Easter Miracle

John 3:16

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.

The miracles are coming
But they’ve been here the whole time
In the brokenness of spirit
Where He calls us each, His mine

The miracles are coming
In the peace where pain resides
Only His love remains constant
In Him alone I hide

The miracles are coming
Never alone I need to be
Praise God for His omnipotence
His gift of Son for Me

Psalm 139:13-14

I share my story in hopes another woman will not have to share hers
I share my story because in my youth I chose to end a life.

As a teenager in the 70’s I was kind of a wild child. Actually I was a wild non-conforming geek, with little to no self esteem. At sixteen I wanted no one to tell me what to do. At the same time, if you offered to love me/like me I would do whatever you asked. If you loved me enough, maybe I could love me too.

Just after turning 16 I met a boy who told me he liked me. I just knew he would love me if I gave him whatever he wanted. So, an emotionally immature child had sex to force someone to love her and with that decision came a lifetime of regret.
With that decision I forced myself to make a choice no mother should ever make.
With that decision I chose to abort/terminate/kill my child. With that decision, I have carried 43yrs of painful remorse.

Back in the 1970’s Roe vs Wade had just come to be and I wish to God it had not. I believe because abortion was so newly legalized “those is charge” were “loose cannons” and not prepared to counsel but rather (and I lived it and saw it) to bring the the lambs to slaughter.

When I had told my boyfriend I was pregnant, he wanted to know who the father was? He also dumped me so hard my dad threatened to physically put the hurt on him. My poor parents, mom told me she would support me whatever I decided. My dad felt different. He wanted me to go back to normal (poor dad he didn’t seem to get it, that normal was not an option). He thought, now that abortion was legal, we could terminate the problem and get on with life. I was so immature and had no idea the choice I made would forever change me. I couldn’t see that there were those waiting to assist me in the choice to murder my child.

At just about 12 weeks my mother took me to a local Dr. The Dr. for whatever reason told me I was far enough along that I would have to wait until I was seventeen weeks. I was so stupid and to this day I do not understand what the heck happened. I was a kid who didn’t know anything of sex except, I thought it could get you love. I had no idea as to what this Dr. was talking about.

Now I will interject here, that before the final decision to abort was made I had one teacher who was kind enough to tell me, there were places for girls like me to go and have their babies. As a selfish teenager I could only think of myself not wanting to give up my unstable teenage life, I chose what I thought was the easy way out.
I went in at 17 weeks (my sister had said I was farther along than that, apparently I have still chosen to not be able to remember) pregnant to have a late term abortion. I remember a fifteen year old girl in the room also that day. The Dr. inserted a needle into our abdomens I have always thought he injected our children with saline? All I remember is both of us went through labor and that the Dr. laid my dead son on my tummy. It was all very matter of fact to him, it seemed.

Back to why I have chosen to share this story. I carried the shame of this horror for many years before I discussed it with anyone other than my sister.  I never wanted to exploit my dead son and I thought if I never spoke of it, I was somehow protecting him. The reality is I did not protect him but I have the chance to protect other children and women.
Six  years ago I attended a Christian led group full of many other women who also had lived the horror that comes with the choice to abort. It was so painful to admit to and relive the choices we all made. As I sat in the group I just couldn’t get over how many other women were suffering and missing the children we chose not to have.
Again I must interject, I have always been a person who does not want anybody telling me what to do. I was such a liberal, once upon a time. So I understand fully why people want to make their own choices. But I also understand that with choice must come honesty. If you choose to abort, you choose to murder and with that comes a pain you will live with the rest of your life.
If the heartbeat of a fetus is detectable at 6 weeks and I believe brain waves are as well, it is in my opinion murder if you choose to end that life?   As one who did make that choice I will tell you, you may eliminate a child’s physical presence, you will most likely also feel the sense of relief in thinking your burden has been lifted.  The reality is however that many feel that child’s presence in pain the rest of their lives.  The relief is replaced by shock, numbness, guilt, loss and shame.  It is odd how in life we can miss something so much that we chose not to have.

My prayer is that we choose to educate and no longer terminate. As our children struggle with the many issues that come with adolescence, educate them as to the realities that come with the choices they make.
My prayer is that we cultivate a revival of respect. I believe as we encourage our young to respect others, they in turn develop self-respect which is needed to make responsible choices in life.
My prayer is that we adults celebrate the moral responsibility that we are obliged to carry.

Again I share my story, not to judge you but to save another women from the aftermath of pain that comes with abortion.
I share my story for the countless unborn children and I pray someday the holocaust we continue to inflict ends.

God  ALWAYS manages to take the dark and ugly and brings it into the light of His beauty.

When God Met Mike On Biscuit Rock

I will preface this by saying, this is not my story but my brother Mike’s.

