Why I am Pro-choice…
…and why I chose life….
Never tell a child, “You have a soul.” Teach the child, “you are a soul; you have a body.” – George MacDonald (attributed)
In the nearly 50 years that Roe v. Wade had been the “law of the land” – as U.S. Supreme Court decisions are referred to with respect to the highest court of the United States having the final say on all matters Constitutional that are brought before it – there have been approximately 63 million abortions performed in the United States.
63 million abortions.
No matter what an individual’s position is on the abortion issue – whether pro-choice, pro-life or pro-indifference – taking a step back and considering that number, it is a staggering statistic. To put the number in perspective:
At the time that Roe was decided, the U.S. Census had the population of the United States at approximately 211.9 million. In the 2020 Census, the population of the United States was estimated at 331.4 million; the difference is 119.5 million - less than twice the number of abortions performed in that same period.
According to the 2020 Census, the total population of our five largest states (California, Texas, Florida, New York and Pennsylvania) was 123,425,864 – just slightly less than twice the number of abortions performed in the USA since 1973.
According to the 2020 Census, the total population of our next five largest states (Illinois, Ohio, Georgia, North Carolina, Michigan) is…55,840,583. There were more abortions performed in the USA since 1973 than there are people counted in these five states, combined.
This January 22, 2023 marks the fifty-year anniversary of the Supreme Court’s decision in Roe. However, the focus of this essay is not on the legal, political, medical, cultural, historical, philosophical, religious or practical arguments for or against abortion. I leave those debates to those much more knowledgeable, learned, skilled and practiced than I could ever be. Nor is it an argument for taking away the rights, choices, and/or dignity of women, or a judgement of anyone. No, nothing like that. Rather, it is simply the writer’s own personal experience with confronting the choice of dealing with an unexpected pregnancy, including the spiritual aspect of that experience. It is a factual and true narrative of what occurred in 1981, in the lives of two teenagers who were in love, had been very careless, yes, indeed very foolish, and found themselves in the most consequential of circumstances: having to make the choice between life and death. It speaks to the profound impact of their ultimate choice, and the aftermath, forty-two years later.
I. Winter, 1981 – A Life Changing Decision
It was in the winter of 1981, that my girlfriend, along with her best friend, told me that after missing her period, she had taken a pregnancy test and tested positive. As one could imagine for two teenagers in their senior year of high school, this was a shocking situation that instantaneously spurred emotions of fear, guilt, anger, and shame. We were both students at Catholic high schools, and truth be told, after eight years of Catholic grammar school and nearly four years of Catholic high school, we had no business even engaging in pre-marital sex. Our parental guidance and religious studies were unequivocal in that instruction. But we were young, we were in love, and we knew better than the wise counsel of our parents, our teachers, our religion, and the Word of God. In the fantasy of our youthful passion and romantic longing, the very real possibility of an unexpected pregnancy wasn’t a thought. Until it happened.
My girlfriend and I had both grown up in the Catholic church. We both came from very large families. I was one of seven siblings, and she was also one of seven siblings. We both had been taught from our Catholic upbringing that abortion was wrong – a most horrific, mortal sin for Catholics – that it was complete anathema to the teachings of the Catholic Church as well as to God. But now, we found ourselves in the unenviable position of having to confront our commitment to those teachings. She was pregnant and no matter how much we hoped, prayed, begged and pleaded – that was not going to change. Except that she would be starting to show a baby bump sooner rather than later. We had a very serious problem on our hands, a problem of life-changing consequences for two young people who were in truth, very naïve and very unsophisticated. After the initial shock and the eventual processing of the severity of the situation, the ultimate question was asked: what were we going to do?
For me, I can truthfully say that at the time the thought of an abortion never entered my mind. Being raised in a family where our mom was a spiritual tour de force of obedience to and trusting in God, I could never consider what I was raised to believe was the termination of innocent life. Not only was it a belief I was raised in, I truly believed it with all my heart and soul. Therefore, I was already contemplating whether the child that eventually would be born would be kept or given up for adoption.
Then another reality set in.
My girlfriend was not in the same place as I was.
