posted on our message board 12-13-08
For almost 18 years I have hidden the truth from myself. I allowed others to tell me what was wrong with me. If you knew my childhood you would probably agree that addiction, pain, grief and general chaos would just be the norm for me. It would be valid. All that was a lie the enemy had sold me and others. You see though I was homeless and raised by some very dysfunctional people; it wasn’t the core of my hurt. I spent years upon years running. Praise be to God that they are fewer years then some.
What was really haunting me was the intentional death of my son. I had engaged in pre-marital sex and became pregnant at the young age of 20. The father had been a sweet boy turned angry and threatening to me and my life. He had learned these traits from his own family. When I found out I was pregnant raising a child wasn’t an option, or at least that is what I thought. If I had been really deep down honest with myself, the thought of giving birth terrified me. It was all I could think of. How am I going to deliver a child? What will happen to my body? Will I live? Doesn’t it hurt?????? Of course I never shared these thoughts with anyone but the Doctor who told me I was pregnant. She just giggled and said “Honey everyone is scared of being a parent” when I corrected her and informed her I was physically scared of being pregnant, she had no response. At least none that I can remember.
The “procedure” aka known as the killing of my baby was done and it was time to move on. No one talked about it no one cared. Not even me. Because of the violence between me and the baby’s father, I finally found the strength to leave him. I no longer cared if I had to be homeless again, I was out. No one was ever going to tell me what to do again! And no one ever did until I met the Lord.
I would spend the next decade suffering and struggling. I became anorexic and would over work myself. The new thing that would attack after I was “cured” from my eating disorder would be drugs. The one thing I had been terrified of while anorexic. So much so that there were days that I didn’t want to brush my teeth for fear someone had laced my toothpaste with drugs! The saddest part of this decade of my life is I didn’t know the Lord. I had a sense that there was a god, but I had no clue about the one true living GOD….
I married a nice man that was wrong for me. He was submissive and I now was a dominant femi-nazi, I am woman hear me roar type. He mostly complied. We had a great time but we were not a good marital match. Great friend match though. Day in and day out I would let my anger rule me. I still had my nutty family around me so anyone would be angry if they were in my shoes! Right? I pushed and was pushed. I screamed, kicked, yelled. I kept myself busy and controlled my life, quite well thank you! Or so I thought.
One day some great people moved by the Lord were obedient and witnessed to me gently and relentlessly. God had found me and I finally recognized it. It would be years of drug and alcohol abuse, years of counseling, years of fighting before God showed me that it wasn’t my childhood that had caused me to be a bitter jaded woman. It was being forced and agreeing to killing my son that did it. How could that be? I walked into that building and I signed the papers to allow them to take him from my body? How then could that cause me to want to die? I had been to rehab; I had been to Christian counselors. No one had ever impressed on my soul what the Lord had about the death of my son. Mainly because, I had never shared it. I had thought it was a non-issue. Boy was I wrong.
About 9 years into my salvation I was struggling with anger like never before. I prayed and prayed and had prayed for years for this to be removed. I actually saw changes within my household. My words weren’t as harsh toward others. My attitude became gentler. God was answering my prayers. Then I started to think about how I have no children of my own. How I killed the only pregnancy I had. How awful I was, how could God forgive that? I mean that’s Murder! I had gotten myself into quite a funk about the whole thing. But like usual kept it to myself. No one wanted to hear about me choosing to kill my child; after all I was getting what I deserved, right?
When I am at work I listen to talk Radio quite a bit. Mainly Christian talk. On this particular day I had been tired of listening to chatter so I turned it to a Christian music station. There was a commercial on and it was ending but what caught my ears was “Post abortion healing Class”. I wasn’t sure at the time why I grabbed my pen and started to write down the number given but I did. When I went into the office I looked up the radio station and found the information online. Seems there was this woman who spoke at seminars about Post abortion grief and how to help.
I wasn’t sure this class was for me so after doing some more research on the speaker I found her email and wrote her. I told her briefly about me and what I had done. I knew in my heart that I must have been the worst person she had ever received and email from, I just knew it! She emailed me back and assured me that this seminar would be perfect for me to attend. I was terrified but something inside me was saying “GO”… I knew this just had to be God telling me. I mean what were the coincidences of me feeling bad about my abortion then hearing something like that by mistake? Inside I was really scared and thought I was being stupid. You know just looking for another thing to be miserable about. I had an abortion. I was forced into it, it was 18 years ago and done. What’s the problem? Others told me I needed to do this; he would have had a miserable life anyhow, right?
