Category Archives: Women

A Minute of My Story

Do you want to hear my story
Parts are gory
I think you don’t
Listen you won’t

I feel compelled to write it all
Each trip and fall
Won’t you please read
Hear my heart bleed

I write to bring others healing
Share this feeling
Anguish explained
Hope is regained

_______________________________

Frank is tending the bar at dVerse Poets Pub today for Meeting the Bar. The form lesson for the day is the Minute Poem. It’s sixty syllables with added line length and rhyme scheme rules. The only rule I didn’t consciously follow is that each line is supposed to be in iambic meter. But then, I tend to break the meter rules with some regularity. Head over and check out some other Minute Poems.

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Listening

It’s been a hard week, she said

Me, too, I thought
but didn’t speak

Just listen, God nudged

So I listened
even when she paused

Thanks for listening, she said

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Pondering 1984

I’m a big fan of dystopian literature, like Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and 1984 by George Orwell. I don’t know what draws me to this kind of story of a society gone wrong while attempting to make everything perfect (at least for some).

I recently started rereading 1984 in an attempt to avoid writing. The parallels between the Party platform in Oceania and the platform of the pro-choice feminist movement of today are uncanny. The Party in Oceania stands on the three-pronged slogan: War Is Peace; Freedom Is Slavery; Ignorance Is Strength. Pro-choice feminists of today stand on the slogans: My Body, My Choice; Abortion Is Women’s Health.

The biggest problem for the pro-choice position is that they don’t have an engine like the Ministry of Truth to eliminate all the history and scientific facts that prove their slogans false.

Scientific facts prove an unborn child is not part of its mother’s body. It is a distinct human being with different DNA and sometimes different blood type of its mother.

History and her own writings prove that Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood, didn’t advocate for choice. She was a eugenicist whose goal was to eliminate potentially undesirable babies from the population through abortion and forced sterilization.

Pro-choice feminists can try to reframe the argument to be one of choice, but absent more than one option and information about all options, there is no real choice. When abortion is the only option, it’s not choice to choose it.

Mounting evidence reveals that abortion harms the women who have one, leading to depression, PTSD, suicide, infertility, and increased risk of breast cancer. Mounting evidence also reveals that sex traffickers and abusers often force their victims to have abortions against their will so that the abuser can continue their abuse.

I am thankful that there is no Ministry of Truth to erase the facts about abortion and its negative impact on women, men, and society as a whole. I am also thankful that we have the Truth, Jesus Christ, to help us fight the lies this world passes off as truth.

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Growing Peace in Forgiveness

Each time I see a Facebook post or Internet meme stating that abortion is murder, calling on us to save the babies, I feel a pang of anger. It’s not that I disagree with this truth. I do not. I know the medical facts that show that a baby has a heartbeat as early as 4 weeks after conception and can feel pain as early as 20 weeks after conception. It is even possible for a baby born only 23 weeks after conception to survive outside the womb.

I know all too well this truth. My anger comes from two places.

First, I am angry that the doctors and nurses at the clinic where my abortion was performed didn’t share that information with me. I’m angry that they didn’t provide me with choices or give me the opportunity to make an informed choice. I’m angry that they didn’t ask how I got pregnant. I was raped, but that didn’t concern them. I am angry that the supposed pro-choice movement in this country continues to lie to and withhold facts from women facing crisis pregnancies.

Second, I am angry that the pro-life movement spends so much time focusing on the babies that they often forget the women (or quite often young girls) who have been traumatized by the abortion industry, having believed the lie that an abortion was the only answer to their crisis pregnancy.

But then I feel God’s Spirit remind me that anger and vengeance are not mine. What is mine is forgiveness. And when I focus on God’s forgiveness, knowing He understands my regret and desires to heal my broken heart, peace begins to grow in my heart.

This is when I realize that God doesn’t call me to try to change the hearts and minds of those who are pro-choice or to condemn the methods of those who are pro-life. What God calls me to do is to bring His message of mercy and forgiveness to women, like me, who have endured the trauma of abortion and sometimes feel like there will never be peace.

There is peace. It is found in Jesus, who died to pay for all our sins, including the murder of our children. He will forgive all. His forgiveness will grow peace in our hearts when we let Him.

Are you among the millions of women who have had an abortion because you believed you had no other choice? Were you pressured by your boyfriend or husband, or perhaps even by an abuser? Were you single, with insufficient income to care for a child, and felt there was no other choice? Did you see your whole life’s plan ahead of you, a plan that didn’t have room for a child, and were told you had no other choice?

Do you live now with regret and heartache over the child you aborted? Do you struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts but don’t know why because you’ve buried the guilt over your abortion so deep you aren’t even consciously aware of it? Do you long to be closer to God but somehow feel that you will never be good enough for Him?