It’s important to note, and for me at the time to understand, that although we had gotten ourselves into this position together, it was her body that was going to be deeply – and very publicly – impacted. Her body was going to change. She was going to bear the brunt of a very public display of our transgression. She was going to be shamed by being forced to leave high school (it was the policy of the all-girls Catholic high school she attended at the time, not to permit a student who was pregnant to attend classes). She was going to bear any potential medical risks. And these were just some of the challenges leading up to the potential birth of the baby – not the whole set of other challenges that came into play once the baby was born. Naturally, a sincere and deep fear began to set in and take hold of her. She was extremely frightened and understandably so. The potential public reaction paled in comparison to the reaction of her parents and her six siblings. The hurt, shame, betrayal and anger would be overwhelming. Remember, it was 1981, and the culture of the time was still one of strong family values and traditions with adherence to a strict standard of virtue and morals – a culture that has since drastically changed.
As most teenagers do, she sought refuge with her friends, her classmates at her Catholic high school. Of course, she and I had discussed the situation and the course of action that I thought best. But she wanted to also talk it over with her friends. It seemed fair and reasonable to me.
And sadly - most sadly - that was when we discovered our situation was not so unique.
In fact, there were a number of her classmates who had gotten pregnant prior to our situation. One classmate had even gotten pregnant a couple of times. In each and every case, the classmates had chosen to terminate the pregnancy. Even my girlfriend’s best friend at the time had gotten pregnant and opted for an abortion - with her mother’s blessing.
Unfortunately, this turn of events did not bode well for where I stood on the decision of the fate of our unborn child. And for me - yes, it was her body - but it was still our unborn child. She didn’t make that child by herself – and even she knew and believed that fact. Although it was 1981, the position that it was the woman’s body and therefore the woman’s choice – and her choice alone- was still the much promoted position of those in support of abortion.
To be clear, that wasn’t my personal belief – after all, I was raised by parents and in a Church that taught me that all life is sacred and flows from God who commands us to never take an innocent life. However, as young as I was, I was pragmatic enough to realize the dilemma of the situation: my girlfriend had the final say, not me. And there was no way I could prevent her from having an abortion if that is what she chose to do. Ultimately, it was going to be her decision, no matter what I wanted.
“Her body, her choice” was a brutal reality that I would have to accept.
My firm belief was that no one else besides my girlfriend – and me to the degree she would permit – had any say in that choice. And that’s where the epic conflict occurred. Instead of this being a decision that was going to be made by the two people with the most vested interest in the outcome of that decision – namely my girlfriend and me, the mother and father of the unborn child – there were others who believed they had the right to usurp my say in the matter. This would be some of the classmates and the mother of her best friend. And it was very clear where they stood: they were all in favor of my girlfriend having an abortion. And were just as emphatic that I did not have any say in the matter.
It quickly became obvious to me that abortion was on the table and in serious consideration. The depth of the despair I felt at the powerlessness of the situation I found myself in is indescribable.
Because I did not know what the ultimate decision was going to be – I was immediately cut-off from a key source of my strength and support in my life: my own family. The reasoning here was two-fold: one, because I could not betray the respect for and trust of my girlfriend – if she was going to make a decision, she should not be coerced into it either way by our elders who would intercede and say what she would or wouldn’t do (I am strictly referring here to her right to make a decision about her life as an individual without being treated as a child – not any legal angle; she was 17 not 12, and again the family culture we grew up in was one where the parents and older siblings would be weighing in); and secondly, if she were to decide to have an abortion, there was no way I could lay upon my family – most of all, my mother – such a burden. My mother who loved babies, who had seven children of her own, who had had a miscarriage between my birth and my younger brother’s – a miscarriage she always carried in her heart her whole life; my mother who had been raised in an orphanage and knew the hurt and pain of rejection and yet the redeeming love and faithfulness of God – I could not bestow such a burden of heartbreak upon her. So, if our unborn child was going to be aborted, it would have to be a secret that I would need to keep for the rest of my life.
So, for my part, I restricted the knowledge of the situation to my best friend at the time, and to a trusted guidance counselor at our high school.
My girlfriend was clearly torn. She was scared for sure and she didn’t know what to do. She was being pulled in two very opposite directions. On one side was me, making the case for having the baby. On the other side, were her classmates, her best friend and her best friend’s mom, making the case for her to have an abortion.
There was no neutral ground. There was no easy way out of this decision. She would have to choose between giving birth or having an abortion.