The seminar was held about 2 hours away from my home. It was at 9am on a Saturday. Being I am NOT a morning person I decided that if God wanted me to go he would wake me up! That always works; I get to sleep in with no regret. Not this time. God did wake me up and I found myself with my Tom-Tom in hand on my way to a “Post abortion” seminar! When I arrived I was so nervous. Everyone was going to look at me and KNOW why I was there. I had aborted my child. It never really occurred to me that those looking at me were in the same boat as me.
The first 2 hours were horrifying to me. I would rather have been at the dentist having teeth pulled then sitting there. I kept looking at the doors thinking “I could leave no one would know”. But I stayed. As Sharon talked about how important it is for women to memorialize their babies I felt like I really had walked into the wrong place. I mean how ridiculous to name your child and have a memorial service for them! That was sick, twisted and just weird. It was at that very moment I heard loudly in my head “Joshua”. I ignored it. Again “Joshua”. I thought to myself “OK even if that were the name for my child I would have NEVER named my child that not now and not then”. It was soon after that Sharon said “In many cases women feel as if God has named their children.” I shook that thought off and thought these people were nuts!
Sharon had brought women and men who had suffered because of having had an abortion. Their stories killed me. I cried and cried. I cried more then I had in a while. Before I knew it 7 hours had passed and it was time to go. Before I left Sharon informed me that she was holding a new PACE group starting sometime in September if I was interested. We found out that we lived really close to one another and that I could actually attend easily. So besides me thinking it was all insane, I said “Yea sure”. I bought a book from her that she recommended I read before group started and I left.
Of course there had been a lot more emotions felt and shared that day. I had realized that I had never forgiven myself for doing what I had done. I believed in my heart that the Lord had forgiven me, but me forgive me? Absolutely not! I am getting what I deserved! As I was making my 2 hour drive home the name Joshua continued to haunt me. I shook it off each time telling myself “that’s ridiculous!” I arrived home and shared a bit of what I experienced and went on to have several glasses of Jack Daniels and Coke. After going through that I deserved it! The next day I opened the book I had bought. Started to read then found myself terrified of the words that popped out on the page. There was no way I could read this. It was too close to home, too sad. Why put myself through that? So I wrote Sharon and told her. She wrote me back and explained it was normal and to read it at my own pace. I suppose she just didn’t understand what I had been trying to tell her. But she was right. About a week later I picked it up again. I cried in anguish. The book was about a woman who had aborted her child and what she went through. All the stages of grief all the anger it had caused. All the things that had been happening to me, even the anorexia. It was then that I realized that this just couldn’t be a coincidence. God wanted me to do this so I kept pressing on.
After reading that book I started to think I may need to memorialize or at least acknowledge my son. Yes my son. I had always known the entire past 18 years that I had lost a son. May God forgive me if I am wrong? But I knew when I conceived and I definitely knew that I was supposed to have a son…. A son that I was still grieving! The son I still looked for but was nowhere to be found. That name haunted me day and night. I started to have nightmares and dreams. I rarely have dreams that I can remember. But I was having them now. One night the name was so loud in my head “JOSHUA”. I finally gave in, said “alright God you named my child Joshua, don’t know why but thank you for not leaving him nameless”. So Joshua it was. I had a son with a name to claim.
All this was even before I started the PACE group. This surprised Sharon somewhat. She kept telling me I was ahead of myself. But you know when God moves you just simply can’t stand in his way! I was looking online and found a memorial site. It was one I had recently visited due to the loss of a friend and co-worker in a plane accident. I bought a cross dog tag set for my son. I wear it to this day. It reads “Joshua you are loved 1990”. You see the spring of 1990 is when he was killed. I found that there was a memorial place in Tennessee that memorializes the unborn due to abortion or miscarriage. Soon after I decided to send a donation and have Joshua memorialized there. I had them write “Joshua Paul, waiting to be reunited, Mommy.” Just reading the word Mommy made me cry and still brings tears to my eyes. I am Joshua’s Mommy and he too is awaiting my arrival in the kingdom of our Fathers. When I explained these thoughts to a friend of mine online she asked me “do you know what Joshua means?” I replied “Nope.” She said “Jehovah or God saves.” I cried... it was the confirmation I had been looking for. God really had named my child.
September came and so did the beginning of a brand new journey. The first few classes were extremely hard for me. I didn’t really want to talk about all this. We had already lost one lady from the group. The one I KNEW the first night would leave and I had prayed she wouldn’t. She was like me, childless and had aborted a child. We spent one full day telling our stories, the next day I slept and slept. I was emotionally drained. There have been many times when I have told others about my chaotic past. Many times they have that “look”. The look of horror or something, not sure what it is. But this time, the looks were empathy. This time I was at home.
