“This is an abortion clinic! What is she doing here?” I thought as a stranger entered the room. “She does not look like a person who should be having an abortion.”

The girl resembled a preppy teenager with short red hair and clear pale skin. “Likely a college student who didn’t use contraception,” I assumed, judging her.

Bright red splotches appeared over her neck revealing her obvious stress and discomfort in this dark environment. She walked like a terrified lamb, obviously ready to flee the spirit of death that encircled her heart.

Pulling cash out of her purse, the red head delivered the abortion fee at the payment desk. Services must be paid for in advance at this abortion firm.

The receptionist took the cash and handed the teen a clip board. As she sat down near me, I saw a tear fall from the corner of her eye.

As I watched, she carefully completed the requested information. I speculated that she listed a fake name like so many others in the room. Then I discounted that idea based on her seemingly pure presentation.

She only appeared innocent. She clearly was not since she was sitting alone in an abortion clinic.

When she completed the clipboard task, she stared at the other women in the room. Most were quietly weeping. Then she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.

I could read her body language. There was a strange ambiance of holiness that seemed to encircle her. That Godly vibe did not fit in those surroundings.

“She’s likely a church girl,” I reasoned. “Afraid to be caught in a trap of sexual sin. She’s such a hypocrite! Imagine if her mother knew where she was right now.”

Suddenly the side door bolted open as an abortion clinic attendee opened a side door. Dressed in medical scrubs, she called a strange sounding name.

The red head jerked as if suddenly awakened from a deep slumber. With obvious effort, she stood up and followed the attendant into the long, dark hallway that obviously led to the clinic’s abortion theater.

My heart felt pity for the teen as I saw her shiver before the door closed behind her. If I had been in another place, I may have prayed for her. But this was no place for prayer. This was a place of death.

To occupy time, I thought about her circumstance. Her internal angst was nearly tangible.

Was she aborting to keep her parents from discovering she was no longer a virgin? Were their rules at her school that would have expelled her due to being pregnant and not married? Did she have a man forcing her to abort his baby? Did she want to make another choice?

Then a strange sound broke through the quiet office space. Horrified, I realized it was a woman screaming.

The noise seemed to be quickly muffled. Then it broke through whatever was attempting to contain it and the screams began again. On and off, I could hear that horrible sound.

“Must be the red head,” I thought sadly.

While my heart wanted to free her from whatever was causing her such harm, it wasn’t my place. I couldn’t rescue her. She had made her choice and must suffer accordingly.

To escape the traumatizing sounds, I got up and walked out of the clinic. I then gazed into the parking lot outside which seemed quiet except for movement in one parked car. A young man was sitting in his vehicle, obviously listening to the radio and playing air guitar.

“Must be her boyfriend,” I reasoned with a grimace. “He is no hero. He waited in the car and made her come into the clinic alone! What a jerk!”

The younger man’s appearance was clearly not as wholesome as the red head. As I was watching him, a look of panic materialized on his face. His next expression bore the likelihood of an internal argument.

I was quite shocked when he got out of the car and walked ten feet toward the clinic. His intent gaze appeared as if he was considering rescuing his damsel in distress.

Then he stopped and threw his hands in the air. His mouth was moving so I assumed he was talking to himself. When he turned around and headed back to the sanctuary of his vehicle, I knew he had talked himself out of liberating her.

He had changed his mind, I realized. He was no knight in shining armor.

When sufficient time had passed, I walked back into the clinic’s waiting room and sat down again. When the door eventually opened, the red head was the first to emerge.

Our eyes met and then our identities merged.

I suddenly realized this red-headed teenage stranger was actually me.

For eleven years I worked to assimilate myself into the personality of the teen who took the life of her own child that day. I was fearful of her possible return to do more damage to my life. So I kept her well hidden in my heart.

One day, God’s love broke through the steel door that enclosed my heart. He sent a message of hope from a new boss – Dr. James Dobson. Dr. Dobson said, “I know I’m talking to many women who have experienced abortion.”

It was shocking that someone was addressing me personally as a post-abortive person. I quieted down and listened closely to the next part of his comments, hoping he wasn’t about to condemn me.

“There is no sin that God cannot forgive,” Dr. Dobson continued. “The problem maybe you don’t forgive yourself. You may need help. We are here to help!”

His point struck deep within my heart. How could I ever forgive that red haired stranger that had walked into that abortion clinic and allowed a precious child to die?

Soon God would lead me into an abortion recovery program. During that amazing period, a team from the local pregnancy center helped me acknowledge, understand and forgive the former version of myself in that clinic. This difficult healing step brought great peace and ended many of my anxiety issues.

Philippians 4:6-7 then was fulfilled in my life – Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

If you have chosen abortion, God can help you forgive the stranger inside of you that made that choice. Our online abortion recovery program can help you begin to address a past abortion with God’s help. Our team is ready to help!

If you know a woman who visited an abortion clinic, realize they aren’t a stranger. Help them to understand that God’s love, grace and mercy are available to help them find peace.  Offer them the same healing message that Dr. Dobson offered my tender heart.

God’s healing is just a prayer away!

 

Abortion Recovery Blog Sydna Masse

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