Their side of the argument was that she was too young to be a mother; that she would be throwing her life away; that she would miss out on so much of life if she were to have a baby; that she would be stuck with this baby and the baby’s father (me) would leave her high and dry; that she would always be a single mom and no one would want her; that she would spend the rest of her life regretting having had a baby so young; that she would end up on welfare; that she would be looked down upon and judged a loser; that she could risk dying if she were to have a baby so young; they told her not to believe anything I said or trust anything I promised, that I would only be tricking her into having the baby and then would abandon her once the baby was born; etc., etc., etc.
They told her an abortion was the simple solution and that there was nothing to it. It was a quick and easy procedure and that she would be back on her feet in no time. Practically pain-free except for a little temporary discomfort afterwards. They told her an abortion would give her back her freedom and then she could just get on with her life as if nothing ever happened. They all pointed to their own abortions as examples of how easy it was to have an abortion and how it took care of the problem and no questions asked. One of her classmates even insisted that she would have another abortion if she were to get pregnant again.
On my part, I was at a clear disadvantage. I didn’t want to bombard my girlfriend with guilt. I didn’t want to use our Catholic upbringing to convince her that she would be committing a heinous sin against God. I didn’t want to say or do anything to manipulate her at all. But I did want her to consider this very real truth: abortion was a singular and final act. There was no turning back, no undoing it, no second chance. On the other hand, if she had the baby – there were many options. We could keep the baby, we could have a sibling raise the baby, we could let the baby be adopted by a couple who wanted a baby but couldn’t conceive one of their own – choose life and the baby would be given a chance.
Unfortunately, the other side’s argument was gaining ground. I was at a loss for what to do or say to persuade my girlfriend to have our baby. Her best friend and her best friend’s mother were applying all kinds of pressure and making all kinds of arguments for the abortion. A thought struck me, and I convinced my girlfriend to at least speak to one of her sisters. At first, she was hesitant but eventually agreed to tell one of her sisters, and it was the sister that I had specifically asked her to confide in, not necessarily her closest sister. I knew it was a gamble either way, since I wasn’t sure what this sister would say or do but I knew one thing about this sister: she had a conscience and would be open-minded.
Of course, the sister was devastated by the news. She was hurt and she was angry. And rightfully so, for she had now been placed into the midst of our dilemma – and she knew it was my doing that made her a part of the situation. The sister and I discussed the situation alone – just the two of us. And I made every argument I could to fight for the baby to be born. She respectfully listened – and then made every argument that the classmates, the best friend and the best friend’s mom had made. I made my final appeal based on the finality of abortion versus the possibilities of birth. The sister was quiet. The sister then said she had a best friend who was an RN and she and the RN would make an appointment with a doctor to at least have my girlfriend/her sister properly examined. I thought that made sense.
It wasn’t until after the doctor’s appointment occurred that I found out it was with a doctor who performed abortions. The sister told me that this was ultimately my girlfriend’s decision and that I had no say in the matter. I realized although she spoke to me with a stern defiance in her voice – it was with a heavy heart; as even she herself would have no say in the matter for it was a decision that she knew her sister would have to live with for the rest of her life. The doctor had recommended that if there was going to be an abortion, it should be as soon as possible.
I never felt so alone in my life.
I was lost and didn’t know what to do. I had no one to turn to and time was running out. I did the only thing I could do.
I prayed to God. If there was a way, He was going to have to show me.
My mom used to quote to me growing up, Proverbs 3:5-6, “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.”
My prayer was simple and honest:
Lord, you know all things. You know what is going on in my life. I know we are responsible for what has happened. But I also know what’s right here, and I know that Chris should not have an abortion. But I don’t know what to do or say now. Everything is out of my control. But I know that you can write straight with the crooked lines that we draw. Please Lord, help us, please help me.
And just like that the Holy Spirit provided the direction I needed. The Holy Spirit spoke to my own heart:
Christine is frightened. You are right not to make her feel guilty about this decision. That is not going to make the difference. The truth is, Christine deep down in her heart and soul doesn’t want to have an abortion. Christine wants to have this baby. She knows that she is carrying a baby; she already loves this baby with all her heart. You just have to convince her to be true to her heart. You just have to convince Christine to trust the love in heart that she has for her baby. Help her find the strength to believe in the love she has for her unborn child. Her love for her baby will prevail.
