My life until 2006 looked and felt like a roller coaster. It was becoming apparent to me that I had never dealt with past grief. At the same time I was beginning to come to terms with the role I had played in earlier chapters of my life. It’s not a pretty picture to see yourself up close and personal, warts and all!
Cary and I church hopped for several years, and we had developed a pretty sour taste in our mouths about “church” in general. We stopped attending for a few months (that was miserable). Then while having dinner with a friend of mine, she invited me to First Baptist Dallas … “just come and experience it,” so I agreed to go.
It’s easier to get out of a habit than making one. So it was hard for me to get up and go. But I did it … by myself (thanks, in no small part to the stubborn streak I got from my mom and dad). Am I glad I did! My first visit is like every visit thereafter … a breath of fresh air. It had been a long time since I saw people carry and study their Bibles, hear the Word of God preached boldly from the pulpit, and hear marvelous music wash over me Sunday after Sunday.
The first time I went I was looking for a Sunday School to visit. The greeter asked me if my husband was with me. I told her no, that I hoped he would come with me someday. She just patted my hand and said, “Oh, honey, don’t you worry, once we start praying for him he’ll be here in no time.” I joined in six weeks; Cary joining a month later.
But something else was drawing me to First Baptist. Since the early 90’s I was hearing more and more about the pro-life movement , fetal development and advances in sonogram technology. This was a haunting reminder of the abortion I had 1973. Up until the early 90’s I wanted to believe all the lies I had been told; I rationalized my decision to abort when the Chairman of the deacon board at my home church said it was “better to abort than to bring an unwanted child into this world;” I rationalized my decision to abort saying the “fetus wasn’t a life.” But with the technology advances, scientific data, and sonograms, I couldn’t dispute what I already knew in my heart … Life does begin at conception and is a gift from our Creator.
I started partnering with the Downtown Pregnancy Center, supporting their mission of saving babies and helping young women and men start families with a fresh start. I found a connection there from my past. That was the beginning.
Then I joined the choir, growing up in choir myself and loving the fellowship I had with my other music partners. That was the next step.
God was definitely doing a work in me. I wasn’t sure what was happening. Week after week I saw a “joy” in people that I didn’t have. Well, I wanted it, too.
I reached a breaking point one evening when the pastor preached on forgiveness and the choir sang, “I Surrender All.” As we sang that song, I could hear Jesus speak to my heart, “Debby, are you sure? Have you really surrendered everything to me? What about 1973?” That night I cried 30+ years of tears. I wanted to forgive myself for my abortion, but didn’t know how. God wasn’t finished with me, still chipping away at a rough exterior, but my “tough nut” was beginning to crack.
Miraculously, a slot opened in a post-abortion recovery program. I did not want to go, but am I glad I did. For the first time in 38 years I was able to breathe. I was able to say “I am forgiven.” Still regretting my decision, I no longer carried the guilt from it.
But it would be another year before I publicly shared the story of my abortion.
Tagged: abortion recovery, forgiveness, grief and loss, hymns and music, pro-life
