Ezerwoman's Blog

Yesterday was not a day of celebration for those wounded by abortion.  Mother’s Day is a difficult day for the women who have an abortion in their past, for men unable to save a child from abortion, and for grandparents.  Mother’s Day, for many people, is a reminder of lost lives and denied relationships.

Abortion continues to be a heated debate in this country, but for millions of American women and for the men, grandparents, siblings, and friends in the lives of those women, abortion is  not a debate — it is a loss.  It is the loss of a son, a daughter, a grandchild.  That’s because motherhood and fatherhood — yes, grandparenthood, too — begin at conception.

Many of us know someone who has lost a child through miscarriage.  We grieve with them, offer the peace of Christ, and entrust their precious little one to God.  But abortion is a secret pain.  It is a dagger of guilt.  It is a loss that is carried deep inside and alone.

The great loss of life should pierce the heart of every one of us.  The numbers are staggering.  More than 3,000 women have an abortion every day.  These women are in our families, congregations, and circles of friends.  They are Christians who worship with us and go to Bible study with us.  I know some of these women.  At least 25 of my friends, relatives, or acquaintances have had abortions.  Seventeen of them are Lutheran.  Three are the wives of Lutheran pastors.  At least three have had more than one abortion.

Abortion has created a new mission field for the church.  There is a need to enter this mission field — but first, we must understand that we will almost certainly encounter denial, anger, self-hatred, distrust, grief, remorse, and the nature, but perhaps deeply buried, desire for reconciliation with the Giver of Life.

For those in denial, I pray my message can gently convict.  For those already convicted, I pray my message will offer hope and my behavior be welcoming.  I pray my arms remain open with the merciful love of Jesus who reconciles us all with God.

When I became a grandmother for the first time, I realized that holding my grandson was surprisingly different from holding my own two sons.  Each gaze upon the child of my child is a generational moment.  The room of my heart excitedly received my first grandchild.  The room of my life rearranged itself.

Often, when holding my first… then second, third, and fourth grandsons, I think of the thousands of other women of my generation whose arms will never hold a grandchild.  Their arms will never hold the child of their child.  That’s because when finding themselves “with child,” these women believed the lie: “make this one sacrifice and choose a better time to be a mother.”  Although the room of their hearts may have whispered a word of welcome, the room of their lives did not.

Because these women either did not hear or did not trust God’s promise, the world captured their every thought and desire.  Tossed in a tumultuous sea, these women reached toward “salvation” in the guise of a “quick and painless” abortion.

But the degrading act goes against all that is maternal and natural.  Sent away from the abortion clinic, women are abandoned to burdens of guilt, grief, and anger that threaten to pull them into cold and lonely darkness, away from the Giver of Life.

So, how do you and I respond?  Please read on to my next post . . .