From that moment, my conversations with Chris focused on how she was truly feeling about the baby inside her. The Holy Spirit was absolutely correct – Christine was frightened for sure but as far as I could tell, did not want to have an abortion. The more we talked about it, the more convinced I was that Chris really wanted to have our baby. Deep down inside, Chris knew all the arguments her classmates and friends were making were false. Chris knew I was right – and she knew I was motivated by the only thing that mattered: love. I could have just sat back and let the course of events take place. I could have just let the others’ influence and persuade Chris into having an abortion. I had just applied to four major universities and had my whole life ahead of me. I could have just given up and let Chris have that abortion and then I could have gone on my merry way, even pretended I was off the hook because I had argued against the abortion but it was her decision to make so Chris would be responsible…
But I couldn’t do that to Chris. I couldn’t let her make a decision that I knew she would regret for the rest of her life. Not when I knew it wasn’t what she wanted. Not when I knew she wanted to have that baby and already loved that baby. I couldn’t stand idly by while Chris terminated the baby she already loved with every fiber of her being. I couldn’t do that to Chris – and I couldn’t do that to our baby, and I couldn’t, most of all, do that to our God. I couldn’t let them down.
It was a Friday afternoon, and Chris and I had a final conversation. Her sister and the RN had emphasized that Chris needed to make a decision. If she was going to have an abortion, it would have to be that next day, that Saturday. My last words to Chris were straightforward and simple:
I don’t believe you want to have an abortion. I believe you really want to have this baby. I’m not asking you to have this baby because I want you to, even though I do. I’m asking you to have this baby because it’s what you want deep down inside, in your own heart. You want to have this baby; you know you do. Why not listen to your own heart? I know this for sure: years from now, many years from now, you will look back on this moment, this decision, and you will never, ever regret having chosen life. As a matter of fact, you will always be grateful that you chose life. With life, there is always hope. And no matter what happens, God will never abandon you.
I remember later that evening, cutting through the empty high school gym, a song was playing on the school’s intercom. I listened and recognized the song – it was Herb Alpert’s This Guy’s In Love With You. It was a song I used to play for Chris when we first started dating. I made my way into the front entrance of the school where there was a telephone booth. Overcome by the intensity of the prior few weeks, and feeling terribly alone, I sat down in the telephone booth and cried.
The next morning, Chris called me.
We’re going to have a baby.
II. Winter, 2023 – The Aftermath
Chris gave birth to our son Robert on October 4, 1981. For those who have witnessed the birth of their child, nothing else in life compares to that wondrous event. In fact, from the moment a pregnancy is announced to the actual delivery of a baby – it is the most amazing transformation of life one could witness. And with each baby step and new word spoken and personality trait developed, it just becomes more incredible. Our second son, Justin was born on June 25, 1984. Unfortunately, Chris and I eventually divorced (entirely my fault) but we are still very close, and every Mother’s Day she thanks me for making her a mom and every Father’s Day I thank her for giving me the two greatest gifts of my life. Chris is happily remarried and has another son. Neither of us has ever regretted our decision. In fact, it is quite the opposite.
It will be forty-two years that our lives changed forever, and we would both say unequivocally it changed for the better. God has rewarded our faithfulness in Him by always being there for us and abundantly blessing us with healthy and beautiful children and grandchildren – who are not only our joy but individuals of great character, kind hearts, intelligence and fun! Despite a lot of the negative predictions that were made forty-two years ago, things turned out just fine. As for making a difference, I just want to give a few small examples of what really matters:
My son Robert came to me and said he was going to accompany his church’s pastor to Kyrgyzstan. I asked, “What the heck is in Kyrgyzstan?” Robert told me there was an orphanage there that his pastor visited at Christmas and would raise funds to bring so that he could provide Christmas dinner and presents to the orphans. Robert asked if he could go and help out. The pastor agreed but that Robert would have to pay his own way and help with the fundraising, etc., which Robert did. Just to give you an idea what that entails travel-wise, Robert flew from JFK to Moscow, which was an 11-hour flight. Then he had a 12-hour hold-over in Moscow where when he checked in, the Russian ticket agents asked for his passport, which Robert provided, and told him to wait there at the counter. After 11 and a half hours, they came back with his passport and Robert barely made it to the gate to catch his 5-hour flight from Moscow to Bishkek – the capital of Kyrgyzstan. Upon arriving in Bishkek, Robert got into a rigidity van and was driven about seven hours to the orphanage, which was converted from the army barracks of the former Soviet Union military. Robert spent seven days with the kids who were overjoyed that this stranger from the other side of the world would travel all that distance just to spend time with them and bring them Christmas dinner and presents. Robert did this twice. For the past eighteen years, Robert has been a teacher where he has taught autistic kids his entire teaching career. Throughout his adult life, Robert has been there for widows and other friends who have needed his help.
