Category: Story of My Life

A Time Of Joy In Shifting Sand

What do I do with the baby?

The most difficult question for me … and the most often asked by others.   Some encouraged me that single motherhood could be done, others pressed pamphlets for adoption agencies into my hands during well-meaning conversations, and still more emailed or called to tell me of families they knew who were looking to adopt and might be interested in the child I carried.

Around me were women who had been blessed in single parenthood (while admitting to the difficulties of such an undertaking) and families who had been blessed in and through adoption. As I began to talk to people on both sides of the decision – the “keepers” and the “adopters” – it became increasingly clear to me that this was deeply personal and with a few very circumstantial exceptions (inappropriate home environment, no role models, no assistance – all in the case of single parenthood) there was no right or wrong decision.

I was (and am still) very thankful for my parents – during these days they were an almost constant sounding board for me. We talked through everything, and as I started to think through adoption, they were particularly encouraging and supportive. They also provided a bit of a buffer between me and my sisters.

My sisters and I have always been close and the news of my pregnancy had been an emotional and mental blow to them. …as well it should have been. In complete shock, it was taking us months to repair and rebuild our relationships and for me to regain the trust I’d lost.

So, there I stood, staring down the holiday season with major decisions weighing on me and estranged relationships to repair, my job still in jeopardy… and the actual physical pregnancy too. It was a little like trying to stay balanced on shifting sand. Everything always changing …

But then, a wonderful moment in the midst of the sandy chaos … my 20 week ultrasound.

It was a Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving and I’d invited both of my parents to join me – we needed a moment of “normal”; a moment of joy.

There are moments in my memory that I pray I never forget and seeing my first baby on the ultrasound monitor is one of those times. The baby was beautiful and perfect. The tech asked if I’d like to know the gender and on hearing my affirmative, told me that the baby was a girl. At which point, my dad (a father of four daughters) snorted and said “Another girl?! Ha! Just what I need!” in such a sarcastic way that I’m sure the tech thought he was the most sexist man in the world. But he couldn’t have known … this is just my dad … he cracks inappropriate jokes … some at the worst possible moments.

And so we laughed. And it felt wonderful. Dad was cracking dumb jokes, my mom was crying happy tears at the sight of the baby, and we were all normal in that moment.

But what do I do with the baby? Knowing that it was a girl and seeing the miracle of her on the ultrasound only made the decision ahead of me that much more complicated.

And though none of us knew it on that chilly, wonderful Wednesday, my parents were about to leave town for several months …

A Moment of Insight

The news was spreading, the grace was multiplying, and my faith was increasing, yet there was still a rather glaring question as I continued to think through my whole relationship: how did it ever go as far as it did?

Putting together some pieces
The news was spreading, the grace was multiplying, and my faith was increasing, yet there was still a rather glaring question as I continued to think through my whole relationship: how did it ever go as far as it did?

Providentially, on one particular Sunday, as I wrestled with the new concept of morning sickness, I turned on Moody Radio in time to hear Dr. Lutzer talking about sexual sin. His words left me feeling like I’d had the wind knocked out of me. He defined illicit “soul-ties” and their consequences. He then moved to discuss the outcome of these “soul-ties:” primarily a guilt, shame, and anger cycle and its devastating effect.

“Finally, there is guilt – the restless conscience that leads to anger and depression. Now many involved in an alien bond might not feel guilty at first. Because they have been starving for a meaningful relationship, their initial experience of intimacy can be so euphoric that they feel no remorse, no guilt, no regrets. But just like poison might initially quench one’s thirst, eventually the guilt and shame will be on it’s way…

“Shame destroys the soul by cutting it off from the graces that are needed for healing and restoration.”

Finally, he spoke about how to stop the cycle …

“How is one restored? First, by cleansing the conscience through the forgiveness of Christ.

