Through the Wardrobe, on Toward Grace

"Aslan is on the move--perhaps has already landed."

I can feel it, and I can almost see it.

For some time now I've known that the day of reckoning was coming. I've been so afraid of the rod that I've run and run, but how can you run from the God who is everywhere?

The Look Alike woke up at 3:45 am to nurse, and I was awake for the next hour just replaying some events of my day. There's a person in my life who is a newish friend, but we have been though some similar experiences. God seems to always bring "dive deep" people into my life. I don't so much do superficial relationships, and it can take me a while to feel people out. Anyhow, so after doing the dance and figuring out that this person is someone I can trust, I shared my experience with abortion. I hate to say that in passive voice, it sounds like I don't own it.

I shared with her several weeks ago that I had had an abortion. The response I got was a knowing one, one that wasn't ready to reveal. And I understand, really I do. It's tough to admit in Christian circles, because you run the risk of being marked. My pastor says, "the body is designed for a massive grace response to brokenness", and he's right. But we know that not everything goes as designed, and the enemy does what he can to convince us that it's not safe to be known.

After spending time with my family last week, Newish Friend told me that she was praying for me and was stirred to pray several times, even in the middle of the night. I am so thankful for that faithfulness. Add a check to the "trustworthy" column.

Anyhow, last night Newish Friend told me about the circumstances of how abortion touched her own life. I didn't have the words to say what I wanted to, and it's partly because so much of the incident is unresolved for me. I remember very little, it's all clouded by regret and Valium and guilt over the immediate relief and return to normalcy.

So in the middle of the night, apparently the only time I'm available for God to speak to, He spoke. I thought that I'd had an abortion to avoid being like my mother. She was 17 when I was born, and things were tough. But last night, the Lord told me that I wasn't avoiding being like her, I was avoiding my son being the child I was. I was a sensitive, needy kid. Too smart, too clingy, too shy.

I have never felt wanted a day in my life. You'd be amazed at how many ways that feeling of being unwanted manifests in everyday life. You know that because no one wanted you, you should make yourself as small and unnoticed as possible. You should not need. Even if you do, no one will come for you. You should not stand up for yourself, why bother when you're worthless? You apologize for the very act of breathing.

So it makes sense that I would want to spare my unplanned child that. It may sound like I'm letting myself off easy. Believe me, that's not the case.

But where do you run with that heartbreak? Where can you go that you'll be loved and accepted even after you admit that you're a murderer? Where is a safe place?

Is He safe? "Course he isn't safe. But he's good."

Amen. So today, I choose to run into the arms of love. I choose to stand as best I can, broken and limping. I choose to mourn my son, the one who died at my own hand. I choose to release him into his Father's loving arms, and I decide to bring my husband into my grief, what should be our shared grief.

I choose to release my need to please, to always earn love or some semblance thereof. I choose to recognize that this will take a long, long time to move through, and acknowledge that others may get tired of hearing about it.

More to come.