My brother is an almost 53 yr old man, who has the demeanor of and carries himself with a quiet but powerful strength. My brother has the adventurous spirit of a wanderer. To me he has always been not so much searching but rather participating in the wonder of that wander.

My brother is much loved by many a friend, his brother, sister’s, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, brother’s in laws, aunt’s, uncles, cousins and most certainly by his adoring wife Darlene.
The love of his life and for a very long time his saving grace has been Darlene. Darlene I believe, is now and will remain always Mikes soul mate. I have never in all my life seen anyone love another, as Mike loves his spouse.

It was for Mike and Darlene, that the story began on Biscuit Rock some 19 yrs ago. They were young, in love and both crazy for the out of doors, so a camping they decided to go. With a small tent, 2 sleeping bags and a cooler they were off to delight in all that nature had to offer. As Darlene tells it they went up a highway that took them to the beautiful Uncompahgre Canyon, Colorado. They kept driving until just around the bend Biscuit Rock (because it looks like a biscuit, go figure) came into view.
They had to cross a bridge which led them to Biscuit Rock. (As I’m writing I’m reminded of how many more bridges there would be to cross in their lives and how much that Rock symbolized for my brother a love never shaken and forever constant.)
The two worked together but struggled to get the small tent upright. After much effort they just threw in the sleeping bags and called it a wrap. Sometime through the night the rain began to fall and it didn’t take much to collapse the tent on top of the two lovebirds. So as the rain fell, so did they down the incline of the hill adjacent to Biscuit Rock. All the while they remained wrapped up snug in the middle of their collapsed tent. They were wet but together and managed to sleep well through the night. All these many years later those two have kept that story close to heart. Sometimes a memory can be the best of medicine.

Now we jump ahead 19 plus years. Mike and Darlene have been married for sometime and their bond has grown stronger throughout the years.

At this point in the story, is when I reference back to crossing the bridge on the way to the Rock. It was over two years ago that Mike and Darlene had a huge bridge to cross in the form of Mikes colon cancer diagnosis. He has remained strong and fought valiantly to cross that bridge with dignity, hope and a fierce tenacity.
Upon Mikes diagnosis he did share with Darlene that when his time came it was back there on the Rock he desired to be.
So not too very long ago he and Darlene decided it was time to go back. Mike needed to go back.

Darlene’s entire family lives there in Colorado but as with most families life and circumstance can take a huge toll. The family had not spent much time together as a unit and like most of us, each had their own cross to bare.

Now with all that said Mike and Darlene didn’t impose on any. They were not in the mind to solicit a family gathering of any kind. They were both just happy to be together and heading to a place where my brother knew he needed to be. Thank God Darlene’s nephew Paul had something else in mind altogether. Paul had rented a twelve person van to transport all on the search for the Rock. Eleven family members and one dog came together on this trip to be blessed on Biscuit Rock. Keep in mind it had been many, many years since this family had all been together in one place at the same time.

The family drove for a very long time in the attempt to locate Mikes beloved Rock. Neither Mike or Darlene were sure of the location but they both knew they would recognize it and so, they eventually did. When the van parked and all passengers disembarked they each started off in their own direction.
Grandson’s Jacob and Brayden went to hike Biscuit Rock. Nephew Paul was off to photograph all the splendor. Brandon, another nephew and his girlfriend were just off to walk. Darlene’s son Dwayne was busy keeping a vigilant eye on his boys. Brandon’s dad Joel and Darlene’s sister Bobby hung out at the van with Mike and Darlene until Mike said he needed to go off on his own. He wanted to be alone with God. My brother was with God that day and my quiet, reserved, ever so strong brother was moved to tears and exhausted upon his return to the van.

It was then, as Darlene tells it that she and Mike knew God’s spirit of grace was at hand that day. Each and every family member was guided by a gentle spirit to join my brother and share their own memories, tears, healing and love. What a gift for my brother to hear how he had influenced their lives, what a gift for them as well.
Grandson Brayden had a piece of the rock as a gift and so Mike would always have it with him.

For Mike and Darlene both, they have never felt such a presence of spirituality and love as in that day. The feeling remained throughout their trip and into a visit with Darlene’s sister Gretchen, who due to her own health issues had not been able to attend. God’s blessing continued as Darlene was also able to spend time with her best friend Marilyn.

Darlene says the trek home from Colorado to Arizona was an arduous one. She said they came upon severe weather in the form of deep snow, rain, ice and fog. There were times when they were out on a deserted two lane highway in 2 feet of snow and she just kept driving with the song “Jesus take the wheel” playing in her head.

After my brother returned from his trip, he called me and asked me to please help translate his blessing into words. My brother wanted to share his story as the love he experienced was shared with him that day when God met him on Biscuit Rock.