“Second, we have to recognize the soul-tie for what is is: a demonic ploy to keep us bound, to keep us paying our dues to past relationships and past sins. We should know that we do not have to do that; we do not have to be held hostage to the past.

“Third, we have to break off those relationships that keep us bound; those relationships that keep us going back to the people and things that have us bound. For some, the thought for being free from a controlling personality, who may also be taking care of us, is more than we can handle.

“Fourth, you cannot do this alone. Why? Because the only way to break polluted soul-ties is to develop healthy ties through friendship with people and with God. We are to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, with all our soul…this means that we will have to break the power of seductive spirits; we will have to fight for our right to freedom from the influence of those who would destroy and defile our souls.”

[These are longer passages, but I found them so insightful that I decided to put them up in their entirety. They are part of the third chapter (“Breaking Soul-Ties”) in a seven-part series, “Restoring the Soul,” by Dr. Erwin Lutzer, teaching pastor at The Moody Church]

Accountability! It was like a light bulb! Despite my head-knowledge of being in a bad relationship, and my heart-feeling that it was wrong, I was too ashamed to say that I had fooled around, or that I wasn’t a virgin anymore and so I kept silent and continued in a half-life.

Final thought for today
I am now convinced beyond a doubt that we rob the church, our friends, and our family of an integral function when they are not allowed to uphold us in prayer and hold us to the higher calling that we profess.

Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.” –James 5:16

The Dual Road

In the weeks that followed my discovery of pregnancy, the news began to unfold – First to my parents, then my siblings. From there, it would go to my pastor, our church elders, and finally to friends and those who I wanted to hear this news from my own lips.

Coming back after an almost two-month hiatus. If you’ve missed my previous posts, you can read them here:

Chapter I
Prologue: It Confounds Logic
A Moment of Truth
Is There Another Way?

Breaking the news
In the weeks that followed my discovery of pregnancy, the news began to unfold – First to my parents, then my siblings. From there, it would go to my pastor, our church elders, and finally to friends and those who I wanted to hear this news from my own lips.

These were months of walking a dual road, one of pain and sadness in recognizing my sin and dealing with the outcome of it, and the other of precious joy and growth in the restoration of my heart to the Lord and the awakening of my soul to the Word.

To say that telling those around me was excruciating would be an understatement. I could not have imagined the crumbling faces, countenances frozen in shock, horror, even revulsion … and then have it happen over and over again.

But as I was emotionally drained in each discussion, so also was I being filled and renewed as I was drawn to the Word. [the italicized verse interspersed here are taken from Psalm 32 and Psalm 51 – two especially meaningful chapters to me]

God prepared my parents to live out what is one of the few nightmares a parent has regarding their offspring, and to love and guide me through the entire process.

Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man against whom the LORD counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.

I remember sitting in my pastor’s office – the pastor, his wife, and my parents. They were new to our church that year, and I barely knew them. And yet, words of insightful counsel and great wisdom flowed. One of my sweetest memories from this season came from that afternoon. Ending our time with prayer, the pastor’s wife, a woman I knew only by reputation at that time, prayed through tears for the life of the baby. She was the first one to pray for my child. How I love this woman.

I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,” and you forgave the iniquity of my sin.

Another moment that stands out in my mind from this period is a time with the church elders. I should note that this time was scheduled not in a spirit of judgment, but rather with the desire to counsel, assist, and plan. Throughout my pregnancy, my reputation and my growing faith and testimony were protected by these faithful men.

You [God] are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance.

So many phone calls and meeting with friends – even now they blur together. Listening to others weep, hearing condemnation and accusation as well as the blessings of grace, forgiveness, and love. I remember standing in a close friend’s kitchen and getting the sentence out. She rushed over to where I was sitting and, kneeling on the floor, grabbed me and hugged me. When she leaned back, I could see that she had tears in her eyes, but her words were words of love.

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!

(to be continued on Wednesday)

Is There Another Way?

