain Christ and eternal life.  There is literally NOTHING you can do to be excluded from his offer of grace and forgiveness.  It’s a free gift, and once accepted can never be lost.   

If you’ve never given your life completely to God, I encourage you to get down on your knees as I have and surrender it all.  If you thought that whether or not to have a baby was the most important decision of your life, you were very wrong.  This is by far the most important decision…with eternal significance. You have a perfect Heavenly Father who wants nothing more than to draw you up under his wing and to protect you.   In His great love, you will find a God who is big enough to take your loss, as he has mine, and make it into something beautiful.   But don’t sorrow alone…we should never sorrow alone.  I encourage you to seek out a Christian pastor, friend, or pregnancy center that offers post-abortion counseling.   Share your story and hurt, and be amazed as our Great God and Wonderful, Merciful, Savior comes into your soul and begins to restore what was lost. If you ever doubt if His grace is sufficient enough, take heart:

2 Corinthians 12:9

"But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me."

I’d like to leave you with the song that touched my heart.  It is by a group called Selah, and the lead male vocalist and his wife carried their daughter, and delivered her, knowing she would die during delivery or shortly after.  She lived just long enough to take some family pictures, and to change my heart forever.  This song captured every sentiment Ryan I have felt toward our son.  I hope if you have experienced an abortion, you will hear this and find healing with me.  I pray someday at the greatest of all reunions in heaven, we will be standing side-by-side with each other…and hand-in-hand with our sweet babies. 

Is His Grace Sufficient Enough for Me? Part II of III

Well, as you can imagine, the weeks and months that followed were unbearable.  The night after the funeral I couldn’t sleep or get comfortable in bed, and when I finally got up in the morning I had somehow thrown my neck out.  For the next week, I would sleep sitting upright because the weight of my own head on a pillow made it worse.  I went to a chiropractor for relief and while I was waiting in her office I stared blankly out the window.  Fall in this state is nothing short of spectacular. But when I looked out, all I could see was death.  Every plant, every blade of grass, every tree was screaming back at me, “See, everything dies!”  

My own body was in confusion…I delivered a baby, and yet there was no one to nurse.  The swelling, throbbing, and aching of my body were a constant reminder of my loss. I remember telling Ryan that I felt like my actual body was in mourning.   I had only one desperate prayer that I prayed throughout the days and nights, “Lord God in Heaven, have mercy on my mind.  Don’t let me go into depression again.”  You see, when Abbey was around two and we found out she was suffering from cerebral palsy (and not just a “developmental delay” as we’d been told)  I went into such a dark place.  I could write a whole different series on that (which I will at some point) but for time’s sake, let me just say that for someone who is generally upbeat and loves a crowd, the isolation and sadness I went through were suffocating.  I gained a ridiculous amount of weight, had social anxiety that at times kept me home-bound, and cried more than I thought humanly possible. I did not want to go there again, ever again. 

The Lord was in fact merciful to me.  Our church and the  community cooked enough meals for me to last two months.  I was amazed at how many of the older women from my church would come up to me and privately share their own similar experience.  Social times and media have changed so drastically over the years.  These sweet little old ladies were never allowed to talk about their pain and suffering, but they carried their loss inside for all these years, and then blessed me so much by letting me know I wasn’t alone.  My senior pastor’s wife had delivered not one, but three stillborn children.  In addition to her regular phone call, she sent little notes and handmade cards regularly for a very long time.  I’m not sure if anyone else has had parents and in-laws who prayed and grieved alongside their children as much as Ryan and I.  I read the Bible…I begged God to give me his thoughts and understanding. Not least of all, He gave me a song…I played it over and over again for comfort.  I still find myself singing or humming it from time to time.

God in his goodness tucked me in under his wing, and like a shelter, He protected my mind from the cloud of darkness that no doubt Satan wanted to spread like a blanket over me.   You may wonder what all of this has to do with abortion…why, on a week in our country where people everywhere are proclaiming  the right to life for unborn children, I have chosen to tell a story about a pregnancy expected, a child wanted, in what was the perfect and safest of circumstances.   And for that to make sense, I need to take you back to the day of our delivery.

Twelve hours or so after we delivered, I was discharged and sent home.  There was something else I was feeling in my heart that I didn’t share with you before.  As they were taking me by wheelchair down the hospital halls, I kept staring at the keepsake box they gave me and thinking, “I can’t believe I’m leaving with a box instead of a baby.”  I felt so much anger. Not anger at God for letting this happen, as some might expect, but anger at every woman or man who had participated in an abortion.  You have to know, this includes dear friends and relatives that I care about. I hated them…I hated them for giving away the chance for something I would have given anything to have. Only hours before, I had been caressing and kissing a frame that was woven together by God himself.  A frame that some people say doesn’t contain life yet.  I have a lot of friends, relatives, and former students on Facebook.  The chance that I’m not speaking about one of you is slim to none. And don’t be confused by my words…I’m not talking about “righteous anger” here, I’m talking about pure, unfiltered hate. 

Do you know what the Bible has to say about hate?  

1 John 2:11 But anyone who hates a brother or sister is in the darkness and walks around in the darkness. They do not know where they are going, because the darkness has blind.

1 John 4:20 Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.

And if you want to talk about something cutting into your heart, how about this one:

1 John 3:15 Anyone who hates a brother or sister is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life residing in him.

So I ask you who have been a part of an abortion, a question I asked myself…Kimberly Drew who was walking around in darkness, the liar who didn’t love God, the murderer without eternal life…is God’s grace sufficient enough for us?  

Continued in Part III