Yori’s StoryBorn in the very liberal country of France, I was raised with few guidelines, directions, or values. As a result, I became a product of my culture. I developed very permissive views about life which included being a proponent of the freedom of sex and the right for a woman to do whatever she decides with her own body.
According to the world, my life was quite successful. Being an actress, the influence of the show-business environment reinforced some of my freedoms, the consequences being early sexual involvement, pregnancy, and the birth of a child out of wedlock. As an atheist living outside of traditional values, I married and divorced several times. Another child was born from one of my marriages.
At a point, I found myself pregnant again. Being single at this time with professional commitments, my predicament was nothing less than “inconvenient”. Since in my culture abortion was an acceptable solution, it was with no negative feelings that I decided to terminate this pregnancy.
Instead of bringing relief, the supposed harmless procedure turned out to be source of anguish. Reoccurring questions would cross my mind that would leave me deeply downcast and confused. Why would we call a desired child a “baby” and an unwanted child a “fetus” or an “embryo”? Why would the mindset of a mother change the way a pregnancy is viewed and labeled? Why use the term “pro-choice” when the opposite of “pro-life” is “pro-death”? And if abortion is a trivial procedure, why would I, like so many women, keep it a secret? I could see the hypocrisy, but decided to shut down my feelings and go forward with my life.
A few years later, I found myself in the same situation, pregnant once more at the wrong season of my life. This time, I was determined not to allow any negative feelings, having rationalized that I could not have this child, period! In my mind, another abortion was the only option. But there was something bigger at work here. I came out of it in misery, as if clouds of guilt, shame, and depression had invaded my soul.
After years of trying to overcome persistent thoughts of unworthiness, I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. There was hope in a God whose existence I had always denied! It was hard to believe, but, since I was such an emotional wreck, why not give believing in God a chance? If it did not work, I would be none the worse for trying.
And so, I placed my hope in God! And so, it paid off.
It is only when I connected with God that I understood that, indeed, there was more to abortion than what I was told. It was God who showed me that my confusion was justified and that a mother cannot be immune from the irreparable harm inflicted to the child she was made to love and protect. It was God who gently awakened me to my faulty beliefs and judgments, and it was God who compassionately brought me to sorrowful repentance. It was God who mercifully extended His forgiveness, and it was God who brought healing to my wounded heart and my stained conscience. Without God, I would still be entangled in the maze of my tormented spirit.
Having many facets, healing did not come at once. There were several defining moments and milestones on the path to recovery. Among them, I had to acknowledge that I had never connected with my aborted children. In fact, there was a huge discrepancy between my feelings for them and my feelings for my living children. How could I be so callous in one case and so tender in another? How could I be so disengaged on one hand and so loving on another? I did not know it then, but, in detaching myself from those who were never given a chance to take their first breath, I was trying to dissociate myself from the pain. Alas, instead of releasing me, the trick failed letting my unresolved issues silently consume my mental health which led to deep depression. Consequently, it became clear that one of the steps toward healing was to reconnect with my two little ones.
As an atheist, I would have dreaded reverting to the source of pain, but as a believer, I knew that God was committed to carry me all the way through the journey. As an atheist, I would have chosen to shut down the voices within, but, as a believer, I knew that only the truth could set me free. Yes, the digging hurt badly, but, through the process, I have learned about the offsprings who are waiting for me in heaven. I gave them a gender, a name, and a date of birth. I cried over them. I mourned them. I counted my loss. I talked to them. I asked their forgiveness. I cuddled them. I embraced them.
God is in the business of putting the broken pieces back together. His plan of reconciliation is as mysterious as it is profound. It begins with our being reconciled with Him. But this first transaction is just the beginning of a surprising road on which we reconcile with others, with ourselves, with life, and with our messy past.
Today, these two little ones are mine. By the grace of God, the battle is over and my wounds are healed. “With man, this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God” says a verse in the Bible (Matt. 19:26). I can testify to that, and I can testify that one can become whole again after falling short of God’s plan for her life. I can also testify that, no matter our history, one can live free of guilt and shame.
God is the Master Healer. Who else better than He can mend our hearts and restore our dignity?
“But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings, and you will leap like calves released from the stall” (Malachi 4:2).
Jehovah Rapha: God, my healer
By JillWriting this for a web page is very difficult. It feels personally risky. But God has been preparing me for such a time as this for a long time. And, as I'm sure many of you know, when God calls you to do something, He is relentless. Let me tell you how God took my heart of stone, black with sin, and transformed it into a heart of flesh - how He brought me up out of the pit of despair...
When I graduated from high school, life looked really good for me. I had a great family (I still do), good friends, and I was accepted at a super university. I grew up in a home where we went to church, but the church we attended didn’t teach about a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I knew nothing of being "born again" or "saved". After my first year at college, I returned home to find that my parents had been born again. I remember telling my friends that they had turned into "Bible Thumpers" and that all I ever heard about anymore was Jesus. I tried to take it all in stride, but it was definitely a shock to my system.
The next fall I returned to college and continued living the typical sorority girl life. Life seemed good. I spent each night doing what many college students do - going to the bars and partying. Most nights I would end up at my boyfriend's house and stay overnight there. By the end of my sophomore year, I was 20 years old, preparing to study abroad in England, and pregnant—not where I had planned to be.
The Lord, in His infinite wisdom and mercy, has allowed me to forget many of the details during the days and weeks when this all happened. I do, however, remember part of a conversation with the father of the baby. I remember him saying to me, "I'll marry you if that's what you want to do." Not exactly every girl's dream proposal, but what did I expect? Besides, I didn't want to get married. I had gotten myself into this mess, now I had to get myself out. (Remember this was a non-believer's thinking.)
