Todays Readings: Monday of the fourth week of Lent
Admittedly, I could probably be placed in the category for most of my life. However, in my post abortion conversion experience, I experienced many signs and wonders. The first came just hours after my second abortion. Prior to my appointment, I had made all the necessary provisions to make my post abortion recovery as easy as possible to care for myself. I stocked my kitsch with healthy and comfort foods. I made sure I had my favorite teas and clean blankets and sheets, I set up my knitting supplies by the couch and picked out shows I could watch while my body could heal.
As I cared for myself on my couch, with my dog by my side, I set out to knit a scarf. I was a new knitter and I was loving it. I was using a pale blue yarn, unintentionally, and as I began to knit, I saw a vision of my son, that I had just aborted, wearing a pale blue knit cap. There was no mistaking what I was seeing in my mind’s eye. When you know, you know. At that moment I knew it was a boy, and I was grace with a glimpse at his beautiful face. And that was the end of and easy self-care. The truth came crushing down on me and although I could manage daily life, I had to seek out professional support depth of despair I was trying to cope with.
Having met with other post abortive women, I learned that not all of us are given the gift of seeing our baby’s face. After my first abortion, some 22 years earlier, I did not have a vision of her face, but I knew she was a girl.
There were many, many signs and wonders throughout my healing process. There was the moment during a guided meditation wherein I looked into Jesus’ eyes for the first time and saw my children were with him. And there were numerous, and I mean numerous desperate despairing moments alone in my apartment, full of anguish and cuddled up in a ball on the couch where I begged for a sign for help, and the many different responses I received that let me know he really was there with me.
Two years after my second abortion, my father lay dying from stage 4 cancer. I was still in a deep depression over my abortion, and struggling with the decline of my father. During prayer, I had a little daydream about my baby and the cycle of life, and my father and his impending death, and I saw this journey from god and returning to him. Skeptic that I am, I thought, “Oh that’s kind of nice, thanks.” But in the days and moments that followed, God gave me signs that it wasn’t just a hallmark sentiment he was sharing with me. I began to realize that it was the truth. When my father died on the morning of my birthday, it was the greatest sign and confirmation of what God was trying to teach me. We come from Him, and we return to Him, and we are here on borrowed time from Him. I was heeled by this so deeply, it has taken years to unpack and even begin to scratch the surface of this new understanding.
Today, ask for signs with a true and honest heart, from a place of honesty and openness, and wait for an answer, in His time, you will get one.