It was the summer of 1984. I was worshipping regularly back
then, just not Jesus but baseball. My dream was to play ball in college and
hopefully beyond. My hopes and dreams would be interrupted that summer by a
knock on the door.
Just a few days after high school graduation, I got on a
plane to Hawaii with several classmates. We spent a week in paradise doing what
young people enjoy doing when there are no parents and a drinking age of 18.
When we returned, I spent the next two months worshipping at the altar of baseball…until
that knock on the door.
The knock that changed my heart came on a late August day. At
the door, stood a friend and classmate that I had been with in Hawaii. She said,
“I am pregnant. You are the father.” Those words changed my life. I really
don’t remember the rest of the conversation, only the conclusions: We thought
we were too young and had too much to look forward to. We couldn’t be parents
now. Then there was the sound of the machine at the clinic and the sound of
silence as I drove her home from the procedure.
I know what you are thinking. I think it too, almost every day
of my life: “How could you?” I wish I had a better answer than selfishness and fear.
It took nine months before that knock on the door would truly penetrate my
heart. College had started. Baseball was going well, but something was wrong.
Not with my swing, but with my soul. I was struggling to fill the void of
sorrow with something, anything.
There would be another sound. On a spring day in 1985, I was
pushing a grocery cart down the aisle when I heard a baby cry. Hungry, tired,
in need of a change? I am not sure. What was clear was they were the sounds of
life. Sounds I would never hear from the child I had fathered. I left my cart
and fled the store. I realized that months earlier I had made a horrible
mistake. The cries of a baby meant life. What had I done? How do I deal with my
guilt?
With questions on my heart, I began to search for answers. My
search would eventually lead me to read the Bible. I learned God is the Creator
of life (Psalm 139; Jer. 1:5) and children are gift from the Lord (Psalm
127:3). I learned that all life is
precious to God (Psalm 8:3-5). I realized my decision of convenience took a
life God held dearly. As I kept reading the Good Book, I realized there was no
way to make it right. I simply needed forgiveness and grace (Eph. 1:7). I had
taken a life and now my life was in trouble. I needed God’s forgiveness (Col.
1:14). So on May of 1985, in the student union building at college, I prayed,
“Jesus if you are real, here’s my life.”
Several months after becoming a Christian, I would eventually
ask the mother of my first child to forgive me. She was gracious…and forgiving.
Today, she is married with children and serving the cause of Christ. Me? By
God’s grace, I have a wonderful wife, two children, three grandchildren, and a
ministry I love. I do play softball once a week with some guys from the church,
but my life dreams have changed. As Pastor, I am most passionate about helping
lost people find forgiveness in Jesus Christ.
Those touched by abortion have
a special place in my heart. I know the scars, and I know forgiveness. In 93%
of the abortions in our country, convenience is the primary reason a life is
taken.[1]
That’s a heavy burden many men and women carry. Because of a knock at my door,
because of a cry in a store, and because of the sounds of God’s amazing forgiveness
and grace, God has allowed me stand for life today. Many don’t realize the most
dangerous places today is not the frontline of battle, behind the walls of a prison,
or the inner city streets. With an estimated one in four children aborted
today, the most dangerous place is the womb of mother.
The scars of abortion need not define anyone. Jesus wants to
forgive and remove the burden of guilt. If I can help you experience the sounds
of God’s amazing grace, please let me know. mypastor@missionhillschurch.org.
[1] Aida
Torres and J.D. Forrest, “Why Do Women Have Abortions?,” Family
Planning Perspectives, Vol. 20 NO. 4
(July/August 1988), p. 170.
