I Am Not My Abortion

Lady M came to our two-day intensive visibly heavy laden and in need of rest. As her story unfolded, we learned she hadn’t cried over the loss of her baby in 39 years. The dam broke in session 2 as she read her letter acknowledging her part in her abortion experience. Then in the next session another participant made the comment, “Sin is an action you commit, not who you are.” With a sudden force as light bursting through the darkness she hung her head in her hands and sobbed, saying repeatedly, “That’s it! That’s it!”

Group members gave her some grace space to process as we sat in silence. Regaining her composure, she shared with us that for the past 39 years she has lived as though her abortion was who she was. She has suffered many illnesses and has been riddled with anxiety to the point that she has been on work-disability for some time.

Is it possible Lady M had made herself sick due to the stress of living with her choice and believing she was horrific? She is an example of how it is possible to be forgiven, but not healed. Although a believer, she practiced negative self-talk, telling herself healing and forgiveness was for others, but not for her. She had clung to Jesus all these years begging for His forgiveness, but not fully embracing the gift of forgiveness God had extended to her. As a result, anxiety and illness were her constant companions.

The act of abortion is horrific; horrific is not who Lady M is. Abortion is an act of sin, not a person’s identity. Lady M’s eyes have now been opened, and she has received the gift of forgiveness. She will need continued prayer support to walk out her faith, as she may struggle with negative thoughts, lies, and arrows from the evil one. She and others like her need our prayers to help them put on their armor and engage in spiritual combat so they can stand in truth.

Some reading this might want to enter a debate over salvation – DON’T!

Simply rejoice!

The prodigal son’s father waited with expectation for the son to return. When he did, the father killed the fatted calf and held a celebration feast. Will you join in the celebration, or will you sulk with the brother who never left?

I’m headed to the feast of joyous celebration; I hope you are inclined to come along!