In a letter we recently sent out was a brief glimpse of this woman's story. Leah was kind enough to share her entire story for us to relay to you - the people that enable our ministry to be a glimmer of hope to people in their time of need, people such as Leah. Here is Leah's story:
On February 9th 2007 when I was only 24 years
old, I had an abortion. My abortion was so far extreme from the values and
principles I had been raised on my entire life and yet - there I was. Although my life didn’t drastically change
afterward, I vowed to myself, that I would never do anything like again. I had
always believed in God and believed God was angry with me – that He had turned
his back on me. I wanted forgiveness and even though I had asked for it, I
never truly believed that I had been forgiven...or even heard.
For the longest time I thought that my abortion was
tormenting me and God was allowing it. It was part of my “punishment”. After all, I had committed murder. I had
taken a life that was not mine to take.
In the same month as my abortion, I met a guy – but it didn’t matter.
Who would date me? Who would like me if they knew what I was capable of in
secret?
In the few weeks following my abortion my mother started
working for one of Pregnancy Care Centers in Southern Indiana; it drove me
further into my silent secret. With as much passion as my mom has for God and
for the miracle of Life, I knew that she could never know. I would never speak
of my abortion.
In the months following my abortion, my brother and his
girlfriend of only a couple months, came to my parents with the news that she
was pregnant. My father told the rest of us around the table one evening. I
darted back and forth between my dad, my mom and the reaction of my sister the
entire conversation - unable to speak a word. I was searching for anger, and
resentment boiling within them. Instead I found hurt but compassion, loss but
acceptance. I was baffled when they
began to pour out their hearts in prayer and love for them – accepting the
reality that despite the negative how’s and why’s of the situation, they were
praising God for this new blessing into our family. Again, I dove deeper into
my silence – only this time with a seed of anger.
I spent the next few years post-abortion trying to salvage
my life’s outward appearances by finishing college, getting married, creating a
home, and finding a church. Yet in my life, the anger that grew inside of me became
unstable. My relationships with my brother and eventually my parents felt the
brunt of that anger. I justified and managed my anger by feeding my thoughts
and opinions about my brother’s choices to my parents while making certain that
he knew where I stood. It was exhausting.
In September 2009, my brother married his girlfriend and
soon-to-be mother. It was a good friend of my mother (who was also working for PCC)
as well as my mother’s idea that they be married at the Memorial of the Unborn
Child dedicated to the Pregnancy Care Center.
I attended. Soon after, she gave
birth to a healthy baby girl who stole our hearts.
In November 2011 my husband and I became pregnant, and that
following January in 2012 we also found a home church. Shortly after my parents
wanted to visit the church with us, loved what God was doing there and decided
to attend with us as well. During my
pregnancy I became so engulfed in the development of my baby. I relished in
every detail. Despite my poor choice when given the opportunity before – I had
always wanted to be a mother. To be a mother has been my greatest desire. Until I became pregnant the fear and doubt
that I had about it was troublesome. I feared that I would have a hard time
getting pregnant if I were to even get pregnant at all. What if I was to only
carry one child and the one I threw away was my only chance? What only took a
couple months felt like years in my mind and I was afraid. Afterwards the doubt in my pregnancy turned
to problems with the baby, or miscarrying. At which point I tried rationalizing with
myself that if I were to lose my baby – that it would be fair and that I would
still be grateful. While driving one afternoon I looked in my rear view mirror
and saw the car seat and said to the Lord “If it is your will that I get to have
this baby – I will give him right back to you.” A promise I knew I would keep.
Looking back, although at the time I was sincere in my promise – I realize that
it was in some way a peace agreement that I was offering God. Not that he
accepted, but that in offering it, I was seeking acceptance and forgiveness
with Him. Our son was born July 27th
2012. Healthy and strong, weighing 8 pounds 10 ounces and 23 inches long. He is
the absolute joy of our lives.
That fall, still in my eager attempts to make things right,
I joined BSF (Bible Study International), the book of Genesis. It was but a few
lessons in that God began to stir within me. Something I hadn’t felt in a
really long time. I like to believe that it was because I was searching -
making myself more vulnerable and exposed to Him that I was finally able to
feel him. Oftentimes I think we cloud our hearts and minds in attempts to grow
close to God that His voice, His spirit is muted. One Sunday after service I approached my
pastor – having no idea why or what I was going to say – but before I could
open my mouth I wept and all I could manage to say was “I had an abortion and
God can’t use me”. With my permission he immediately turned and called to a
gentleman in our church who is an avid giver and volunteer of the Pregnancy
Care Center to come and talk with us. He told me of healing study that the
Center offers and asked if I would be willing to talk with the lady who leads
the study. Not thinking that it was healing that I needed, but knew that I
stepped out this far and to withdraw would be disobedience – I agreed. She
called that afternoon, and it was one the most calming and freeing
conversations.
I learned through the healing study that what I believed to
be torment was in truth God seeking after me. What I thought to be silence from
God was in reality me shutting Him out. The Lord was with me on the day of my
abortion. He wept and hurt for me, that I chose to be so alone. He ached for me
to cry out to Him. In the midst of my sin and fear, he longed to show me mercy
and grace. It took 6 years for me to finally listen and yet He was faithful.
The man that I call husband was the man that God introduced to me that
February. My mother’s job at PCC was more
than just a position. It was a way God was going to prepare her heart for
the news of my brother’s life choices and for mine. It was an opportunity to
build friendships with those who would play vital roles in the coping of my
brother’s situation and in the healing of mine. Dear friends that would know
exactly how to help both my mother and father, guiding them through the
grieving and loss that they would soon experience. I realized that the choice of my brother and
the courage to come to my parents was in fact more noble than I dared give him
credit for. That he did the right thing, when I cowered away and hid what I
done in secret and that my anger was because of me and not for him.
I quickly learned that the response that was given to my
brother from my parents and sister was the same response that was given to me
what I broke my silence about my abortion. They all attended my memorial
service for my unborn daughter and called her “theirs”.
I learned that healing must happen in our lives in order for
God to use us completely. Whether it be healing over a poor decision(s) such as
my own, or healing over something that has been done to you. Healing must
happen. I learned that healing is ALIVE
and “in color”. It means laughing and rejoicing, loving and uplifting. Healing
means taking care of yourself by simple things as going to the doctor for
regular checkups, exercising, eating well, giving of yourself, becoming exposed
and vulnerable knowing that God is faithful.
The most profound thing that I learned and understood is
that guilt is from God and shame is from satan. Guilt is what draws us to
reconciliation and truth - whereas shame is what keeps us in our silence. Shame
is lonely. It breeds anger and resentment, bitterness and hate. It cannot be
managed, it cannot be controlled… but God is faithful and eagerly willing to
use broken people, showing his mercy and grace.
My name is Leah, I am 30 years old. Wife and mother to
one in heaven, one in my arms and one on the way in
February 2014. I have been redeemed. I have been forgiven. My little girl,
Grace Marie has been claimed, and through God’s goodness and grace – I will
hold her in my arms one day, until then – I give Him all the glory.
