Reflecting on God's amazing grace (Part One)

Hardly a June goes by that I don't reflect on what might have been/could have been in June, 1981. With a heart bursting with gratitude for God's grace and mercy, I offer the tribute below to a child that would have been 27 years old this month.

It is my prayer that this poem will offer a balm of healing to others who struggle to reconcile this sin in their past...or perhaps, even introduce them to the One whose grace is sufficient. On a larger scale, I pray that it will fall into the hands of those who find themselves sitting on the fence, undecided, and faced with a choice...just in the nick of time.

My Child, Do You Remember Me?

My child, do you remember me?
We met so long ago.
You were formed inside my womb,
yet never allowed to grow.

I never got to see your face,
or hold you in my arms.
I pray someday you’ll understand--
I never meant you harm.

I missed playing peek-a-boo
and going to the park.
I missed holding you in my lap
when you were afraid of the dark.

I missed your pretty pictures
of rainbows in the sky.
I missed the cards on Mother’s Day-
the kind that make you cry.

I missed you learning to ride a bike
and your first dive into the pool.
I missed your every summertime
and your every first day of school.

I missed your every birthday
and watching you grow each year.
I missed saying “I love you”
and showing how much I care.

My child, will you forgive me
for the life I stole from you?
Will you know the tears I’ve shed
for that child I never knew?

I know you’re in a better place,
and someday, I’ll meet you there.
For Jesus has forgiven me,
my sin, I no longer bear.

My child, will you remember me
on that day we meet again?
Will you even know my face
or wonder where I’ve been?

“Yes Mother, I remember you;
we met so long ago.
Why I could not stay with you,
I really do not know.”

“Come with me and meet the Lord,”
my child will smile and say.
“I’ll take your hand and lead you there,
for He’ll wash your tears away.”

Finally, I’ll approach His throne,
my sins as white as snow,
and He’ll hold me tight and say to me,
“My child, welcome home.”

Vicki Courtney ©1995

I became a Christian in 1985, but for a decade, I continued to carry a burden of guilt and shame over an abortion I had in 1981 at the age of 17 (at the time, I was staunchly pro-choice). I wrote the poem above at the prompting of a counselor/friend who suggested that I write a letter to my unborn child as a necessary step in my journey of healing. I resisted for several months until one morning when God compelled me to pick up a pen and write the poem above.

Many women sit in our church pews on Sunday mornings riddled with guilt and shame over this "secret sin." I know, because I used to be one of them. I know what it feels like to wonder what your church friends would think if "they knew." I know what it feels like to hear someone casually say in passing, "How could anyone ever do that? Don't they know it's murder?" I know what if feels like to cross paths with believers (though few) who express hatred not just for the sin, but the sinner as well. And I know what if feels like to do the math each year and wonder what my child would be like today.

But most importantly, I know what it feels like to be forgiven by a loving God. And when I hear the song in the post below, I sing with a confident assurance and a heart that overflows with gratitude, "My chains are gone; I've been set free. My God, my Savior has ransomed me; And like a flood His mercy reigns; Unending love, Amazing grace." And I pray that you too, regardless of what can be found on your sin list, can sing with the same confident assurance.