When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. 15Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” 16And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.
I received this heartfelt article from my friend in prison, Katie. Please understand where she is coming from, where she was and where Jesus has brought her to today. SHE is one of the children Jesus loves!
Now, here’s Katie.
Forgiveness. Sometimes I don’t feel forgiven, other times I do feel forgiven, but feel like I am not deserving. I’ve traveled a noticeable distance on the road of forgiveness. I have asked God to forgive me for the person I’d become. I’ve been graciously forgiven by many of the family and friends I’ve hurt. I’ve also grown to forgive many people who’ve hurt me. Some of them don’t know I’ve forgiven them. It’s still healing.
It’s hard when a body feels that certain things in their past are unforgivable. Or, less forgivable than others. It’s hard to move forward when you’ve surrendered mostly everything to God but feel like there’s still that one thing still lurking in the shadows. It’s mind-blowing how ONE thing can still keep your head half-way under water. It’s that one thing that’s often not talked about, that’s kept buried deep inside. But sooner or later you must set it free. Before it eats you alive.
In prison a conversation starter is commonly our kids and family life. People notice my pictures and ask, “How many children do you have?” I answer by saying ‘three,’ but ‘four’ threatens to spill out like vomit and I choke on it. “Four” has been echoing inside me for a few years now. Because of my addiction and lifestyle, I hurt the three children I have, and the fourth unborn child, which almost no one knew about. And no matter how many times I say, “Dear God, forgive me!” It’s still haunting me. I’m not sure what else to do, so maybe I have to talk about it. Maybe that’s part of setting it free.
There’s no handbook for ‘Moving on From Choosing the Needle Over Your Baby.” Maybe there should be. I dream about my three girls a lot. I also dream about a nameless faceless baby. Sometimes it’s a bumbling bundle of joy. The other night, the baby was dead and stuck to my arms; no amount of prying could disentangle me. I woke up from those dreams drenched in sweat and sick to my stomach.
On the day I murdered my baby, I drove to a clinic over an hour away where no one would recognize me. I blended in with the hustle and bustle; no one paid any attention to me except for one man. He’s been standing on the sidewalk, alone, not with any of the passers-by. There were the huge crowds of protesters that you usually hear about. He stood and spoke with on one but zeroed in on me when he saw where I was heading. He wore a blue jacket and a baseball cap. I was severely underweight, swimming in a large jacket. I could have been going to that clinic for numerous reasons. But it’s like he knew. It’s like he saw through my big clothes, skin and bones and saw a beating heart. He saw through everything, straight to my heart and the direction I was taking. To this day I feel like I turned my back on an angel.
He said to me; “your baby deserves life.” I said nothing and went in. I was living an ugly meaningless life and I still chose that over the baby’s life. I justified it by saying this is better than bringing a heroin addicted baby into the world. I lied to the Doctor’s and nurses about everything. They asked if I had taken any street drugs in the last 48 hours. I told them no. When they tried to draw blood and noticed my track marks, I lied and said I was newly sober and unable to care for the baby. They’re not stupid, but they didn’t really care. They had to do a mandatory ultra-sound and I begged the technician to keep the image turned away. I was floored when she said the baby was 16 weeks. I was always so strung out, I had no idea how far along I really was. Almost halfway through a pregnancy and it’s legal! A whole baby…just not gestationally mature yet. GOD, FORGIVE ME!
My heart breaks for Katie, and all the young women who made this difficult choice. We have no right to judge, you can see the circumstances were dire in Katie’s case. We need to forgive the women who made this excruciating choice, gather around them and remind them, they are forgiven. Best news, all these children, over 61,000,000 of them, are being cared for and loved in Heaven by our God! Come back tomorrow for the conclusion of “Jesus Loves the Little Children”
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