But it will be waaay less than an ABC Family
And names have been semi-changed to protect the blah-blah…
Pro-Life. Pro-Choice. Sometimes Pro-Life. Sometimes Pro-Choice. So many social media posts. Everyone has an opinion. I have an opinion. I have friends and family that fall on both sides of the fence. Even though we may not agree I know they didn’t come to their decision lightly. I didn’t come to my belief just because someone else told me that’s the way I should think or because I haven’t given it much thought. What I believe may not be so surprising. Why I believe it may be a little more so. It was a hard slap in my face the day I came to fully believe the way I do. It was a time, a day, a moment, I will never forget.
Since the whole Hobby Lobby hullabaloo I thought I’d get my views all out in the open. Ruffle some feathers.
I love to ruffle feathers. Whatever side you fall on it’s time to admit that your side has some haters. My side has some haters. And it’s probably time we all admit that hating isn’t getting us anywhere. Signs and candles along the highway are really not getting us anywhere. So here’s my side of the debate …
I’m going to start where any good pro-life or pro-choice debate starts … with a pregnancy. Some know the vague details of my teenage pregnancy but I’m going to take you back to the end of that pregnancy. The beginning was like most teenage pregnancies, unplanned. But the ending was also unexpected. Typically it’s called a miscarriage. If you take a peek into my medical records the medical terminology of my 12 week miscarriage will read, “spontaneous abortion”. Alarming wording for even a prepared girl. Some miscarriages one can see coming; they aren’t so spontaneous. Mine was definitely spontaneous. While I had some warning signs, once it started there was no stopping it. Let’s just say, more than my dignity was left in the Emergency Room that day. There at the wise beyond my years, but still pretty stupid, age of 18, I was left alone with strangers. One was a Heaven-sent nurse named Mary, the other a callous doctor. As I lay on a table filled with fear about what was going to happen next, Nurse Mary stood by my side through the next hours explaining everything I questioned. Preparing me in every way she could. That callous doctor helped shaped my views on where life begins. I already had a viewpoint. A true abortion, of course, had previously been an option. It was presented to me by, of all people, a well a meaning Christian just hoping to protect my future. However, I was of the opinion that if I was prepared enough to be having sex then I was prepared enough for the possible consequences. But that day in the ER, laying on the table, my viewpoint was solidified. Dr. “Callous”, as he was performing my emergency medical procedure said, “Do you want to see your baby?” It really wasn’t an option as he held the lifeless baby in the air in front of my face. At 12 weeks she was just that, a baby. A very, very, tiny baby.
But who wants to have “She was Pro-Life” on their gravestone when their days come to an end? I want people to remember me for being like Nurse Mary. Years later I sat in a church and looked across the aisle. There sat the nurse that so gently, yet strongly, got me through still to this day one of my toughest nights. Tears welled up. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She had no idea the impact she had on me.
Our Pro-Choice movements, Pro-Life Silent Roadside Sign Chains, our social media postings … The person they are trying to reach, I WAS THAT GIRL and none of those things helped me. I understand all those other things are trying to sway the voting public. But what could we be doing to really help THAT GIRL besides yelling our political views at each other? I don’t expect you to go busting in the neighbor girl’s house and try to help her. But both Nurse Mary and Dr. “Callous” were just doing their jobs that day. Each was “at the office” so to speak. Just growing where God planted them. Or at least Mary was.
I’m not there yet. And I’m as guilty as the next at getting wrapped up in my own stuff. But as a Christian, I want to be known for more than one thing. How will I ever be able to tell others about the love and forgiveness Jesus has given me if I’m standing across the highway shaking a sign at them or just tweeting whether I’m shopping at Hobby Lobby or Michael’s, (What about JoAnn’s Fabrics?!)? I really want to be remembered for being someone like Nurse Mary…
Bible Verse I’m Loving Today: