We may be the closest of friends, we may be related or this may the first time that we have every met - can I still call you my friend? I am speaking to you, the one who is hurting, the post abortive women facing another Sanctity of life Sunday, another March for Life weekend and the yearly remembrance of Roe v. Wade.
My dear friend, I hold you in my prayers during this time.
I pray that you understand that there will be words spoken this weekend (maybe not in your church, but during the many of the marches) that will hurt. That old rhyme we used on the playground about sticks and stones breaking our bones, but words not hurting was one big ‘ole lie. Words hurt and I know, well, that we take things personally that are not directed towards us. I will be outwardly honest (shocker) and say I am married to a man who is Pro-Life. We were married for 4 years before I shared my secrets of abortions. I heard many times how disgusted he felt about abortion. For years I translated that statement into “you disgust me.” I will speak for my husband here and say, he is still very passionate about abortion, but he had to love someone who was post-abortive to understand the other side of abortion. I am not saying he agrees or condones what I have done - I don’t agree or condone what I’ve done, but I hope that I have soften his heart some.
I believe the love that God wants us to have is kinder than most of the words we will hear through media this weekend. This weekend is a wonderful time to show grace - grace from both sides. Just as you wish for grace from the people around you, please think about giving those who speak (normally unknowing of your struggles) grace as well.
Personally, I don’t think you will face this in your church, but you could. I had the lovely privilege of visiting a church in North Texas that had a congregation led prayer where young women and men with black x’s across their mouths spewed statements that were everything except love and grace. This is the frightening image of “pro-lifers” that leaves me hesitant to attend any life marches.
Far beyond grace from your spouse, your friends and your family you need to understand God’s grace because you can only get through this with the understanding that you are loved more than you could ever hope for.
I have been blessed to receive grace from so many people, like I wrote last year (The Amazing thing About Grace), but today I would have only been a shell if I had not stopped fighting the gift of God’s grace. We always have it, He always gives it, but we fight it. We say, “oh you shouldn’t have, I don’t deserve this”, then we live life as an undeserving person or at least I always did.
Please do not think that I am pushing you to share your secrets this weekend (even though there is healing there - trust me) what I am saying is have conversation about those secrets with God. Don’t worry, he already knows every detail that brings you shame, but still sees you pure as snow. You can thank Jesus for that. That conversation is the first step to preparing your heart for tomorrow and the days to come - to make it through the marches and the news reports.
Know that here, in Texas, tomorrow and most days I pray for you, my friend, I pray for your heart. I pray for your pain to lessen and I pray for healing.
If you are feeling alone this weekend and need someone to speak with about what you’ve been through please know there is the National Helpline for Abortion Recovery and they can be reached 24-hours a day at 1-866-482-LIFE.
I feel like I should have more, more words for you as you face this time, but they fail to come to mind. If you need more please see these posts:
Yesterday morning I followed seven women and one man down the stone path to a pond, the same pond where my stones of unworthiness and un-forgiveness lay. As I saw them laugh together, hug each other and share tears of pain I could only think one thing, “Thank you Lord”.
My Loving and Amazing Father,
I don’t feel the words”thank you” even match the feelings for gratitude I have for the grace I’ve been given. And as if grace were not enough you’ve given the opportunity to take my stuff, my yuck, (with your amazing love added) and turn it into a story I get to share with others. You’ve given me the gift of words that flow so easily (at times) to share what you’ve done in my life. I’ve also received the ability to speak in front of crowds with pure transparency and oh man, I thank you for that.
I am so thankful for the opportunity to be on the other side of post abortive healing, that this weekend I was given the ability to serve women just like me. And that brings me to a big prayer of thankfulness that you have given me the ability to cook and to cook well, “or so I’ve heard.” I got to use that talent to keep the comfort foods flowing this weekend as these seven women and one man started the journey to healing. The same journey I took less than three months before. Less than three, months - amazing. I have fit so much into the past three months, I have prayed my heart out and trusted your path for me.
