How could this be happening to me? Resonating through the halls of my heart, this question led me down a dark and lonely road of denial. I had been raised in a loving home. I knew better. How could this be happening to me? Albeit, my parents divorced when I was ten, and I became sexually active at a very early age; I knew right from wrong. I knew the right thing to do, but walking in denial facilitated the choice I knew was inevitable.

Abortion…how I hated that word! I didn’t want to think about it, but the fear of isolation, abandonment, and rejection held my hand as I picked up that phone and made a deal with death. Denial…It wasn’t happening to me. I wasn’t making that choice. I wasn’t going to an abortion clinic, not me! Denial shut out sound reasoning. Denial silenced my screams for the truth. Denial ushered me through the front door of an abortion clinic to end the life of my first child. Committing the unforgivable, and violating my own moral code, I chose to take (what I really believed to be) the easy way out.

Words cannot describe what I felt that day as I laid on a sterile table, knowing all along, that once it was over there was no going back. Emotions of this sort are hard to explain, even harder to feel. Relief was immediate, but not long lasting. I no longer had to bear the burden of being pregnant. I no longer had to fear being exposed as the girl who got herself knocked up. I no longer had to fear what the future held…or did I?

Remorse replaced relief. Before long my conscious began to betray itself. The truth about abortion was beginning to surface, and the picture was not something to behold! Guilt and shame loomed at every corner. A deep sense of loss filled my heart, and anger began to take root. I chose to cope by separating myself from my abortion and numbing myself to the world around me. The easy way out wasn’t so easy anymore. Like an open sore, pain oozed from my soul. I longed for forgiveness, a chance to go back and undo what had been done. The old saying that two wrongs don’t make a right is so, so true. How could I have been so foolish?

Fear over the emotions I was experiencing, or better yet, trying not to experience, led to further separation and denial. I struggled to carry on with life and leave the past in the past. A part of me stuffed the pain deep down inside. Alcohol and immoral relationships seemingly numbed the pain, yet in reality they just added fuel to the fire. I don’t think I consciously chose to forget it, but subconsciously I removed myself as an active player in the decision I made to abort. I told myself that I didn’t do it. I convinced myself that it had not been me who entered that abortion clinic. It couldn’t have been me – I would never do something like that. My pursuit to avoid the truth at all costs devoured my conscience.

Life after my abortion didn’t change much from the life I lived prior. Yet, somehow on this side of my abortion, I felt a deadness about my life. I was a white-washed tomb, a newly painted house whose structure was rotting away. From all outward appearances I was okay, but on the inside the truth was screaming to be told, to be heard. "Help me!" "Oh, please love me…I know I’m not easy to love...I don’t deserve love…please, someone please…" I needed to be forgiven. I needed my innocence restored. I needed to know Jesus. Yet, instead of embracing Him, I permitted a roller coaster ride of emotions to lead me further and further away from the One source of love. Before long I was back at square one, pregnant again.

What? Not again, how can this be happening again? Once again my heart was paralyzed with those same fears…isolation, abandonment, and rejection. But, as scared as I was, I knew abortion was no choice. What would that get me? Nothing. Heartache. Pain.

As I accepted this pregnancy, my life began to change, my heart began to soften. The wall I had built around my heart was beginning to crumble. Truth was shed abroad in my heart, and God’s gift of life was mine. I had a reason to live, a reason to have hope, a reason to try and "get my life together." And on December 18, 1993, at ten after one in the morning, my reason arrived. Her name if Madelyn. She is a treasure and reward. Often I look at her and think what if...what if…then a slight smile spreads across my face.

The choice of life was satisfying, challenging, and worth every bit of insecurity and uncertainty I had to overcome. Mine and Madelyn’s first few years together were not rose-colored by any means, but I had her and she had me. We were a pair put together by God Himself. Times were difficult; I could not be the mother that Madelyn needed me to be. See, I had not let go of the past. Selfishly, I put my needs ahead of hers.

Someone once told me that the pain of abortion ended once you had a baby. I believed it. But the pain didn’t end; it lessened, only to resurface at the most inconvenient times. I wanted release. I wanted freedom, but the chains were thick around my soul.

Choosing to run from the past, I continually sought to "numb" myself; looking for the quick fix. Loneliness crept in and consumed my soul. Heartache breathed down my neck. "When will things be ‘okay?’" "Will I ever be normal?" Haunted by the past, nothing I did made a difference; it was as if I were hanging on to it as some sort of punishment.

