I remember being sixteen, pregnant, unmarried, and absolutely terrified. I remember hearing, "You only have one option!" and "This is not a doll you are carrying!" I remember running away to another state and hiding out for a time for fear that others might be able to kill my baby. I remember the two years of nightmares that someone took my child. I remember being told repeatedly that I was an idiot and that there was no way that I could possibly be a decent mother. I remember my failures. I also remember the things that my child suffered because of my immaturity. I can't tell you all of those things without also telling you that I remember standing by the crib day after day as my baby slept and marveling how God knit this child together in my womb and that I look at her today and the many, many grandchildren the Lord has blessed me with through her. Yes, there were things that we suffered because of my youth and immaturity. However, I have never once looked at her and thought that she had been better off aborted! I remember looking at her as she lie on a hospital bed at the age of 27 when we didn't know if she would live or die. I watched as the toxicity from a spider bite drained the life out of her and praised the Lord that He had allowed me to conceive her, Love her, birth her, raise her, and know her. I praised the Lord for the many wonderful things He had manifest in her life even using those painful times of being raised by such a young, immature mother.
I also saw my parents suffer before the Lord took them home, but never once felt that euthanasia had been a better option for them. As the phrase, "Death With Dignity" becomes increasingly popular; I realize that this is a term created by those who didn't want to be bothered with the care and nurturing of those whose conditions were more needy. According to my heart, my parents did die with dignity! They were not perfect people, but I know that they always did the best they could with what they had. In the last days of their lives on this earth, I was able to tell them how deeply I Love them and how thankful I am that they gave me life.
A few years ago after very reluctantly agreeing to have lunch with an antagonist, I learned something I will never forget. I had agreed to the lunch with hopes that this individual with whom I am forced into association would understand that she was not going to make me see things in her liberal view and that, for the sake of the relationship we could not avoid, we needed to agree to disagree. Soon after we arrived at the designated meeting place, it was clear that this was just another attempt on her part to wear me down. I was irritated and certainly had no appetite for food as I sat there listening to her drone on about why her liberal views were imperative. Then I saw him. There was a man, probably about forty, sitting in the booth across the isle from us. His countenance was one of the utmost despair and I was immediately drawn into instant prayer for him. He sat slumped forward with his head in both hands. Although I had no idea whatsoever what was wrong, I knew that he was in terrible physical, mental, and/or emotional pain. I continued to pray throughout the meal and my heart truly wept for him. As we were leaving, I felt that there was something I should do. I sat in my car for a couple of minutes asking the Lord to inspire me. And so He did. I grabbed my small notebook and penned a short note to him. I told him that he could be assured of God’s Love for him and presence with him because He had taken the time to press his need upon the heart of a complete stranger. I signed it, “Another child of God.” I then took the note to his waitress and asked if she could pass it on to him.
As I drove away that day, I realized that God had a plan. He desired to press a need on my heart for a fellow human being, for this is how we are made. We are not to cast aside one another when the need is great, but rather we are to Love one another and lift one another up. I then came home and wrote the following poem: