Sing, O Barren Woman
Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again…My lips will shout for joy when I sing praise to you.” (Psalm 71:20,23)
The leather office chair was not designed for comfort. “Sit, but do not relax,” it seemed to convey – “stay but do not linger.” Responding, I shifted uncomfortably as I waited for the doctor. Before me sat a massive cherry desk that dominated the room. Yet it was the one thin manila file folder in the center that captivated my attention. It was my patient record, and the desk seemed dwarfed by that one, thin file. I felt its incredible prominence- sitting there, unmoving yet holding such essential information about my life. As my doctor sat down and opened the file, he lifted his eyes slowly and told me that he had been stunned by the results of my biopsy. In the next moments I learned I had Stage IV cervical cancer. My life stopped. Because of the advanced stage of my cancer, the only treatment recommended to me was a hysterectomy. I was 28 years old, a newlywed, and facing barrenness.
As the weeks and months following my diagnosis and surgery passed, I struggled with fear, anger and depression. I believed I was being punished for having had an abortion at 19. Like so many others in my situation, I saw an abortion as a solution to a pregnancy that would have prevented me from finishing college and sent me back home in shame after my freshman year, a scenario I just couldn’t imagine. And, almost 10 years later, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that I was getting what I deserved. I had squandered the first life God had placed in my care, and now that I was ready to begin having a family, who was I to expect another chance? To me it seemed like justice.
All those years in-between my abortion and my cancer diagnosis, I had lived in denial. I told myself it was just a blob of tissue and not a human being, that I was making the best decision for my future and most importantly, that God would forgive me. I kept it hidden and became incredibly driven in college to succeed. I think I needed to prove to myself that I had made the right decision. Getting my education became my rationalization and feminism became my excuse because it was my body. But that day in my doctor’s office, and with that patient file, God began to chip away at my carefully thought out excuses. Loosing my ability to have children of my own caused me to confront my past. It brought me to my knees as everything I had chosen to believe about my choice came crashing down around me. As I faced the truth about abortion – that it takes a life and not a lump of cells – and as I beheld my sin through God’s eyes, I was devastated. It was the beginning of my healing journey.
Over the next four years God began to deal with my wounded heart by leading me to a crisis pregnancy center where I received post-abortion healing counseling through the help of Forgiven and Set Free, a bible study written for post-abortive women. I was shocked to learn about post-abortion stress syndrome and the health risks of abortion, and I felt angry that I had not been given this information when I was making my choice. As I recognized myself in the symptoms of post-abortion stress, I realized that while I had accepted God’s forgiveness and forgiven myself, I had not yet begun to see my child as a real person that needed to be grieved. In essence, I had been stuck in the grieving process, unable to move beyond depression and detachment into acceptance. It seemed impossible to grieve a child that was not tangible to me. I knew I needed to seek God for a name so one day I sat down with pen and paper and prayed. Almost immediately the name “Holly Maria” came to my mind and so I began a letter to my child…”Dear Holly.” I cried the whole time as I wrote to her about how sorry I was and about how deeply I missed her. I looked up the meaning of her names and learned that “Holly” means “pure spirit” and “Maria,” means “living fragrance.” When I discovered that her middle name comes from myrrh, the fragrance offered to Jesus by the wise men in worship, I imagined her as a worshipper, dancing before the throne of God. Even now, my eyes fill with tears as I recall that precious time and as I remember my sweet daughter.
It was God’s plan to restore me, and in the process He gave me a passion for post-abortion ministry. I didn’t count on being diagnosed with cancer, being barren, or that someday my husband and I would be called to the healing ministry that is a crisis pregnancy center. But what I really didn’t count on was God’s mercy and restoration joy. Our adopted baby daughter was born on October 12, 2004 and when we asked God for a name, He gave us “Maria.” In addition to “living fragrance,” the name “Maria” also means “bitter waters” and comes from the story of the waters of Marah in the Old Testament. Just as God made the waters sweet so his people could drink, He has made my bitter waters sweet. When I held my little Maria in my arms and tears ran down my face, I sung praises to God in my heart…for his mercy, for his forgiveness, for his great kindness and for unspeakable JOY!!!