The words slipped from her lips–tender and free of accusation. “In a group this size, I’m sure there are women who have experienced the pain of abortion. Lord, let those women know you love them.”
Sobbing erupted near the front of the auditorium and I scanned the rows of chairs until my eyes lit upon a woman with long, dark hair in the first row. Her shoulders shaking, she beckoned to the speaker. Grabbing hold of the microphone, the weeping woman stunned us with her confession. “When I was a young girl, my dad did things to me and I got pregnant.” Her body wracked by sobs, she continued. “I’ve never told anyone, but he aborted the baby.”
Burying her face in her hands, the weeping woman’s anguish spilled from her raw and vulnerable–shoulders shaking as violently as the ground during an earthquake.
Within seconds, men and women poured from the corners of the auditorium to comfort this dear one whose life had been spent silently bearing the weight of a secret too burdensome for one woman to carry alone.
Surrounding God’s daughter and with heads bent in prayer, we cried and mourned for this brave woman. And, we cared for her the way Christians are meant to do–sharing mercy…offering hope…living out Jesus’ love.
Images of the weeping woman continue to intrude in my thoughts and I wonder how many of us are holding to hurts that grow heavier day by day…year by year. My albatross? Your millstone? They may not be as burdensome as that of the weeping woman, but whatever we’re carrying it’s time to release those joy-stealers to the God who can heal all of the aching places in our hearts.
Give that wound…that memory…that hurt to Truth, friend. Jesus is the healing balm for all heartache and He promises to set us free. (John 8:32)
Leave a comment or message me on Facebook at Tammy L Kennington if you’d like someone to join you in your journey to freedom.
Blessings, Tammy
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