This time period of intense wondering was exhausting. Before I could tell anyone about my pregnancy, including my parents, I felt driven by the need to understand. Where did my life go wrong?

This time period of intense wondering was exhausting.  Before I could tell anyone about my pregnancy, including my parents, I felt driven by the need to understand. Where did my life go wrong?

Did it start with petty childhood disappointments?

Was it years upon years of a Christian upbringing that seemed to me to only to be a set of actions? …another list from an exacting head who promised death and destruction if I didn’t deliver?

Then, much later, there was the fervent prayer that seemed to go unanswered —

Macular degeneration and congestive heart failure … a cruel death.  One slowly suffocates while going blind.  I sat by her bed almost every night my first year of college.  She was the lady across the street, my German grandmother.  She was dying painfully from the disease, and my family helped as we could.  I remember one night in particular–the nights were the hardest as she struggled for breath–I read to her to comfort her, to take her mind off her suffering.   This particular night, she’d asked (or I’d offered) to read to her from the Bible, from the book of Luke:

“Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout,waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. And he came in the Spirit into the temple, and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the Law, he took him up in his arms and blessed God and said, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.”

As I read these words, she stopped me, and asked me to read the passage again.  When I finished, she sighed and said, “I wish I could have faith like that.”

“You can, Oma! God will give you strength to have faith!”

She shook her head and turned away. “I’m tired now. I will try to sleep.”

“Please, God! Please save her! Please show her! She wants faith! Please, God!”

Within a few short weeks, she was dead … to my knowledge never having understood faith.

I had prayed! She had even said she wanted faith!  Why, God? Why didn’t you answer me?

Anger.

I searched for some kind of clue, as if a single life experience could unlock the entire mystery of my rebellious heart.  It had to have been that moment with Oma.  There was no other single event that I could point to.  But, truly, there was nothing. Though I could dredge up countless instances of deep hurt and anger–See, God? Look how much I was mistreated here!–there were no excuses.  I had no excuses.

I had made my choices.  I had used circumstances to allow the anger and resentment to grow.  In light of this, it really didn’t matter how I’d gotten to this point.  All that mattered now was what was still ahead.

Was there another way for me?  Another road that left the resentment and anger behind?  And if so, how do I get on that road after all this time spent in rebellion?

The only road before me was God, the very One I’d been running from.  There was no flash of light, but only a strength of silence, a single conviction: there is no other road.

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”  

Confess.  Repent.  Change.

“God, I’m broken before you …”

A Moment of Truth

There are some moments that are as clear as if they were 60 seconds ago.

I always think better as I drive. Driving and thinking. Normally, it’s a peaceful time for me, but not this late summer day.

My thoughts raced. It had been several days since I’d told him and I still had no concrete answers.

I’m going to lose everything. Everything!

There is the inevitable loss of reputation and standing. I’d undoubtedly lose friendships for the deep deception I’d played out. I knew that my parents would stand by me – because they’d always told me that I could come to them no matter what happened in my life – but I didn’t imagine for a second that our relationship wouldn’t be severely damaged. There was more … more than the reputation and relationship, there was also my job. I worked for a Christian institution and did not for a second think that I would be allowed to stay. I had only been on their payroll for two months and there was no precedence for my “situation” – which meant two things: no money, and no insurance.

The situation was so hopeless that I could hardly breath as it closed in on me. In that split second of thought as I drove I began to think that the only answer was an abortion.

I have to do this. There is no other possible way this will ever work. This will be the hardest thing I ever do, but I can do it and then I can move on with my life.

My palms got clammy. Can I do this?  I have to. I have to.

I’ve heard epiphanies often come with light and sound, but mine was silent. The next breath; the next thought.

No.  I can’t do this.

The answers were still miles away, but in that moment, the complete resolve of my spirit was much stronger than my weak and selfish will:

This pregnancy will not end by my hand. Every other obstacle can be worked out, but a baby will be born.

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