Sometimes in life we face moments that change us. They don’t just change the way we think or the way we respond, they actually change us.
I’ve only had a few of these moments in my adult life. I had one so significant this week it has drawn me out out my blogging sabbatical.
I actually tried to avoid writing this. I sat on my couch with coffee and a laptop fully intending on mindlessly scrolling Facebook, but I couldn’t. I really just could not.
Who am I?
I am a wife, a mother and a shop owner. I am coffee drinking, church-going Christian. But who am I really, in the Kingdom of God? In the eyes of my Maker? At ground zero, who am I?
I am a minster. I am a women’s minister. God has purposed me to live, teach and speak his truth in a uniquely feminine way. Usually I think I am half-way decent at it. But what if I have missed something huge? What if I have had a blind-spot so catastrophic that, instead giving a voice to the guilt-ridden I have been part of the movement that silenced them.
What if the Pro-life Movement (in caps) hasn’t really stopped one abortion? What if it is actually getting in the way of the power of God to work change they way HE works change- in the hearts of men.
This week I wept with a woman who aborted a baby a life-time ago. She spit the words out reluctantly but obediently. The Spirit of God is the only one who could draw out such a moment from humanity. It didn’t make sense for her to tell me. Me of all people. I grieve a baby I didn’t want to lose. But the Spirit urged. She listened.
Tonight I know why.
I have been blind to the torment of the truest of the silent sufferers among women.
And I have done nothing. I have said nothing. I have offered nothing.
And I am sorry.
I am so sorry that intellectual arguments and political debates have taken over our pulpits. I am sorry harsh rhetoric has taken precedence over the words of life. I am sorry that propaganda has replaced tender messages from our Savior.
I am sorry you have been shamed by the church that was supposed to bear your burdens with you. I am sorry your confessions have been hushed. I am sorry we haven’t made you feel safe.
Your story is worth telling. Your cries deserve to be comforted. Your tears deserve to be counted.
Tonight I am praying for you and only you.