Yesterday’s story ended with a pregnant, scared, and distraught teenager. How could this situation have happened to her? All of a sudden the magnitude of her apathy descended like a heavy blanket, smothering and oppressive. What was she going to do? She couldn’t tell her parents; she assumed they would disown her. She couldn’t tell her pastor; after all, she was a “good girl.” She couldn’t tell the college; she assumed she would lose her scholarship and her place with the incoming freshmen. So, she found her ex and told him.
He threatened to sue for custody; he threatened to make her life as miserable as possible. He refused to sign for an adoption. She had absolutely no intention of marrying him and raising a child with him. She was scared and felt trapped. Her only course of action seemed to be to terminate the pregnancy as soon after her eighteenth birthday as possible. A friend – who had had an abortion the previous year – lent the money. As hard as it is for me to write this, the girl in our story – me – had a second trimester abortion. It was a two-day affair. Her mother had guessed what was happening after the first day. When cornered, our girl told her mother everything. Instead of casting her away, though, her mother began to brainstorm ways that they could keep the baby. She started listing support options. The hardest thing our girl ever had to do was to tell her mother that it was too late. The process had started, and it was irreversible. The next day during the actual procedure, our girl cried throughout the entire ordeal. She cried on the ride home. And she made a promise to herself: she would never marry. And if, in some alternate reality she found someone who could love her – warts and all – and who she could give her entire heart to – if it was ever complete again – she would never have children. She was not worthy. She had her chance, and she squandered it. How many chances does one person get at happiness? How many chances does one person get before God cuts her off? How many times can one person willfully and knowingly tear out her Savior’s heart? How could she ever be whole again? Thankfully, no matter how much a person hates herself, she can never outrun God’s love, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
Our girl spent the rest of the summer keeping to herself and trying to rebuild some semblance of her life while preparing for college. August rolled around, and she left for a school four hundred miles away, ready to start over. She found a group of friends and threw herself into college life. She learned to fake a smile and even got a job solely for the brightness of that smile. She majored in biochemistry/pre-medicine. And she stayed away from relationships altogether. Her best friend in college, a guy, developed a crush but she kept him at arm’s length by telling him she wasn’t yet over her ex – which was actually true. Her first love? The boy who shattered her heart? They were talking again……all night at times. He said he wanted to try again. She was ecstatic, but in reality, they were just phone conversations every night. Then he changed his mind, over and over again. Back and forth and back and forth – for the entire school year.
Through it all, though, something happened. Between the amazing atmosphere of Asbury College and the gentle healing of the Holy Spirit, our girl’s heart began to take shape again. The spring semester ended, and our girl was ready to come home again. Her first love wanted to meet to talk in person. They did, and he told her she was his only love, and he thought they should try again. Whether it was the healing or the vacillation of the previous year, our girl didn’t buy the pitch, and she told him she wasn’t sure she could handle that. It might just be too “weird.” Lo and behold, two days later he said that it would not work after all. Instead of being crushed, our girl felt nothing. And then something truly remarkable happened that weekend…
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