Now I ask you, father, what are we doing next? This servant is ready!
Rest? (that is seriously what I just heard as I typed that question)
I know you cannot mean rest from sharing this story, but maybe rest as in it’s time for some serious Sabbath. It’s time for some serious prayer about boundaries. It’s time to looks at where my energy is being applied and reconfirm that it is where You want my attention. It’s time to fix some cracks that crazy full living has put into my marriage, my relationship with my little people and my relationship with you.
Lord, I just ask for your guidance, I ask that you shine bright lights on my paths. A neon sign with an arrow, maybe? Sorry, Lord, I am just tired and my eyes are swollen from exhausted crying that took place last night.
The tears are filing my eyes again and I am filled with overwhelming thankfulness that I was there. That I shared embraces with people I barely got a chance to know, but know all so well. Eight completely brave parents who face the mortality of their children and at last, delivered them to you, for you to care for and for you to love. In doing so, they finally, finally, accepted your forgiveness, your grace. You strengthened marriages this weekend, You empowered women, You made some amazing leaders in the great commission. I know these are things you do everyday, all day, but for the past three days I got to see it with my own eyes, again.
Thank you.
With a heart overflowing with gratitude and love,
Your Servant on this AWESOME Journey
Not sure there is much more to say than that this morning. I am beyond exhausted, the most tired I’ve been in awhile, but as my physical body is dragging, my spirt is jumping for joy! I could go on, but really all it would be is a list of words like: Awesome, Amazing, Awesome, Awesome, Awesome…
This hymn was sung in the opening of our memorial service on Saturday. Even though, I am not one to always find joy in the sounds of an old hymn, this one rang so true for me as I sat in the back room of an old farm house preparing to speak a final good-bye to my children.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
It is well, with my soul…
And it was, so perfectly well that afternoon. I wrote that morning, “I can’t even put into words the feelings - like brightness, joy, just ahhhh…such a weight lifted, such a difference from how I woke up Thursday morning.”
New Heart of Texas Ministries, who leads, the Rachel’s Vineyards in my area uses Ezekiel 36:26 as their verse, it reads, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”
And that is just what the Lord did last weekend. Even though I have been through so much healing this past year, I still lived in a world of captivity because of my choice to the end lives of my two children. It was always the one thing, I could never fully forgive myself for. Friday afternoon, I threw that self-hate, un-forgiveness and the mindset that I am unworthy in a pond. Those thoughts now sit in the muck and mire where they belong, where they will stay forevermore.
Now don’t fooled, my three days were not full of joy and brightness. I will be completely honest and say I fought this opportunity hard. Thursday afternoon, I said good-bye to my littles and stood in the entry way of my house in tears because I just did not want face this, at all. I am so thankful for all of God’s beautiful creations that lined the highway during my hour long drive to the retreat location and the music of David Crowder, without those I would have surely turned around before I got to highway 6. I pushed through always keeping the idea of leaving in the night in my head if I needed to make a mad dash back to the safeness of my home.
Those thoughts were slowly crushed as I turned from one back country to another and realized i would never be able to make it out safely in the night (I have night blindness like no body’s business). And then I turned right onto a circle driveway and smiling faces ran out to greet me.
This is where I want to stop for just a moment and tell you last week my plans were to share every detail that I could remember, what exercises we did, what my feelings were during the entire trip, but I don’t think I will. Not that I am holding it back, not able to deal with it or feel it is too personal to share (ha! nothing seems too personal for me lately), but I want you to experience a Rachel’s Vineyard Retreat yourself. Yes, I just changed who I am talking to in this post. If you are not post abortive, then it’s okay to keep reading, I will be sharing more of my feelings, my healing, but if you cary the scars as I have then know that I am talking directly to you.
