Recognize the Rescue

Have you ever tried to rescue someone and they just wouldn’t let you? Did they keep heading in a destructive direction and sinking further into their pit rather than taking your hand and letting you pull them out?

I’ve been that pit digger and dweller myself.

My husband and I had been dating for about 18 months when we discovered I was pregnant. We never allowed ourselves to get over the shock of it so that we could think logically. Instead we acted hastily and sought an abortion within hours.

It was December 31st, 1990. We were on vacation in Florida. He bought a test to confirm what I had been denying. It was positive. We were devastated.

He did a quick run-down of the options–parent, place for adoption, and abortion. I initially shot them all down, but that last option–the worst option as I would later discover–sadly started taking root in my heart.

We grabbed the phone book and dashed to the yellow pages.  We searched the word abortion, found a couple of options and their addresses, and headed off to take care of it.

After driving for hours trying to locate those places in an unfamiliar town, we finally realized that it was New Year’s Eve. Nothing was open. I cried.

God was trying to rescue us, but we didn’t realize it.

We made the 12 hour trek home the next day in silence. Still pregnant. Still devastated. Still crying.

On January 2, we drove to the closest town and attempted to locate Planned Parenthood. It did not exist in that town. I cried.

God was trying to rescue us, but we didn’t realize it.

We remembered seeing a sign saying “Crisis Pregnancy Center” along the strip where we cruised with our high school friends. We drove there–an hour away–and entered that clinic.

There we were greeted by a blonde-haired, blue-eyed smiling lady. We told her we wanted some information about abortion. She said she could give us information but first offered a free pregnancy test for confirmation.

As expected, it was positive. I cried. My circumstances hadn’t changed.

That sweet lady told us that they did not refer for abortions. I couldn’t fathom why not. After all, I was in a definite crisis situation and weren’t they a “Crisis Pregnancy Center”?

She talked through our options. She mentioned parenting. We told her we were in college and parenting didn’t seem logical. She mentioned adoption. He told her that my heart wouldn’t be able to take that. There was no way I could carry a baby for 9 months and give it away. Also, that wouldn’t solve my pride problem. Remember, I was afraid of what people would say.

She asked me about dates and such and tried to help me figure out how far along I was in the pregnancy. We were uncertain but had a general idea. She opened a book and began showing us pictures of fetal development. I remember my heart sinking. I remember nothing about the conversation from that point on.

We left. I cried.

God was trying to rescue us, but we didn’t realize it.

We sat in the car in the parking lot. I sobbed. Then, I looked up.

Just across the parking lot was another building. Planned Parenthood.

We entered.

I don’t remember anything about the nurse who talked to us other than she was a woman. She did another pregnancy test. It was positive.

How could something signaling positive feel so negative?

My situation still hadn’t changed. I cried.

The Planned Parenthood woman chastised me for not coming to her first and the sweet blonde lady next door for “making me feel guilty.” We defended the sweet lady and said that she was doing the right thing.

She, too, asked me about dates and such. In our state in 1991, one could not obtain an abortion after 12 weeks. She examined me to better determine the baby’s size.

She said that we would have to go outside of the state. We were relieved…because that meant no one we knew could possibly see us going into a clinic out of state. In our minds, our reputation would stay intact, even if our pregnancy didn’t. She made the appointment for 8 days later. We had time to change our mind.

God was trying to rescue us, but we didn’t realize it.

That day came. I lied to my parents and said that we were going on a trip for him to look at a truck. I totally lied. I don’t remember ever doing that with my parents. Ever.

The day was cold and rainy and so was my heart.

We entered the clinic. He sat with me in the waiting room. He paid the receptionist. They called me into the back room. I cried.

I sat there among other girls. Other women. All, like me, were silent. All, like me, looked at the floor. No eye contact. No conversation. Silence.

As our names were called, we each walked through a little closet and traded our clothes for a gown. Then each of us sat in the closet and waited our turn. In a closet.

Oh, the foreshadowing. I had no idea that I would spend my next ten years in a closet of sorts. A closet of despair. A closet of shame. A closet of regret.

I remember entering that room but not a lot of details about it. I was silent. Other than telling me that my baby was 10 weeks along, the doctor–a man–was silent. The nurse–a woman–was silent. She held my hand.

I have no idea how long I was in that room. I don’t remember any anesthesia. If it was administered, it was local, and it didn’t work.

I experienced the worst pain of my life that day. Not only in the depths of my body, but in the depths of my soul.

I had chosen to extinguish the life of my baby. My first baby.

Not once had I prayed to God for help. I had been taught that prayer was a lifeline, but I didn’t turn to Him. He, however, continued to beckon me.

God had placed many obstacles in my way to keep me from making that decision, and I averted them.

He had also placed boundaries around me to keep me from ever being in this situation. I averted them, as well. In God’s plan, sex is meant for a husband and a wife. Sex is  to unify and strengthen. It is meant to be a beautiful union. It is not meant to cause anxiety and heartache.

As I look back over my life, God tried to rescue me from several situations, but I was so bent on my own desires that I didn’t realize it. He reached out to me, but I didn’t take His hand.

With every temptation that the Enemy presents, God gives us a safety net. 1 Corinthians 10:13 says, “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful, he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.”

God sends rescue. He sends us a way out. Do we recognize it?

Sometimes we don’t want to see it, because we want what we want. But it’s still there.

Maybe the way out isn’t easy, but it’s easier than the alternative. The good, right thing isn’t usually easy.

God sends rescue. Look for it. Take it.