In hindsight, I see how much easier it is to rely on the Lord for help, because when I tried to fix things myself, I usually made it much worse. That is exactly what I did. I (we) decided not to carry the baby to term, but have an abortion. I choose not to say "terminate the pregnancy" because that's just a way to make abortion not sound so bad.
At this point in my life I was taking liberal-minded courses at a very liberal state university. In the world's eye, the living thing inside of me was not a baby, but just a few cells. In fact, that is exactly what I heard at the clinic. Now I know that at three weeks my baby had a heartbeat. At nine weeks, when I aborted my child, he had fingerprints. Yet I was under the misconception that as long as it was done before 12 weeks, this was not a "baby". That is how I justified my decision. Sometimes I think that, way down deep in my heart, I knew better.
I went to the local Planned Parenthood Clinic to see what I had to do. I never once heard the word adoption. I was never shown any literature or pictures of my baby's development. No one tried to counsel me in my decision-making process. I do not blame them, because at the time, they were as deceived as I was. And I'm not sure that it would have made a difference or changed my mind.
Four years passed before I started to realize what I had done. The relationship with my baby's father ended. I went through bouts of depression, although I could not recognize it at the time. I was heavily involved in alcohol and drugs. I was promiscuous and continued to make the worst decisions when it came to relationships. Then I met Russ. We fell in love and decided to elope. Not long after we were married, we thought that it would be nice to renew our vows in a church. So we started to search for a church in which we could get married...again.
While we were looking for a church, we found Danville (Illinois) First Church of the Nazarene. We were not looking to be saved or for a "church home". We were just looking for a building, but God had something much greater in mind for us. He had led us to this church for a very specific reason. Danville First Church had a very strong tie to the local Crisis Pregnancy Center and many people in their congregation were either on the board or volunteers. As time passed and we kept attending, I began to realize that I did not have what these other people had - a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Something was holding me back. That something was my past abortion and the fact that I didn't feel good enough to be a part of God's Kingdom.
On Sanctity of life Sunday in 1997 I heard my friend's testimony that forever changed my life. I will never forget how she stood in front of 300 people and confessed that she had had two abortions and had experienced God's healing. When she finished, the altars were lined with people, and I knew that I had no choice. God was saying to me, "If you are going to do this, it has to be now." I made my way to the altars, and for the first time gave everything to God. I finally realized that He still loved me and forgave me for everything. He was just waiting for me to come to Him - to accept the forgiveness. That day I started a new life.
I won't tell you that everything has been peachy since then. I still have deep regret and sorrow over what I did to my baby. But God is so faithful and He provides me with the peace that passes all understanding. Since that day I was saved, I have struggled with how God could have blessed me with four more children. I feel so inadequate. I will never understand why He chose me to take care of these beautiful little creatures.
Before I completed my post-abortion Bible study, I continued in my struggles with depression, grieving my child, and what I had done to him. After Caleb, my second son, was born, I felt this intense sense of how inadequate I was as a mother. No amount of organization, preparation, or education could get me on the right track. I tried Mom's groups and all the books I could get into my hands. It brought back memories of my first child and my abortion. I began to feel unworthy to be a mother.
You see, when each of us is forgiven of our sins, God wipes the slate clean. He throws our past sins into the sea of forgetfulness never to be remembered again. I had pulled those sins back to the surface. As Corrie Ten Boom says, he's posted a sign there that says "NO FISHING". But we often ignore that sign and carry the weight of that sin around with us. I was doing just that.
In the Bible, God is described as Jehovah Rapha, which means, "God, my healer." Isn't that beautiful? I had never heard that before. I knew that God would forgive me, but to be healed completely was foreign to me. It seemed like too much to ask. I spent several weeks in post-abortion counseling and education, learning what it is to accept God's forgiveness. I mourned my child. I dealt with anger toward the people involved. I came to know what it means to feel enveloped in God's love and mercy. It wasn't just head knowledge of being forgiven; it turned into heart awareness. I finally felt forgiven, and I was finally able to forgive myself. I was able to accept what I had done and know that God wanted me to use it for His glory.
So, what about you? Why are you here right now, reading my story? Maybe you have had an abortion and you are still hurting. Are you feeling like God could never forgive you? Maybe you haven't forgiven yourself. Maybe you are a single mom who chose to keep her baby, but feel alienated by the church. Maybe your daughter or granddaughter has faced a crisis pregnancy. Maybe your best friend had an abortion and is still struggling with the after effects. Maybe you are a man who was part of an abortion in the past. God is not only merciful, He is our Jehovah Rapha. He is God, our healer. His word tells us He is here right now and ready to take your pain away. He wants to forgive you and He wants you to forgive yourself.
As I was preparing this testimony and going through my post abortion Bible study, the Lord gave me this jewel from His Word. It comes from Isaiah 54 verses 4-5.
Do not be afraid, you will not suffer shame.
Do not fear disgrace, you will not be humiliated.
You will forget the shame of your youth (my emphasis)
and remember no more the
reproach of your widowhood.
For the maker is your husband-
the Lord Almighty is his name-
the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer;
He is called the God of all the earth.
Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank you that you not only forgive, but you heal us. It's all you, Lord. Nothing that I could ever do or say can compare to your boundless grace.
Lord, I pray that all who read this will not only receive your forgiveness, but also the healing that only You can give. You are Jehovah Rapha. Be that in the life of each person this story touches. In Jesus precious name, Amen.