Hope for the Hurting: My Story of Healing After an Abortion

This isn’t about politics.

This isn’t a debate about government control.

This is about people.

Specifically women who, in many major circles, are placed in the category of the unthinkable. They’ve done the unimaginable and should be added to the list of the worst of the worst.

They’re talked about on Facebook like they’re heartless individuals who can’t see, feel, think or read. They’re often ripped apart by those who have never been in their position, yet jump to many conclusions as to how they got there or why they did what they did.

This is for the broken.

This is for the hurting.

This is for the lost, embarrassed and ashamed.

This is for the woman who needs to hear that she’s not alone.

This is for the one who needs to know there is forgiveness, freedom, liberty and boundless love in Christ.

This is for the woman who, like me, had an abortion that she regrets.

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5 Lessons of Hope…Even When It Hurts

This time last week I was sharing about my recent miscarriage. It honestly feels as though much more time has passed.

The rollercoaster of emotions has been very real, and as I run the gamut between sorrow, anger, grief, pain, peace, comfort, fear, and disappointment, hope is also making its presence known.

I can’t pinpoint all that I’m feeling at every moment, but I’m certain that these 5 lessons are ones I don’t ever want to forget.

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Miscarried Away

*To my precious pregnant friends, or anyone else for whom miscarriage is a trigger, please refrain from reading this post if you have any inkling that it will upset you. I appreciate your love and support, and regardless of what I’m going through know that I rejoice with you.* 

Inevitable Miscarriage

As I signed my name at the bottom of the discharge paper, my eyes fixed on those two words. I held myself together long enough to make it to the doors, but as soon as the wind hit my face the tears came hard and heavy.

I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t process a thing.

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

It wasn’t a dream. It was my harsh, cruel, and excruciatingly painful reality. 

We had lost our baby and my heart was shattered into a million pieces.

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We’re Stronger Together

You know that old adage. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?” Yeah, well, that’s kind of how I feel about 2016.

I completely understand that this whole calendar thing is man-made, and I know it means nothing in terms of reflecting the inner-workings of God and His ultimate time-table.

I totally get that.

Still, this year, these past 12 months, have been a doozy. Both personally and as a family.

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No, You Won’t Steal My Joy!

Into the mud rolled the big fat truck, and his big important wheels got STUCK! His heavy-duty dump-truck tires were sunk down deep in muck and mire.

MUCK AND MIRE?!!!!!

Without fail, my 4 yo will always, always pause and place extra emphasis on this part of the Little Blue Truck. She thinks it’s hilarious! I typically burst into uproarious laughter with her, but after reading it this last time it hit me in a different way.

Sunk down deep in muck and mire.

Leave it to a children’s book, granted an excellent one, to give me pause as I stopped to reflect upon the current condition of my heart and mind.

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