Monday, January 26, 2015

4,000 Crosses

Being an active participant in the pro-life movement and involved in post-abortion healing, I attend many events throughout the year, but nothing prepared me for what I experienced this past weekend.

I was a little sad, not attending the West Coast Walk for Life in San Francisco, as I had in previous years, but circumstances preventing me from doing so.  Instead, my husband and I attended another walk, in the small town of Hemet, about an hour away from our home.  The number of people participating was remarkable, and I truly believe God meant me to be there because of what happened at the end of the walk.  In a large field, on the side of a Lutheran church, the walkers raised 4,000 crosses, signifying the number of babies lost from abortion each day. 

I've always been aware of the statistics but hearing the number 4,000 and seeing it, is totally different. The sight overwhelmed me.  Each cross was a future taken away due to a woman falling prey to pro-choice rhetoric ...  it's an easy way out, it's not a baby - just tissue, it's a simple procedure, it's your body - your choice. Abortion clinic staff fail to advise women of physical, psychological or spiritual consequences nor do they discuss other options such as going to a crisis pregnancy center. Why?  They would lose the fee for services. They purport abortion as medical care, but it's not.  It's a business, making millions at the expense of innocent lives.

I understand the fear involved with an unplanned pregnancy, and I too believed the lies and suffered the consequences as all post-abortive women do and will.  My "choice" caused severe psychological and spiritual issues, carrying the grief and regret of rejecting the opportunity to carry my children to term and be their mother, as God intended. I also denied a man the opportunity to be a father, my parents to be grandparents, my son to be a brother and my sister to be an aunt. 

My eyes filled with tears, and my heart broke seeing those crosses, especially when my husband and I raised two of them in memory of my little ones.  I know God wanted me to be in Hemet, to show me what we in the pro-life movement are working towards ... the day when there will be no more crosses in that field.
Raising a cross for my angels.

Sunday, January 25, 2015


Last year I was a lean, mean (well, maybe not "lean") writing machine.  I worked on several projects at one time and pulled many all-nighters, resulting in several works published with positive reviews.  Great, huh?  Well ...

For some reason, with two current works in progress and four in the wings, the past month and a half found me dragging my feet (or fingers). I used every distraction available to avoid writing.  It had become a chore, and that petrified me.  Not only did I lose my enthusiasm for writing, but for everything else as well. I was going through the motions ...  my heart wasn't along for the ride. Was I going crazy?  Having a breakdown?

Nah, that wasn't it at all.  My mind and body (subtle hints from God) were telling me to rest.  Although pleased with what I had accomplished, the pace was not healthy. I was burning an odd-shaped candle at multiple ends ... with family responsibilities, ministries, marketing, social media, and writing sporadically throughout the day then well into the wee hours of the morning.  I became mentally and physically exhausted, thus causing me to flat-out shut down.  I also ended up with a virus that hung around for almost four weeks because of a weakened immune system.

The crisis is over, thank God.  The experience taught me the importance of pacing myself in all aspects of my life, setting reasonable expectations as well as taking time to just kick back without feeling guilty.