When our son Justin was a little boy, I came home from work, and Chris said to Justin, “tell daddy what happened at school today.” I asked Justin what happened. In a matter-of-fact tone, Justin explained that the kids were all out in the schoolyard at recess when Justin noticed a strange man lingering nearby where the kids were playing. Justin went around and told the other kids to go into the school right away. After Justin made sure all the kids were back in the school, he then stood guard at the door until the stranger left. (I did tell Justin that was commendable but next time to get inside the school as well). Another time, I was having breakfast with Justin at a diner one morning. The waitress had just sat us down at our booth, and as usual I was busy yapping away and Justin was listening and shaking his head. But I noticed that he was stealing glances behind me while I was talking and then suddenly Justin leapt up from the booth and hurried past me. I quickly turned around and saw Justin at another booth where a woman was struggling to get her elderly father out of the booth onto his walker. Justin assisted the man with his walker while directing the woman to go get their car and bring it around front. Then Justin escorted the man out and helped him get settled into the car. Justin returned to the booth, sat down and said “I’m sorry, dad, you were saying...?” Justin had open-heart surgery at the age of three. And was a star athlete in high school, the quarterback for the football team and centerfielder on the baseball team.
My granddaughter Brielle takes after her father. In the past few years, the teachers in her school have shared their observations of Brielle’s interactions with other kids in the classroom. If there is a child that is sitting alone at lunchtime, Brielle will go over and introduce herself and sit down and have lunch with that other child. If Brielle notices that another child doesn’t have a snack, she will share hers. Brielle evidently takes after her poppy as the teachers also shared that Brielle is never at a loss for words…
One morning, I was laying on my bed, not feeling particularly good about myself. The kids had stayed over and my grandson Drew made his way into the bedroom. He climbed up in bed and stretched out next to me, putting his head next to mine as we exchanged a good morning greeting. The two of us were just quietly laying there when Drew whispered into my good ear, “I love you, poppy.”
Reading these anecdotes, one may not think they are a big deal. But they are a big deal in that others’ lives are impacted. What if Robert had never been born – who would have visited those orphans? Who would be teaching those autistic kids? If there’s no Robert, then there’s no Justin to help that old man get to his car, or get those kids safely into the school when the stranger was lurking about. If there’s no Justin, there’s no Brielle to make some other child who feels left out to have someone make her or him a friend. Or there’s no Drew to make his grandfather feel loved.
III. Legacy and Redemption
To be honest, for a long time I was very angry about what had happened in the Winter of 1981. Angry at Christine’s classmates who tried to persuade her to have an abortion. I had taken it very personally that they interfered in what I believed to be something that was only of Christine’s and my concern. It wasn’t until many years later that I realized what was at stake for them. Up to that point, each of her classmates who had gotten pregnant, had had an abortion. They all had fallen victim to the lies and deception that were used to convince them that abortion was the only solution. They could not afford to have someone make the choice for life: it would undermine the fragile case that was made to them on the benefits of abortion. If Chris had our baby and everything turned out alright – which it did – then that would expose the fallacy of abortion as the best resolution to an unexpected pregnancy. Upon further reflection, it makes me feel sorry for those women. And, for their boyfriends who had equal responsibility in their pregnancy – and have equal responsibility in the decision to have an abortion. I know that some of those couples went on to get married and have other children. As difficult as things were for Chris and I in those early years, with all odds stacked against us, neither of us have ever regretted our decision to choose life. Considering all that we have shared with our children, and grandchildren, we know now what we would have missed out on if we didn’t choose life. I am reminded of that every day when Robert or Justin touch base with me, as Chris is when she spoils Brielle and Drew during sleepovers and goes swimming with them in her pool, one their favorite things to do with grandma.
