[Note: This article is part of a continuing
series. If you are seeking help recovering from your own abortion,
you will receive the most benefit if you start with the first
article. Look in the archives of the Streams of Life
section, December 1999.]
Wednesday afternoon December 22, 1976 I sat in a
pew watching everyone cry but I had no tears to shed. I didnít
really know this man lying in the casket before me. I felt sad
that my father was dead but youíre supposed to cry when your
father dies and I didnít remember any good times with him that I
would miss. I hadnít spent time with him to know what he was
really like. The only things I knew about him were what others had
told me. This all seemed so very cold to me and I was embarrassed
by the fact that I wasnít mourning as others were.
My mother had wanted to protect me from the
pains she had suffered because of his drinking, so I hadnít seen
my father but a couple of times since I was four years old. Iím
thankful I didnít have the disappointing times; the times he
couldnít have been there for me because of his drinking, yet I
didnít have the chance to have any good times that should have
been there either. In spite of this Iíve never doubted the fact
that my daddy loved his little "Punkiní Head" and
Iím thankful for that.
At the gravesite they folded up the American
flag and presented it to his cousin even though I was next of kin
and it should have gone to me. I had no memories to speak of and
nothing to remember that I had a father so this was hard. My
stepfather had erased all mention of my father from my motherís
diary of my childhood. Many of his pictures had been thrown away.
It was as if my father had never been.
When I got home from the graveyard I fell apart.
The tears I had held in for so long came pouring out. I wasnít
crying for the father I would miss. I was crying for the father I
had missed. I missed the love that should have been shared between
us. I couldnít stop crying now. The grief was too much to bear.
He was gone and I could never tell him that I knew Jesus now. He
wasnít there for me to talk to. I couldnít tell him that I
forgave him for his drinking and loved him anyway.
This pain I felt was similar but small in
comparison to the pain I felt for the loss of my baby boy that I
never had the chance to know and hold. My son I would never see
grow up to be the man of God I would want him to be. This boy that
I couldnít tell how much I loved him and how very sorry I was
that I had murdered him. I canít put into words the torture this
was for me.
Neither of these important men in my life would
I know. The emptiness was overwhelming. As in the Old Testament
days I mourned with bitter wailing. "My life was spent with
grief, and my years with sighing; my strength failed because of my
iniquity, and my bones were consumed" (Psalm 31:10).
I was the cause of my grief for my dead son. I
cried out to God as David did: "My guilt has overwhelmed me
like a burden too heavy to bear. My wounds fester and are
loathsome because of my sinful folly. I am bowed down and brought
very low; all day long I go about mourning. My back is filled with
searing pain; there is no health in my body. I am feeble and
utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart. All my longings lie
open before you, O Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you. My
heart pounds, my strength fails me; even the light has gone from
my eyes" (Psalm 38:4-11).
"I am worn out from groaning; all night
long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with
tears" (Psalm 6:6). There were many, many nights that I cried
almost all night long for my son. I buried my face in my pillow so
no one could hear me crying. When morning would finally come, my
pillow would be wet with tears. I would be so tired I would have
to struggle to make it through the day. My sorrow brought physical
pain as well as the emotional pain.
I didnít think there would ever be an end to
my suffering: "Oh, my anguish, my anguish! I writhe in pain.
Oh, the agony of my heart! My heart pounds within me, I cannot
keep silent" (Jeremiah 4:19). Almost daily would
"Streams of tears flow from my eyesÖ My eyes will flow
unceasingly, without relief, until the LORD looks down from Heaven
and sees" (Lamentations 3:48-50). "How long, O LORD?
Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from
me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have
sorrow in my heart?" (Psalm 13:2).
Let me share with you the most wonderful truth:
God cares! He does see our tears. He actually writes about each
tear in His book of remembrance (Malachi 3:16). Sometimes early
Christians would catch their tears in bottles and bury them with
their loved ones because they knew God valued them. "Thou
numberest my wonderings; put thou my tears into thy bottle. Are
they not in thy book?" (Psalm 56:8). To know that God cared
about each and every tear that I had shed meant so very much to
me. God promises us that "Those who sow in tears will reap in
joy" (Psalm 126:5).
"In my distress I called to the LORD; I
cried to my God for help. From His temple he heard my voice; my
cry came before Him, into His ears" (Psalm 18:6). Our
Sovereign LORD will "comfort all who mourn, and provide for
those who grieveÖ to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of
ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of
praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of
righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of His
splendor" (Isaiah 61:2-3). God comforts us to bring glory to
Dear friend, have hope "Because of the
LORDíS great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never
fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I
say to myself, ĎThe LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait
for Him.í The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the
one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of
the LORD" (Lamentations 3:22-26).
Until next time remember "The LORD is close
to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. A
righteous man may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him
from them all" (Psalm 34:18-19).