I still didn’t want to go and every Wednesday that came around I dreaded and tried to find a way out of going. It was getting really hard emotionally and all I wanted to do was shut down. This was the most intense bible study I have ever been a part of. In fact one week I was sick the next I decided not to go. I didn’t need this crap. Why keep bringing up the past and crying? How was that healthy? The next day I received and email saying “since no one came to last night’s meeting, not even Sharon, it was being postponed till the next wed”. I thought to myself “dang it, this must be God I can’t even quit!!” You see in the past I quit things when it gets emotionally draining. I went but I wasn’t going to talk. I no longer had anything to say. I was miserable, mad, sad, and just plain old upset. When I showed up everyone knew I was not in the mood and I suspect the other women weren’t either. We had just dealt with our anger towards everything that had to do with the abortion, and then had to go to forgiving all those same people.
We wrote letters upon letters and now we were getting to the point of writing to God and our children. I had had enough!
I left and started my homework the next day. Still miserable, but plugging along. Then one day it snapped. My brain woke up! God is all forgiving! I actually got it. It’s hard to express in words, but I saw myself how God sees me. Even if just a glimpse, but my soul was filled with a joy I have NEVER felt before. I couldn’t wait to go to the next meeting I was so giddy and excited! I couldn’t sit still and couldn’t wait to share. I had been forgiven once and for all. I no longer needed to beat myself up nor think I was being rightfully punished. God loves me so much that He kept my son and named him for me. The next few classes went really well. One night after group, I had problems sleeping. So I wrote a poem to Joshua, I wrote some in my book … then I decided to watch some YouTube videos of people signing worship music. I have always been drawn to sign and wanted to be an interpreter for the longest time. I took a few classes but never finished. While watching songs the same voice that had told me Joshua, told me “he was deaf.” I thought that was REALLY odd. I had been wondering that night in group if anyone had seen their child disabled; I mean not all the babies were going to be born “perfect” right? So I thought “hmmm, maybe that’s why I have been drawn to sign or maybe I put that thought in my head.” The next night in church I was waiting for Thanksgiving services to start so I opened my book randomly to Psalms. I read one chapter, and then prayed “O Lord if you can and are willing please send me some kind of confirmation about Joshua being born deaf. I just think I am losing my mind, please o lord”. The next passage was “O Lord do not turn a deaf ear”. I felt a warmth and smile build. I knew then, I still do not know why, but I am going to start College classes next month for sign.
I shared this with Sharon and she told me I wasn’t nuts, that when you seek out answers from the Lord he will share with you. Since I am seeking to know all I can about Joshua the Lord is giving me what she calls “Pearls.” The last class came and we discussed the memorial we were going to be having for our children in a few short days. In a weird way I felt excited and happy about it. I had been studying how to sign “I can only imagine” by Mercy Me. In case I wanted to do that at his memorial for him. December 8, 2008 would be the day. I will always remember that day and remember him on that day too. It was beautiful. Two pastors performed the ceremony and we talked about our children or how we found them. Yes there were lots of tears. One of the Pastors feels names are important and he gets our names from the group leader and our baby’s names. He researches their meanings and prays over them. Then lets us know what if anything he has learned from the Lord on the matter. For me he knew that Cassandra means “Helper of men” and Joshua “Jehovah saves”, what I didn’t know was his middle name “Paul” means “little” (funny cause my brother has that name and is 6ft 5). He told me that he got the sense that Joshua was a little ball of fire. That he loved to run. He would run to do everything. He was fast hyper and didn’t seem to need sleep (he is in heaven after all). He said he got the sense that he was Gods messenger that if God had something to share, he could tell Joshua and it would be spread fast. A bold little boy! What was really funny is all the ladies in the group leaned over and stared at me. The Pastor that I had never seen before in my life just described me to a T!
He said he also saw something about me. That God was blessing me and going to use me for evangelism. A witness for whatever ministry it is He is setting me up for. What is odd about this is this is the third time in a year I have heard this. He said other things and I will receive a copy of that soon. I don’t know how much I believe in all that but we shall see I suppose.
Since that day, just 3 days ago, I have been at such peace. And I did sign the song for Joshua.
I wanted to share this journey. This amazing journey. God has taught me if your obedient, have your ears open, and are willing, He will heal you!
I know I have many more journeys ahead of me. Trials, triumphs. But now I know that God is there working with me in all things. Just the overwhelming sense of relief is amazing. I now do not cry for myself. My pity, my shame and regret, but I cry because I can’t wait to hold my little fireball…his tiny little head in my hands. That is if he sits still long enough!
- Cassandra,