Tag Archives: faith


img_8447Welcome to Rebekah’s Hope.  I started this blog as my healing journey through my past abortion (nearly 25 years ago).  While I will always deal with the consequences of that day, God has truly used my experience for His glory.

If you’d like to read more of my story

Part One

Part Two

If you’d like to learn more about the Garden of Hope


My author website


some things must die

Scan007, October 16, 2003

April 29, 2013, for me, is one of those days that you “remember where you were when…”

They wheeled my husband back into the hospital room, the back of the bed faced me.  I couldn’t see him, but I knew something was wrong.  There was something in the air that changed.  Something felt off.  This was a routine heart catheterization procedure to put a couple stents in.  One day in the hospital, a couple days of rest, and bada bing, bada boom life would be back to normal.

But that’s not what happened.

The nurses flitted about getting things ready in his room.  His bed was still half in the hall and half in the room.  I couldn’t wait another minute for them to push him in, so I went to his side.

“Hey,”  I said, hoping for a smile, some sign we were done and we could move on from here.  But his face was full of dread and something else I couldn’t quite recognize on him.  Fear.  He spoke to me through watery eyes, his words a quiet whisper, “I have to have open heart.”  I shook my head no, hand in his squeezing tight.  The nurses droned on, talking to each other.

“How do you like working in the cath lab?”
“Oh it’s great, I’m learning a ton and it’s neat to see all the procedures and how they are done.”
“That’s great…”

Everything splintered in that moment.

I wanted the nurses to stop talking, to do their job and leave so we could be alone.  The world around us began to fade and spin.  All my thoughts were of ribs being opened and separated.  I couldn’t bear it.  I looked at my husband and wiped the tears from his face.  When he spoke there was terror in his voice.  He too, was afraid.

I had no words.  I couldn’t comfort him, I didn’t know what to do.  What would this mean?  I could see the process unfold that night as we went from denial to acceptance.

On May 2, 2013, he underwent quadruple bypass.

I have been wanting to write this entry for months.  I can say I was too busy, but I wonder if it was too raw.  It still feels fresh, like a wound that hasn’t quite healed.

But I learned there is a time and season for everything.  It’s ok for some things to die…to come to an end.

Death of shame.

Death of self.

Death of pride.

Death of bad habits.

The end of this blog…

This journey has brought me farther than I ever thought possible.  There was a day not too long ago that I said, “When I was post abortive.”  That day I realized I will always feel the pain and loss. But I am done carrying the shame and guilt from my abortion.  Jesus bore that all on the cross for me. Who am I to continue to carry the penalty, rather than choose to accept the free gift he has given us.  Now, I am truly free.

My prayer is that in a way this will live on.  I wanted to take others on my journey and see how it’s possible to heal.  That they are not alone in their struggles with abortion.

So I leave you with this:  Life is beautiful.  When the reality of life’s frailty hit me upside the head, it was a wake up call and I learned a lot about myself.

To live.

To live beautifully.

To live fully.

To not take things for granted.

To live without regrets.

To love more deeply.

My prayer is that you may do the same.

rebekah hope

Many years after my abortion I was given the opportunity to grieve and say goodbye to my child. I think that is one of the hardest things about abortion. Society says its ok, its just a blob of tissue, its nothing. Maybe we even agreed at one time. But afterward some of us know and feel differently.

When we make this choice we feel we must live with it. And in a sense we must do just that. The reality is that when you are pregnant, next comes a baby. It’s hard to deny these facts, although we are really good at stuffing it way down. I think one of the hurdles and what took me years to realize was it was ok to grieve. It was ok to say goodbye. It was ok to let her go in a sense. At our memorial ceremony we choose a flower that best represents our child.

The flower I chose was a gerber daisy. I sit here and wonder why I chose that particular flower. It stands tall, brave, big, bright, engaging, beautiful, open, outgoing, it exudes energy.  It represents the hope, expectations, loss, love, yearning.  All that in a flower.  It is everything I am not and everything I would have hoped for in a little “me”.

joshua 1:9

8 Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. 9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

“Be strong and courageous…”  This has always given me hope when I have most needed it.  This ministry that I am a part of and that desire deep to help other women can leave me feeling discouraged at times.  Sometimes I feel doubt and despair creep up on me.  But I need to remember that it is God at work here and that everything happens in His timing.  Most of all I need to remember not to be discouraged, but be strong and courageous for He is with me wherever I go.

“…I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”  Matthew 17:20

love never fails


Two summers ago we did a bible study and I always find myself thinking of this verse:

1 Corinthians 13:13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

I try and remember in all that I do.  Love.

october baby

I went to a screening of October Baby this week.  In a word:  Powerful.

It truly brings to light the devastation of abortion.  How it affects not only the mother, but those connected to her and the abortion.  It is a gripping story about a young girl who finds out that she is adopted and was the product of a failed abortion attempt.  She goes on a journey to find out who she really is.

I am amazed at how many abortion survivors are out there.  The director challenged us to do a search and I did briefly and was surprised to find out this side of abortion.  Gianna Jessen is one of these.  Listening to her story and seeing all that she is…made me think of all that we missed out on with our children we sacrificed in the name of fear.

I know I will be there on opening day to see this movie…again.
Check out these websites and the movie on March 23!!!


my story…part two

Why didn’t I just go home?  I couldn’t go back and admit defeat.  It was hard enough without losing another part of myself.  So I stuck with it.

Fast forward to the clinic.

We arrived early in the morning to the clinic.  I wished for protestors so that maybe we would have to turn around and go back.  My boyfriend just dropped me off.  The appointment was going to take a good five hours so he left.

The whole process left me feeling like cattle being herded and led to the slaughter.

There were so many women I would say 50+ and they brought us into different rooms.  There was the waiting room, ultrasound room where they looked at my child.  I wondered if it was a boy or a girl.  Back to a waiting room, off to the blood work room, I had a big fear of needles and this was my first experience with blood being drawn.  The lady yelled at me to grow up…the exact words evade me…but that is the gist of what I heard.  On to another room where we could change into our “comfortable clothes”.  In this room they handed out small white little cups with two pills.  One pill to relax us and one pill to start some sort of contractions.  In any of these rooms hardly none of the women spoke.  A couple of “veterans” talked a little about how this was their second or third, but mostly it was silent except for the sucking vacuum sound down the hallway.

Then we were called to travel down the hallway into the room where the abortion would be performed.  The actual room I can only see in flashes, I think there were two stations to perform abortions.  We were told to get on the table and put our feet in the stirrups only a thin piece of paper separated my flesh from the cold steel table.  I see the nurse comforting me telling me its going to be alright.  But it was never alright.

Our last room was the recovery room that was lined with cots.  We were told to drink some pop and eat a cookie and make sure we could keep it all down.  They pushed really hard for you to get out of this room.  I don’t remember too much of the pain or what I was feeling then.  When I left, I walked off the steps of the clinic and lost my composure.  I can only describe it as a forceful welling of emotions that spilled over into tears and then anger followed along with my vow to never have children.

I always tell people that this was not the end of my story.  It was only the beginning.  After this followed years of abuse, rape, suicidal thoughts, self hatred.  I was a walking time bomb.  But then came faith, hope, and love.

Abortion no longer defines me and who I am, but Christ who lives in me.  I share my story because every time I do, it loses it’s power.