I want to share a rather disorganized follow up to All Babies are Wanted is the Worst Pro-Life Argument which I wrote a few weeks ago. I am truly moved by the images
of these 7 and 8 week old miscarried babies (originally posted on Mindy Raelynn Danison's facebook page), and touched by the courage of the mother for
sharing them. It breaks my heart that
the reason for these photos is because these babies passed away.
However, it is incredible to see what I’ve only seen before on ultrasound... I’ve
shared before that I first saw my baby at 7-weeks-old via ultrasound. I had
received a pregnancy test a week before, and it didn’t feel real at all until I
saw the fast flicker of a beating heart, a little hummingbird heart, I called
it. Before the ultrasound, it still felt like just a “pregnancy”; honestly, it felt like it was just a condition, a
UTI or a toothache that my body was going through. I did not feel motherly. But suddenly, in the ultrasound, pardon my french, shit got real.
It
is all a blur now, but in my counseling session I remember refusing to hear about abortion, while saying
repeatedly, “I understand why women get abortions now”. Before all of this, two
acquaintances had come to me and shared with me that they received abortions; It felt so
random that they would tell me this news, and I experienced grief and compassion
for them that I had never felt before. I don’t believe it’s right or any woman's best option, but I still understand- I “feel”-, why women get abortions now—As a girl pretending to be what I thought
was the definition of a Christian, I still remember the feeling of panic, fear, shame, longing to "erase
this mistake", depression, hopelessness, loneliness, abandonment, and my own unyielding, persistent sense of selfishness of not wanting to have to give up
everything— and this is why it bothers me when people say I am “brave” and a hero for “choosing
life”.
There were understandably many suggestions to place her for adoption; there was huge amounts of stress, the father wasn’t sticking around, and
everyone was generally discouraged and upset about my pregnancy. However, NO ONE was
threatening me, coercing me, or telling me to get an abortion, unlike so many
other women. I wasn’t sitting there thinking, “I’m
getting an abortion now”, I was sitting there thinking, "Oh, #%$%". To be totally honest with you, and as painful as this is to admit (now, at the time it was a perfectly acceptable thought), there were days where I wholeheartedly wished for a miscarriage so that "it"--my baby-- could die at the hands of God, and not mine (ahem, this is not a heroic thought). But back in the clinic on the day of my ultrasound, I could see a way out, and my way out was to move
away from old patterns, get away from my negative relationship with her father, get out of the
area where my abuser (an ex-boyfriend, not her dad) lived, stop alcohol and
drug use as a coping method for pain, and try to better my life. Something that was less of a priority, but still on my list, was to "find God". I'm proud of that decision to move away. It was courageous. It was the hardest I've ever made; I guess it's heroic in my book.
I was fully supported 100% by
hundreds of people in this choice. They said: We will walk beside you. We will hold your hand. Whatever we need to be for you, we will be for
you. They are the heroes.
What would it be like to see more passion about pursuing relationships with young people who are "not doing well” (whatever that looks like to us),
especially those within the church. You know them... the ones that avoid eye contact, the ones “acting rebellious” or whatever term you want to use, the ones breaking the rules, having sex, flirting, asking for attention, wearing black, showing skin, dyeing their hair blue, whatever they are
doing that appears to be bad. As one of my older friends said in reference to my "rebellion" and pregnancy, "I could see it coming since you were in elementary school." I clearly remember moving back to Moscow with baby-in-tow, and being told by a well-meaning church lady, “A few years ago, I remember seeing you and thinking ‘Wow, she looks like she is doing so badly’. But now, you’re doing great! Do you want to come over for dinner?!” It was hard for me to not say my angry response, “Well, why didn’t you invite me over for dinner back then?”
I’m no longer angry and just have to laugh at that scenario, but I am disheartened. What would it be like to overlook behavioral issues for the moment, while we are in pursuit of a connection and relationship, so that
the HEART issues can be revealed, so that trust can be built, so that vulnerability can happen, so that Jesus has a chance to move through our hearts
and hands.
Why don’t we invite “them” over for dinner now?
Please don’t think I’m blaming everyone else for my own sin. I repeatedly hurt and damaged my own family and friends; I pushed them away…my heart was so hard. At the same time there was this longing in me to be unconditionally loved, to fill the hole in my heart, to find a place to rest and just be. I hated myself and everything about myself; I was mean and cruel to those who tried to love me. And there were so many people who did try their hardest to love me. All I am saying, and this is for myself as well, is can we please try to look past the outward things we see, to look on into the secret, hidden, broken hearts. Can we try not to judge behavior? As I said before,
What would it be like to overlook behavioral issues for the moment, while we are in pursuit of a connection and relationship, so that the HEART issues can be revealed, so that trust can be built, so that vulnerability can happen, so that Jesus has a chance to move through our hearts and hands.