First and foremost know, please know, that Rachel’s Vineyard is a safe place. Each one of those volunteers love and care about you before they even see your face. They have been praying over your name, your bed, the materials for the weekend for days before you arrive. They want you to relax and let them care for you. This includes them parking your car and taking your bags which I have to admit had me in a bit of a tizzy. I stepped out of my car, well my mother in-laws car that she let me borrow, and was shocked to hear they were parking it and taking my keys. I just knew this was a trap, that they were cutting off my ability to leave. I sent a quick text to the girl friends and got a “I am headed your way to save you” response. Thankfully, I told her to stay put, but be on call. Oh, the seeds the devil plants in your mind about other people. The volunteers had no ill intentions and my keys were sitting on a table downstairs the entire time, I didn’t just drive up to a cult, I was being cared for, shown love.
That is another hurdle you will have to get over, you will have to step aside and let these women care for you. The women who volunteered to make us three meals a day quickly said, “do not set foot into the kitchen. Do not try to wash a dish or remove plates from the table once you are done.” They were there to be of service to us and let me tell you the food was amazing. AMAZING…mind you I will be exercising for the next week to make up for it, but I am strong believer in the need for comfort food.
Let me put another hesitation, or fear, at rest for you. At each retreat there are six to twelve participants and about six volunteers (eight if you count the women in the kitchen). We had six participants in my retreat and of the six of us, only three were post abortive. Now, that realization had me a bit sideways and very apprehensive the first night, but man the Lord showed me what a blessing those women were. You may ask, “Why would they be there if they had not had an abortion themselves?” Well, one of the three was a mother, whose, now adult, daughter had an abortion as a minor. This choice holds just as much shame for her as for her daughter, I fully understand that and I feel that with my own mother. The other two were volunteers from New Heart. It is required that if you are going to be any part of the New Heart of Texas Ministries (even an accountant) that you go through Rachel’s Vineyard. And I am telling your right now, they participated from the first activity till the last. They let go of lies the devil had tricked them into believing and they shed tears for things in their lives as well as in ours. On Saturday morning I shared that I was a bit sideways about having non-post abortive women in with us on our journey, but then turned to the woman who sat next to me and said, “but I was so wrong, I have been so blessed by you.” Know, again, that there is nothing but love coming from these volunteers.
One thing that I was told last September was that the women that are put together in our groups are lead by the Holy Spirit to be there and that was so true. I was given the opportunity to be a part of a group in November, but decided not to go. I am glad I didn’t, because the women I walked this journey with were who I needed, who I was meant to be with. One of my fears was sharing my story, which we all did. I was afraid that I would be placed with a group of women who were talked into an abortion during their teenage years and that they would never understand how I could be a repeat offender. The Lord calmed my heart when after telling my story I heard stories that so closely resembled mine. Thank you Lord for that. All of us, participants and volunteers, found so many similarities in our stories that by the time we left on Saturday it felt we were saying goodbye to family members and not strangers. I believe I can speak for all of them when I say, our lives were forever changed by each other.
Now, I was the first to share my abortion story on Friday morning, but not by my own volunteering. I fought the entire process pretty strongly Thursday evening into Friday morning. My mind was filled with conceit and I thought I was pretty much healed, I just needed a certificate so that I could help other women. I was bitter and not happy, but then during an exercise we had to answer, “Do you believe Jesus can heal your wounds?” I thought “do I?” and quickly answered “well of course.” Then I heard a voice in head, he said, “then let me.” In that moment I realized I had been my own worst enemy, that my “I can fix this myself” attitude was standing in the way of Jesus doing the work he needed to do on me. When I released that, tears flew and the exercises that followed built onto each other until there was just this overwhelming sense of peace - a peace I have not felt, ever. I guess you could say it’s the peace that surpasses all understanding.
In that moment things changed. The idea of naming my children, of being handed bereavement dolls and of writing a letters to my children no longer held fear. That fear turned into an odd excitement. I wrote Saturday morning that it was “still amazing to me that I don’t sit in dread for this day like I did for so long - I am ready, I’m ready to honor my sons and leave them safely in God’s hands.”