And I was angry at some of my teachers at my high school. I remember walking around the outdoor track at the high school one evening with one of the teaching brothers with whom I was close at the time. I still recall his words to me: “Well, you’ve gone and ruined your whole life. Law school? You will never even graduate college now. You will likely end up working in some blue collar job or in retail. What a waste.” Some thoughts on that: one, I did graduate college, and went on to earn my law degree, and am admitted to practice in NY and NJ; second, what is wrong with a career in the trades or retail? Especially since after taxes, the majority of my money goes to tradesmen (whose hourly rates, when annualized are equivalent to vascular surgeons’ salaries) and to retail establishments. But seriously, the point being here, it didn’t matter whether I became a truck driver, or Chris married a carpenter, or we worked at Dunkin Donuts – what matters is that we were faithful to God and we did what was right in God’s eyes. And God has never abandoned us.
Over the years, I have known women who have shared with me that they had abortions and some of them have expressed that they have no regrets. A part of me wants to believe they don’t really mean that but then I have no reason to doubt them. Again, that is their choice and prerogative to take that position.
But I would offer this proposition for their consideration: according to Jeremiah 1:5, God knows us even before we physically exist:
Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart…
In Psalm 139, David describes God’s personal handiwork in creating each baby in the womb and how God has an acutely personal interest in each one of us:
For you created my inmost being;
You knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
When I was made in the secret place,
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
All the days ordained for me were written in your book
Before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand-
When I awake, I am still with you.
Years ago, in a conversation about abortion with a Franciscan brother, he explained that an abortion is not the end of life for the unborn. The spirit of that unborn baby had come from God and therefore, it would return to God. This is consistent with what King Solomon wrote in the Book of Ecclesiastes 12:7 -
Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was; and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.
In recalling that conversation, I pondered his words and the significance of his insight into the destiny of the unborn. What becomes of these innocent ones?
The answer is found in the Book of Isaiah:
Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!
For whatever way society may choose to describe it, a woman’s right to have an abortion (“of a child” as our current President recently described it) is a rejection of the baby in her womb. And what better advocate for the rejected than the One who understands rejection better than anyone could ever imagine: Jesus. He who is Love was rejected by the very beings who He created, who He loves, and who He died for, willingly and freely, in order to express His love. It is inconceivable that the One who is so familiar with rejection, suffering and hurt, would not welcome the aborted babies (who are rejected, suffer and hurt) into His open and loving arms.
I remember as a young altar boy, overhearing one of the priests say that it was difficult to preach a sermon on abortion because of the number of women in the parish who had chosen to have an abortion. At the time, I thought that wasn’t a very good reason to not speak against it, especially if one was a Catholic priest. But in retrospect, I now understand that the priest was actually voicing his internal conflict that while he believed abortion was wrong and a sin against God, he had no interest in condemning those women who had made that choice, for whatever reason. But the priest missed out on an opportunity to offer these women the hope of healing grace and mercy from a loving Heavenly Father, who has no interest in condemning them either.
As previously stated, I know women who shared with me that they had abortions. The usual position was that it was the right decision at the right time for them. And they wouldn’t change their decision, even looking back. This included women who went on to have children later in life.
I do not judge these women (or any other women) for their choices nor would I ever want to take away their right to choose.
But that brings us to a very real spiritual dilemma: those aborted babies still exist.
They were and are eternal beings imbued with the divine spirit of God. Although their physical existence was aborted, their spirits, as attested to in the Book of Ecclesiastes, still live on in heaven in the presence of God.
And here is the truth and beauty of their existence: they have no anger or resentment or hostility or hate toward their earthly mothers. There is no condemnation. They have only faith, hope and love.
Faith in that their mothers will believe in the healing mercy and grace of God our heavenly Father, who these babies have grown up in the glorious presence of while waiting for their mothers.
Hope in that their mothers will soften their own hearts, let go of their pride, or their guilt, or their remorse, or their shame, and call out to God for redemption and reconciliation, and that God will forgive them just as their babies have forgiven them. These babies want their mothers to know there is a second birth that can take place that makes all things new again!
Love in that they know if their mothers will reach out to God, then their mothers, like they themselves, can be spiritually and eternally reborn, and renewed, and, more importantly, restored and reconciled with their babies but most of all, with God, their heavenly Father.
Oh, happy day it will be when the mother and child are reconciled in love and forgiveness, and the words of Jesus from the parable will come to full realization:
That which was lost, is found;
That which was dead, is alive again…
Dedicated to my mom, who my sister Regina believes spends her time in heaven looking after God’s nursery filled with all the babies waiting to be re-united with their mothers…