For those of you who have been hurt by the church or by others, I’m so sorry. I am so, so, sorry. I know the sting, the
pain, the tears, the bitterness, the helplessness of being a victim of people who claim that they are God’s people. I know what it feels like to be a victim of people who have psychologically, emotionally,
spiritually, or sexually harmed you. I have experienced each type of hurt. Please talk to me more
about that in person, if you can.
But I want you to know that when you say yes, God
will give you the grace to let it go, and He will provide the healing that
follows. You are right, it is impossible to forgive people. There's no psychology book,
no science, no “time heals” message, there’s no “being the bigger person”, “letting
it go” (sorry, Elsa...), nothing that can help you forgive... Why? Because
forgiveness is not human. And I can say from experience that it is so sweet to
forgive... It is so freeing to walk around without the weight of un-forgiveness
on your shoulders dragging you down. Remember, they are just humans. We are
just human. We all have the capacity to damage each other- to inflict burning,
venomous wounds. And God.. He has the ability to take us for a ride,
a ride that will shake us to our core, clean us out, and redeem that pain. I am
sorry if it feels like I am glossing over the pain you are experiencing now,
but believe me I can understand (again, please ask me in person).
In closing, thank you for reading this. I love you. I love
you for caring. I love you for trying.
Surrender.. to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling..
to Him who declares that He is “the God who sees”, to Him who will wash you
whiter than snow, to Him who loves you regardless of any failings…to Him who will
NEVER leave you...
Food for thought:
Food for thought:
The Lord will guide you continually, giving you water when you are dry and restoring your strength. You will be like a well-watered garden, like an ever flowing spring. Some of you will build the deserted ruins of your cities. Then you will be known as a rebuilder of walls and a restorer of humans. Isaiah 58:11-12, NLT
So humble yourselves before God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come close to God, and God will come close to you. James 4:7-8
Apologies for this rather disoriented post, I'm on painkillers and it's been quite a week!!!
Baby A at 22 weeks old in utero, 11 weeks old in utero, 5 months old, 15 months old, 2 1/2 years old. My little human. My little hero.
This is so beautiful. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThank you for such an incredible post. You have a piercing, beautiful, real, raw perspective that is hard to find. It struck me deeply when you said that it bothers you when people call you "brave" or "a hero" for choosing life because in truth you were so selfish in the moment, not wanting to give up great portions of your life for a baby. But it seems to me that bravery is not a feeling, but rather a "doing" in spite of one's feelings. And that's exactly what you did- you made a self-sacrificial choice in spite of your own feelings and desires, wishes and dreams. And you have continued to make that same choice every day since. I've seen how you constantly go without so she gets what she needs, in spite of the full gamut of feelings (some pleasant and some MUCH more challenging) that every mother experiences on the journey through motherhood. You truly ARE brave, because you choose to love and care for another human being, mostly single-handedly, day in and day out, even though it means you rarely get all you need yourself. That is a very daunting task to face on a daily basis. But you do, and you do it well, and you do it bravely, and you do it beautifully. Remember when you said you wished to see more people reaching out to others in need instead of turning a blind eye and maintaining their own status quo in self-righteous comfort and denial? You ARE that life-changing person, and you DO that love every day, both in and out of your own home, with your daughter and with everyone else you meet, including me :) You, my friend, truly are brave, consistently loving and meeting A's needs even when they feel in direct competition with your own. It doesn't take an impeccable set of attractive-looking feelings to be brave, but you do have to show up. And I love the way you show up just as you are even on the occasions when it is so difficult and exhausting to do so.
ReplyDeleteWhile living in Alaska (having run from an overwhelming amount of my own pain at the time) I met a mountain man who recited a beautiful poem to me, written by a woman named Oriah Mountain Dreamer. The poem is called "The Invitation" and I've included the whole thing below because it is so beautiful. But there is one part in particular, however, that makes me think of you:
"It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children."
I have seen you, weary and bruised, doing what needs to be done to love on A. That takes courage and tenacity. You ARE brave. And I not only see the courage it takes to do what is necessary to meet her needs, but I also see the exquisite beauty that is blooming from your costly, constant investment. What a gem, what a priceless treasure you have in A! And what a remarkable gift she has in a mama like you. You are crafting a breathtaking masterpiece of a mosaic from the broken pieces around you. You are a picture of Christ, taking the broken and making things new. I am so honored to know you. You are exquisite, just as you are, right where you are. Thank you for all that you are, and for all that you do. Thank you for being perfectly you :) You have my deepest, utmost admiration and respect.
THE INVITATION
ReplyDeleteIt doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become
shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain , mine or your own
without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy
fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic,
to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day.
And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
That is so beautiful. I can't stop re-reading it. Thank you so much.
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