Dear one, you are not alone and you are loved. You are not the mistakes you have made and the wrongs you have done. You are loved by God and He desires to heal your deepest pain and hurt, to bring you forgiveness and peace. You only need to lay this burden—a burden that is much too heavy for you to bear alone—at the feet of Jesus. His truth and love will set you free to live in His peace.

Here are some resources to help you:

Silent No More Awareness

Eternal Perspective Ministries

The Radiance Foundation

Walk for Life

Lifecall – Directory of pregnancy resource centers

CareNet – Pregnancy resource centers

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You Cannot Grow Peace from Murder

I read a post by Anne Lamott on Facebook the other day regarding the Women’s March. I kept coming back to one line: “You cannot grow tulips from zucchini seeds, or peace from murder.” Today this thought continues to resonate in my heart and soul as I see so many friends posting in support of the march. It resonates because I am confused at the inconsistency of this statement and the position of the organizers and sponsors of the Women’s March that is decidedly in favor of murder, and yet believe that from it they can grow peace.

Or maybe it’s not really peace they want, but power. Power can be a very attractive temptation.

In case you hadn’t heard, several groups were originally listed as sponsors of the Women’s March, but were removed when the organizers found out that they were pro-life. The removal of New Wave Feminists and a pregnancy crisis center from Idaho were reported by Christianity Today. Had they remained on the sponsor list, showing that all women were welcome, I would support the March as well. But it was clear that the Women’s March was not meant to be inclusive of all women.

Remaining on the sponsor list are Planned Parenthood and NARAL (the National ABORTION Rights Action League). Neither of these organizations care about anything but maintaining the status quo in which unborn girls (and boys) are murdered in our country on a daily basis. My personal experience is that they do not care about the long-term affects of abortion on the women they serve. They only care about their profit margin.

In 1973 when Roe v. Wade was decided by the nine male justices of the U.S. Supreme Court, medical technology did not allow us to see inside the womb. But now, 44 years later, there have been significant advances in medical technology that allow us to see the developing child. There can no longer be any doubt that abortion murders an unborn child.

In addition, after 44 years of legal abortion, during which time millions of women have murdered their own children, we have learned that there are significant adverse affects on the women themselves. Organizations like Silent No More Awareness and the Facebook group Shout Your Abortion Regret attest to the millions of women, like me, who believed the lie that abortion is only about our own bodies. We live with the pain and regret of a decision we cannot undo. But perhaps, if we speak up in spite of our shame and share our regret, we can save other women from the same fate. We were told that having an abortion would bring us peace. But you can’t grow peace from murder.

It saddens me that the best our society has to offer women facing the prospect of having a child they can’t afford is to have an abortion. Why don’t we offer assistance in raising the child or in finding an adoptive family? Are we so convinced that women are so weak that they can’t handle having and raising a child in spite of difficult circumstances? When we say we want women to have the equal right to have it all, do we mean only if they’re willing to sacrifice their child? Is abortion—is murder—the best we have to offer? Is the right to murder your child really worth marching for? I once thought it was, but I was wrong.

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What Is Bravery?

Why say I’m brave?
You don’t call robbery victims brave
when they tell
You don’t call shooting victims brave
when they tell
You don’t call mugging victims brave
when they tell
Yet your clouded view calls me brave
when I tell
I was raped

_______________________________

Today is Quadrille Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub. The prompt will be up at 12:00 PT, but I learned that the word for today is “cloud” from Victoria who has access to the prompt earlier than I do. But I wrote the first draft of this Quadrille earlier this morning not knowing what the word was and then worked it in later. I think it’s better with the change.

The impetus for this poem was something that happened last week when I told a group of people in a meeting that I had been raped. I won’t go into the context of the discussion, but during and after the meeting several people told me how brave I was to speak up. As I pondered those comments over the past week I felt an anger welling up. To me, those comments were indicative of the stigma that still remains on victims of sexual assault, like somehow we are partly to blame for what has happened to us and we should be ashamed of what we’ve been through.

I am thankful that God doesn’t see it that way. He doesn’t call me brave; He calls me beloved.

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Anger Gone Awry

She told me I had a right to be angry
And so anger became my constant companion

Thoughts of self-defense courses fled
I dwelt on thoughts of revenge instead
I was obsessed with Murderous meditations

If I had a gun I’d shoot him
If I had a gun I’d shoot him
If I had a gun I’d shoot him
Like a never-ending echo

I wrote in my Journal my bloodthirsty plan
I’d line up Mike and Russ and all the others
I’d blindfold them and shoot them all
with hollow point bullets
Aren’t they more painful than regular bullets

In hindsight, reading this Journal entry
I wonder if the blindfold represented
my deep longing for Mercy
They wouldn’t see death coming

My plan never came to fruition
which is probably just as well
God’s plan of forgiveness
released me from my hell

I know that what they did was wrong
but vengeance is not mine
It would consume my life
if I let anger my pain prolong

I may have a right to be angry
yet anger gone awry
is no saving grace

So I choose peace

______________________________

Thursday will be Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub and I will be linking this poem. I was going to wait to post it until then but changed my mind.