At the bottom of the barrel, eaking out a miserable existence, I was tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of doing it my way. Having tried everything and anything to lessen the hurt and overcome the guilt and shame, I took an honest look at my life… and asked myself, "Is this how you want to live the rest of your life?" "Look at what you are doing to yourself; look at what you are doing to your daughter!" It was the darkest time of my life, and looking back, the only thing that can explain how my life changed is G-R-A-C-E!

The God of my childhood was calling to my heart, "Come back to Me, Jami." "I love you!" Oh, how I wanted what God had for me, but I was scared! How could God forgive me? How could I forgive myself? I knew that I would have to give up everything to follow Him. My grip was tight, but at long last I chose to let it go. And, God used an extraordinary set of circumstances to call me back to Himself.

God brought people into my life who helped pull me from my self-protective shell. He put me on the path to freedom, although it seemed for every one step forward I would take two steps backward. At times I thought the pain of the past would ruin my future and leave me crippled for life, but God continued to whisper words of hope in my ear.

He opened my eyes to the devastating and life-crushing effects my abortion had on my life. Working through denial, anger, bitterness, then extending forgiveness, and accepting the choice I made to abort brought wholeness to my broken heart. One morning, as I was working through the steps to healing and wholeness, I experienced His grace like never before. Weeping before God and pouring my heart to Him, I was overcome; I felt the burden lift. I raised my hands as I sunk to the floor and cried out, "FREEDOM... FREEDOM… FREEDOM!" "Oh, God thank you for forgiving me and setting me free." For the first time in my life I felt free. For the first time in my life I felt truly loved. For the first time in my life I felt clean!

Freedom didn’t come over night, nor did it come easily, but ask me if it was worth it and I’ll tell you – Absolutely! I finally understood what Paul meant when he wrote in Galatians 5:1, "It is for freedom that Christ has set you free." Mourning turned into laughter; tears of sorrow turned into tears of joy. No longer did I fear the past; no longer did I fear the future. God’s love poured over my heart, and I was captured by His amazing and abounding grace. The journey to forgiveness and healing is long and ardent, but it’s time for our voices to be heard…Silent no more! God is sounding the call to freedom…"Come to Me…let Me love you…let Me set you free…"

Won’t you come! I hear Him calling your name, can you?

It’s hard to believe that it has been thirteen years since that day…that awful day. Never, did I believe that I would find myself in that predicament…never! Burned into my mind, that day will serve as a grim reminder of what could have been. Late for my period, I figured the best thing to do would be to take a pregnancy test. So, I drove to the grocery store and purchased a ten-dollar test, not knowing that the results would change my life forever. Shock, panic, fear, and a myriad of emotions gripped my heart as I looked down to see the two blue lines. Confirmation. I was pregnant.

How could this be happening to me? Resonating through the halls of my heart, this question led me down a dark and lonely road of denial. I had been raised in a loving home. I knew better. How could this be happening to me? Albeit, my parents divorced when I was ten, and I became sexually active at a very early age; I knew right from wrong. I knew the right thing to do, but walking in denial facilitated the choice I knew was inevitable.

Abortion…how I hated that word! I didn’t want to think about it, but the fear of isolation, abandonment, and rejection held my hand as I picked up that phone and made a deal with death. Denial…It wasn’t happening to me. I wasn’t making that choice. I wasn’t going to an abortion clinic, not me! Denial shut out sound reasoning. Denial silenced my screams for the truth. Denial ushered me through the front door of an abortion clinic to end the life of my first child. Committing the unforgivable, and violating my own moral code, I chose to take (what I really believed to be) the easy way out.

Words cannot describe what I felt that day as I laid on a sterile table, knowing all along, that once it was over there was no going back. Emotions of this sort are hard to explain, even harder to feel. Relief was immediate, but not long lasting. I no longer had to bear the burden of being pregnant. I no longer had to fear being exposed as the girl who got herself knocked up. I no longer had to fear what the future held…or did I?

Remorse replaced relief. Before long my conscious began to betray itself. The truth about abortion was beginning to surface, and the picture was not something to behold! Guilt and shame loomed at every corner. A deep sense of loss filled my heart, and anger began to take root. I chose to cope by separating myself from my abortion and numbing myself to the world around me. The easy way out wasn’t so easy anymore. Like an open sore, pain oozed from my soul. I longed for forgiveness, a chance to go back and undo what had been done. The old saying that two wrongs don’t make a right is so, so true. How could I have been so foolish?

Fear over the emotions I was experiencing, or better yet, trying not to experience, led to further separation and denial. I struggled to carry on with life and leave the past in the past. A part of me stuffed the pain deep down inside. Alcohol and immoral relationships seemingly numbed the pain, yet in reality they just added fuel to the fire. I don’t think I consciously chose to forget it, but subconsciously I removed myself as an active player in the decision I made to abort. I told myself that I didn’t do it. I convinced myself that it had not been me who entered that abortion clinic. It couldn’t have been me – I would never do something like that. My pursuit to avoid the truth at all costs devoured my conscience.

Life after my abortion didn’t change much from the life I lived prior. Yet, somehow on this side of my abortion, I felt a deadness about my life. I was a white-washed tomb, a newly painted house whose structure was rotting away. From all outward appearances I was okay, but on the inside the truth was screaming to be told, to be heard. "Help me!" "Oh, please love me…I know I’m not easy to love...I don’t deserve love…please, someone please…" I needed to be forgiven. I needed my innocence restored. I needed to know Jesus. Yet, instead of embracing Him, I permitted a roller coaster ride of emotions to lead me further and further away from the One source of love. Before long I was back at square one, pregnant again.

What? Not again, how can this be happening again? Once again my heart was paralyzed with those same fears…isolation, abandonment, and rejection. But, as scared as I was, I knew abortion was no choice. What would that get me? Nothing. Heartache. Pain.

As I accepted this pregnancy, my life began to change, my heart began to soften. The wall I had built around my heart was beginning to crumble. Truth was shed abroad in my heart, and God’s gift of life was mine. I had a reason to live, a reason to have hope, a reason to try and "get my life together." And on December 18, 1993, at ten after one in the morning, my reason arrived. Her name if Madelyn. She is a treasure and reward. Often I look at her and think what if...what if…then a slight smile spreads across my face.

The choice of life was satisfying, challenging, and worth every bit of insecurity and uncertainty I had to overcome. Mine and Madelyn’s first few years together were not rose-colored by any means, but I had her and she had me. We were a pair put together by God Himself. Times were difficult; I could not be the mother that Madelyn needed me to be. See, I had not let go of the past. Selfishly, I put my needs ahead of hers.

Someone once told me that the pain of abortion ended once you had a baby. I believed it. But the pain didn’t end; it lessened, only to resurface at the most inconvenient times. I wanted release. I wanted freedom, but the chains were thick around my soul.

Choosing to run from the past, I continually sought to "numb" myself; looking for the quick fix. Loneliness crept in and consumed my soul. Heartache breathed down my neck. "When will things be ‘okay?’" "Will I ever be normal?" Haunted by the past, nothing I did made a difference; it was as if I were hanging on to it as some sort of punishment.

At the bottom of the barrel, eaking out a miserable existence, I was tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of doing it my way. Having tried everything and anything to lessen the hurt and overcome the guilt and shame, I took an honest look at my life… and asked myself, "Is this how you want to live the rest of your life?" "Look at what you are doing to yourself; look at what you are doing to your daughter!" It was the darkest time of my life, and looking back, the only thing that can explain how my life changed is G-R-A-C-E!

The God of my childhood was calling to my heart, "Come back to Me, Jami." "I love you!" Oh, how I wanted what God had for me, but I was scared! How could God forgive me? How could I forgive myself? I knew that I would have to give up everything to follow Him. My grip was tight, but at long last I chose to let it go. And, God used an extraordinary set of circumstances to call me back to Himself.

God brought people into my life who helped pull me from my self-protective shell. He put me on the path to freedom, although it seemed for every one step forward I would take two steps backward. At times I thought the pain of the past would ruin my future and leave me crippled for life, but God continued to whisper words of hope in my ear.

He opened my eyes to the devastating and life-crushing effects my abortion had on my life. Working through denial, anger, bitterness, then extending forgiveness, and accepting the choice I made to abort brought wholeness to my broken heart. One morning, as I was working through the steps to healing and wholeness, I experienced His grace like never before. Weeping before God and pouring my heart to Him, I was overcome; I felt the burden lift. I raised my hands as I sunk to the floor and cried out, "FREEDOM... FREEDOM… FREEDOM!" "Oh, God thank you for forgiving me and setting me free." For the first time in my life I felt free. For the first time in my life I felt truly loved. For the first time in my life I felt clean!

Freedom didn’t come over night, nor did it come easily, but ask me if it was worth it and I’ll tell you – Absolutely! I finally understood what Paul meant when he wrote in Galatians 5:1, "It is for freedom that Christ has set you free." Mourning turned into laughter; tears of sorrow turned into tears of joy. No longer did I fear the past; no longer did I fear the future. God’s love poured over my heart, and I was captured by His amazing and abounding grace. The journey to forgiveness and healing is long and ardent, but it’s time for our voices to be heard…Silent no more! God is sounding the call to freedom…"Come to Me…let Me love you…let Me set you free…"

Won’t you come! I hear Him calling your name, can you?