GGma 3 - Version 2

Almost four weeks ago I broke my hand.  It has been hard to write to say the least and I wish I could say I am using the time to relax, because that was my intention.  But as always it has been busy.  My plan, I hope, is to use the last week and a half to do just that.

One thing that struck me, and is why I am telling you this, was when I left the urgent care after learning my hand was indeed broken, quite well the doctor remarked, and with the threat of surgery looming over my head, I walked out the doors and lost it.  I broke down.  I was left with overwhelming emptiness, shame, and anger.

A couple days later, I thought about it and realized that was the same feeling I felt when I left the abortion clinic.  In an instant I was brought back to that place.  I saw myself walk out those doors, and down the steps.  In that moment I felt nothing and everything.

I grieved deeply.

As I sit here and type one handed (of which I am getting really good at and thank-you spell check!), I am looking forward to the days of one-handed typing to be behind me.  But like my abortion, lessons that are harder learned will be with me forever and maybe that is a good thing for it was George Santayana who said, “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”


surrender part four

click here to see part one
click here to see part two
click here to see part three

don’t weep for me


It is true, I don’t have children.  I sometimes wonder what it would have been like.  I remember when I bought my house (it’s next to a school).  I thought maybe one day I would have a child and I could stay home and walk them to school and pick them up.  I could have warm cookies waiting from time to time.  See their smiles light up their face as they wipe off their milk mustache.

I know its not all sunshine and cookies, but I imagine there must be some reward or why would so many of you decide to have children and more than one.  🙂

There is a sorrow inside me that won’t go away.  It’s more of a dull ache that remains.  Like when the cold weather brings on the tenderness of old joints, I too have seasons of my life where this pain is more prominent than usual.

Don’t weep for me.  There is joy in my future when I will be reunited with my Rebekah Hope, of that I am sure.

loss of control


When you have an abortion, you feel the loss of control.  You lost control over what happened to your body when the life was sucked taken from you.  You didn’t realize what was going to happen, how you were going to feel.

They didn’t tell you what might happen with your emotions.  Their only words were: it’s only tissue, its a simple procedure, you will be fine, your life will be back to normal.

A steady cadence of lies.

Only now there is a new normal.  A post abortive normal that they never told you.  They didn’t tell you that one day you would be overcome by your grief.  That if you let it, it would swallow you up.  They didn’t tell you that anger would seep into the most unlikely places and you would end up hating yourself for what you did.  Not an easy dislike, but a deep, dark, hatred that infiltrated and poisoned my soul.

I have facilitated this study multiple times and I’m still amazed by what I learn.  This time around, I still see this loss of control and how that affected me.  I look at my life and see how I try to control every part of what happens in my bubble.  From big to little things.  I know part of it IS my personality, but a huge part of it is this loss of control I experienced with my abortion and the abuse I suffered.

I never wanted to feel that way again and so I promised myself that I would always be in control, I would never let anyone control me again.  I allowed myself to be bullied into this decision to abort (yes I still take responsibility for my choice).  But after that day, I vowed, I would be the one to decide my fate.  It will be my choice.

I am no where near as bad as I once was, but I still need work.  Healing comes in stages.  It has been over ten years into my journey and I continue to learn things about myself from that one incident over 20 years ago.

This life is a journey not a destination…

surrender part three

click here to see part one
click here to see part two

It has been really healing to watch these videos and hear other women’s stories of being post abortive.  I have especially been relating to one of the women who also did not have any children.  When she speaks, I hear parts of my story.  When people ask if she has any children, I see her uncomfortableness.  When I look at her, I see me.

I have not met many women that do not have children (after having an abortion), some are younger and don’t because they are not married yet they hope to.  But rarely do I see a women that is my age or older that does not have any children.

the drop box

I love it when I am moved. When someone’s testimony reaches into my heart and opens it up. I love that feeling of watching your heart beat outside of you (in someone else).

This story is about faith, hope, and LOVE.

Please watch this trailer of a movie titled “The Drop Box” and open your heart. There is so much power in one person rising above and making a difference.

you’re not alone

I have said it many times in many ways.  You are not alone.  But then this week I heard this melody sung by Jamie Grace and she can say it more beautiful than I.

Another sleepless night
She’s looking up and crying out
He’s just a little child
Can you stop his hurting now

It’s so quiet
But she hears in the silence

His arms are holding you
His love will see you through
When you smile and you laugh but you’re fakin’
Cause you don’t know how you’re gonna make it

You feel so much pain
And you can’t see your way
You’re not alone
You’re not alone

She’s tryna plan ahead
Unsure about the time left
Can’t let these moments pass
Instead she’ll treasure what she has

And when it’s quiet
She hears in the silence

These arms are holding you
And this love will see you through
When you smile and you laugh but you’re fakin’
Cause you don’t know how you’re gonna make it

You feel so much pain
And you can’t see your way

You’re not alone
You’re not alone

His arms are holding you
His love will see you through
When you try not to cry but to take it
All the stress, and the hurt and the heartache

You may feel pain
But not as great as His name
You’re not alone
No you’re not alone