I don’t know if the strength of my words will come across through your computer scream, but I wish, my prayer is that you are able to experience this peace. I pray that you, too, will find the healing you need through a Rachel’s Vineyard Retreat. I strongly believe that this retreat is a must to aid the process of ridding ourselves from the shame, from the heartache we’ve carried with us. This has to have been one of the best things I have done in my life.
I am not fully healed, not sure if you ever can be, but I can say on Saturday afternoon I laid two small dolls in a cradle symbolizing that my children now live eternally with Jesus. When I faced my fear of making them mortal and allowing myself to picture who they were, it was surprisingly easier to give them to the Lord. In that moment I let them go, though they will always be a part of my heart, they are now a peaceful part of my story.
So, my friend, I want you to know that you are not alone in this, there is help and there is a ton of love waiting for you. I would be happy to answer any questions you have and would love to put you in contact with Mary Lee, the woman to whom I will be forever grateful. You can find out more about her and her ministry at www.newheartoftexas.org.
If you are not post abortive I still have a request for you, please share my story with others. You are welcome to share this post or the website for New Heart. Just please if you are ever sitting across from someone who wears the scars of abortion let them know there is a safe place of healing available to them. I so wish I knew about this years ago.
I look forward to the day when more and more women like myself are healed enough to share their stories with the world. I believe that we are the front line in helping others not believe the lie that everything will be fine once they leave the clinic.
I am so thankful that I was given the opportunity to go through this and I am able to sit hear today and say, It is well, it well with my soul.
Today I find myself nesting. I’m moving things around, picking up toys, doing laundry. I cannot sit still for nervous energy pumps through me as if I had just ingested fifty espresso shots. A plain cream colored envelope sits in front of me with my name written in a cheerful purple on the front.
The letter came in the mail last week and I thought, “Is it that time already?”
Tomorrow is the start of my time at the Rachel’s Vineyard Retreat. I have already received a phone call from the leader to “check on my heart”. I told her that the second paragraph of her letter that addressed the anxiety of this weekend was spot on. She assured me that I was not alone and that for the first time I will surround by other woman who share in this part of my story. She even expressed how I was one step ahead of her in this process, the first time she said the words “I had an abortion” publicly was at her first Rachel’s Vineyard Retreat.
Then she said, “When you leave on Saturday, you will be changed.”
Yowzers
Change is not a calming word at least not to me. I cling onto stability and see change as well something that makes me nervous. I hear, “everything makes you nervous” coming from my husband’s mouth. In this case, though, I believe my nervous-nelly-ness is warranted, but then Proverbs 3:5-6 runs through my head.
I glance at the bottom of my letter from Mary Lee and see a personalized version of Isaiah 43,
Dana, do not be afraid I am with you. I have called you by name and you are mine. When you pass through deep waters, I will be with you. For I am the Lord your God who saves because you are precious in my eyes and because I love you.
I am wondering if the memorial service that concludes my time at Rachel’s Vineyard could be seen as “deep waters”. The one part of this entire retreat that has scared the life out of me since Georgette shared it with me in September.
A Memorial Service is a special time when you, a child’s parent, give dignity to the eternal life and memory of your child in heaven. It is a time of lighting a candle in loving honor of the child that had gone to be with Jesus before you. It is a time of brining a precious bereavement doll to the altar and laying it in a cradle, the symbol of a grave, to tangibly help you “let go” of the child with dignity, entrusting the child’s soul to the Creator.
Sheer fear I tell you. I’ve stopped my searching on the internet because I cannot find pictures of any memorial services or what the bereavement dolls will look like, but I did find enough to scare me more. Not that I read anything negative, at all, about someone’s time at the retreat, but the process scares me. The receiving of a bereavement doll (or possibly in my case, dolls) the night before the memorial service so that I can hold a feel that which I had never been able to hold scares me.
But then this quote from Kara flashes in my mind, “Don’t imagine yourself (or others) in the future, because that is you/them, without the grace He will provide for that time and circumstance.”
I know that I am not adding a minute to my life worrying about the events that may our may not take place over the next four days and the feelings I may or may not feel. Today I am repeating some prayers for peace, I am holding tight to Jeremiah 29:11 and mopping my floors. I probably need to pack at some point.
While I don’t know if I will have wifi and I doubt I’ll be posting updates during my time at the retreat I do hope to write about my time once I return. I hope to document my journey and to help others who may be frantically google searching, grasping for reassurance that they can get through their three-day journey as well.
Please pray for me, especially for peace, for less shame and more healing. Pray that I let the tears flow because, well, this is the time to cry and I need to remember that crying does not mean I've lost my strength. Please pray for our leaders and for the other women who will be with me this weekend. Please pray for Matt while I am gone and for the girls during my absence.
This will probably be on repeat until I leave tomorrow afternoon
So lay down your burdens, Lay down your shame, All who are broken, Lift up your face
Lay down your hurt, Lay down your heart, Come as you are, Come as you are, Fall in his arms, Come as you are
Really, not sure if I even appear strong to you, but that is the thought that ran through my mind as I sat at my desk crying, again. There are more days of tears lately then happiness. I can’t believe I just typed that.
In an effort of being transparent as I walk this journey and as a plead for prayers I think it is time to tell you that I am still broken - I am still in pain. I really truly felt I was receiving healing through my writing, that I was embracing grace and forgiveness, but this past week has been horrible. I have picked fights with my husband, my children have seen me crying, I’ve slammed door and almost broken plates. I am not myself this week - I don’t think I have been for a month.
I’ve asked myself over and over, “Why am I so depressed? What is going on?” Is it hormones, frustration, or do I just need to shower more often (keeping it real with y’all). Yesterday, I had a phone call with the co-founder of Silent No More Awareness and without even knowing her five minutes she got real with me - I need help to heal. Even though I have given my pain, regret, and shame to God, I need help.
I think the first step to my healing is admitting that I am in pain. The headlines, the comments, the hashtags that were created this week are all too much for me to handle. I didn’t even realize that my scars were so raw still - I had plans to help other women, to show other women the power of forgiveness and grace never realizing that I again need to be reminded that I too am forgiven.
The hardest thing that I have had to do in my life is forgiving myself. To forgive myself and to mean it. To forgive myself and to feel it, let it sink into my bones so that I can no longer question it. To feel so forgive that the devil can’t do this to me - he can’t get a foothold on my thoughts and my feelings.
The lyrics of this song pulled at my heart a moment ago and wanted to share it with you, but I knew that I needed to tell you what is going on as I did.
Earth has sorrow Heaven can’t heal…
And because I am still me (on my mission to help others) if you are finding this and are feeling my pain, then please watch this video:
Someday I hope to tell Georgette in person how she helped me in one phone call that she really didn’t have to make. As you pray for me please pray for the women like me during this time.
For those you are strong in your Pro-Life Mission: I am fully aware that it may be difficult for you to pray for me and other women because of what we have done, but please know that I believe with all my heart that if we can get the women like me healed and able to share our message then we can be a huge impact in the war you are fighting. I heard Beth Moore say this week, “Nothing that sin can give us is worth what we are giving up” - I understand this, I feel this everyday and I hope to help other women to understand this before they take the same path I did. Know that I am not single case, there are countless women who have the same story I do - the same shame, the same regret and cry the same tears.
I don’t plan to take a formal stance and say “this is what I believe about the Plan Parenthood issue”. As I was thinking about it last week, though, I wrote this and want to share it with you.
I think the lie you tell yourself (and you believe because you so wish for it to be true) is that when you exit an abortion clinic and make it past the protestors (or others that are there to save you) that it is done. The pain is done and even though through the drugs they gave you, you still remember what just happened you believe that after a few sleeps those memories will disappear. You believe it because you want to forget this physical pain and you want to forget any of this happened - every bit that led you to make this decision. You believe it will be gone if you get past that sidewalk.