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Nobody

I’ve spent my life thinking but not fully convinced
that no one really likes me
not even God, who it is said loves everyone

And I’ve often been fairly convinced
that my mom didn’t love me
though deep down I know she did

It’s not true, yet this persistent thought
has colored much of what I do
and what I don’t do

How long did I desire to be
a writer, but didn’t write
for anyone else to read

I’ve hidden away pages of prose and poetry
thoughts and feelings
that I now know others could relate to

How many opportunities to bless others
have I neglected because I undervalued
my own contribution to this world

I know I am loved
I am beloved by God
I am cherished by family

Nonetheless, even now sometimes
I think nobody really likes me
not even God

_____________________________________

The NaPoWriMo prompt for today is to write a poem with a line you are afraid to write. There are a few in this poem. I am afraid for others to know my doubt and fears. But this was good practice for writing my memoir, because that thing is going to include a lot of lines I’m afraid to write.

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More Than a Friend

Preparing to attend today
the burial of a dear old friend
And by old I mean she was 43 years my senior

Still, I loved her like a sister
and at the same time she was mentor,
prayer warrior, confident, and encourager

I thought of the many friends I have
who are so much older than me
who will also likely be heading home
to be with our Savior before me

This is not likely to be the last funeral
that I will attend to honor
a sweet and dear friend

And then I pondered some new friends
Women who are younger than me
who are newer in their faith
and I realize I want to be
for them like a sister
But also a mentor, prayer warrior,
confident, and encourager

I want to be for them
what Norma was for me
What Carol, Lin, and so many others
still are to me every day

When it is my time to go home
and be with our Savior
I hope and pray that
there will be women like me
who will attend my service
feeling blessed by having known me
because I pointed them to faith in Jesus
and was His hands and feet in their lives

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A Cautionary Tale and Forgiveness

I’ve been pondering my past, my regrets, a lot lately and it was starting to get me down. Regrets will do that, you know. I was really starting to let it get to me, praying that God would just let me forget the things I’ve done and have had happen to me that I wish I could change but can’t.

But some things aren’t meant to be forgotten (even though they’re forgiven) because God wants to use them as a cautionary tale to others.

So here are my thoughts, my warnings to those young girls who might be heading down a similar path that I once followed. Trust me, you don’t want to get to 50 and wish you could either forget or go back and change your teen years.

Teens today think it’s cool and acceptable to have sex with their boyfriend or girlfriend, even if they have no intention of it being forever. Sometimes a teen girl will have sex with her boyfriend because she is looking for love and acceptance and thinks that’s the only way to find it. Sex is just no big deal, they think. But it is a really big deal. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to say my husband is the only one I’d ever had sex with. Well, I could say it, but it wouldn’t be true. And there is nothing I can do to change that.

God’s Word says that sex is to be reserved for marriage. Our culture thinks that’s old-fashioned and that sexual freedom is better.

Clergyman Richard Cecil once wrote, “God denies a Christian nothing, but with a design to give him something better.” Sex outside of marriage is denied by God because monogamy and having only one special, perfect lover is better.

Though I can’t go back and change the past, I was reminded by a favorite Sanctus Real song the other day not to let that get me down because that was the old me and Christ has made all things new. The lyrics to that song speak to me. The second verse and chorus are:

My mistakes are running through my mind
And I’ll relive my days in the middle of the night
When I struggle with my pain, wrestle with my pride.
Sometimes I feel alone and I cry.

And in this life
I know what I’ve been
But here in your arms
I know what I am

Well, I’m forgiven
I’m forgiven
And I don’t have to carry
The weight of who I’ve been
‘Cause I’m forgiven

Forgiven, Sanctus Real

Every day we make choices. I pray young men and women will make Godly choices instead of the worldly choices I made when I was young. I pray that if you are reading this cautionary tale, you will take it to heart and avoid the regret, the struggle of reliving your days in the middle of the night. Practice patience and self-control, waiting until you find your real one true belove, the one you have married, to discover the wonder and joy of God’s gift of sex.

But if you are like me, if you have regrets, remember that you, too, can be forgiven. When a woman who had led a sinful life came to Jesus, He had compassion on her. “Then Jesus said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’” Luke 7:48 (NIV). He will say the same to you.

 

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