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 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.|