What women, like me, do not understand is none of that lie is true. Oh, you can push it down deep inside of you and try to keep it there with the help of drugs and alcohol (at least that was my story).
Most days it will not gnaw at you - you know it is there, but it does not encompass your mind. Even after you have accepted forgiveness through Jesus Christ, it’s still there. A scabbed over wound you think has healed fully.
But there will be days where it will be raw and wide open. A headline will catch you off your guard and you will think, “What did I do?” On those days you will question God’s forgiveness - how can anyone forgive what you have done. Seven or even 23 years later you will look at your reflection in the mirror with dislike, even hate. Then you mourn. You will cry. You will wish you could go back and change time. Then you will cry some more.
You wish the lie were true - just get past the sidewalk and it’s over. You’ll always wish the memories ended at the sidewalk, but it doesn’t. The fact that you have been a part of ending a life (or lives in my case) never goes away.
I can not take a stance about what is going on because I cannot bring myself to watch the videos. And since I refuse to educate myself about the situation I cannot express my opinion. I know that what little I have read made me shudder and sent my memory right back into that room. I am sorry, but if I stay in that room remembering all the details I will fall apart.
Please do not believe I am taking the easy way out, I have put myself back in that room many times. I remember the light, the smell, the entire event and I have worked really really hard to accept the forgiveness given to me through our Savior. They make a lot of things perfectly clear as you go through this, but the one thing they never really tell you is that it doesn’t end at the sidewalk - it is with you forever.
I planned on writing yesterday. I planned on focusing on how great Mondays can be and how they allow for a fresh start. Mother’s day was good, but left me a bit melancholy as I am still sorting through my feelings about my last post.
I’ve heard through the grapevine that people are really wanting to read happy posts from me and I do have a few planned, but today I need to get real with you, again.
I’ve kept an open dialogue with Shelby during this entire process and Saturday she laid a question on the table that I carried in my heart all weekend.
So in reality you have five children. You will see your babies in heaven, right?
A question that has haunted me for years.
This morning I searched the internet (hoping for direction to a verse in the bible) and saw that I am not the only one with this question. I am not the only one living with this pain. There are so many women like me living with the pain and morning children that we chose not to have. It’s sad, it’s heartbreaking, it makes we want to curl up in the corner and just cry.
Yes, I believe I will be reunited with my children in heaven. And to be honest that brings me sadness when it should bring me happiness. Happiness that God’s got them and they are perfect just like all of us will be when we arrive in Heaven.
My sadness is rooted in fear that is probably unjustified. Will they forgive me? Will they hate me? Will I know who they are?
I am not sure how the whole Heaven thing will work out. I don’t know why I see in my mind an airport terminal. My loved ones waiting at my gate and as I walk through those doors I see signs that say “Dana’s Family” and I am reunited with my grandparents, my family, dear friends, and my children. I picture tears (which probably is not right - there is not crying in Heaven, right?) and see myself hugging my children. “I am so sorry that I was so self involved, I am sorry I didn’t think about you and God’s plan for your life, I am sorry that I chose to let you go. I am so so sorry.”
These feelings made mother’s day harder for me then years past. I just was not feeling like the mother of the year (do any of us actually feel this?). It’s hard to have Matt tell me that I am a great mom because this year I felt like I’ve really failed two of my five children. I know I can work through this, I know this is part of my healing and I know that God’s grace can heal these wounds. I just really, really thought they’d been healed, but that question it got me.
I can say in the past week that I’ve held my girls longer, I’ve read even more books than before. I’ve given way more kisses than they want. I’ve spread love to five children through my three girls - not sure if that makes sense at all. I am thankful the God allowed me to have my babies and to get the opportunity to heal.
Matt shared this post with me last week, it’s a good one, but since this is raw again it’s still hard to wrap my head around.
