Love Is . . .

Chapter 31

         It started in a small home Bible study group that I attended with Claire. Over the months that we all met together, we had grown really close. Everyone had different ages and backgrounds, but all of us were connected by our desire to know God deeper. Here, in this intimate setting, there was no room for the superficial. We really got to know each other, our strengths, weaknesses, and insecurities. It became a safe place to voice our fears, ask for advice, or just a shoulder to cry on.

        One night, a regular to the group, brought a friend. It was someone we all had been praying for, unbeknownst to her. We only knew that she had been living life recklessly, making choices that had her friend very concerned for her. Like so many of us in the group, her quest to find the next best thing, what made her feel good for the moment, was just that, fleeting. Tired of dealing with the emptiness that inevitably crept back in, she decided to try out this Jesus thing that her friend kept raving about. 

        We welcomed her with open arms. And as only God can do, the lesson that night was ironically about forgiveness of sins, and the rewarding life of living for Christ which isn't just following a bunch of rules, or giving up the fun and pleasurable. It's more about how God's decrees bring a pure and lasting happiness without the quilt or consequences of sin. Not that there wouldn't be hard times being a Christian, or that you suddenly become perfect, but knowing that God can turn all things into good for those that love him gives a hope that, otherwise, wouldn't be there.

          At the end of that workbook chapter, our guest, Jessica, was in tears. Broken of heart, she confessed that she had just found out that she was pregnant and not sure who the father was. And out of the possibilities of who it could be, she was considering that it might be best just to have an abortion versus facing the embarrassment. Her appointment was just in a few days. Claire looked at me with an urging in her eyes. I knew what she was asking for I had already felt God tugging on my heart to share my story. With courage that only could come from God, I began to speak.

       By the time the meeting was over, we all were in tears. Not of sorrow, but of joy as Jessica admitted that she was tired of living the way she had been and wanted the salvation God was offering. She was saved that very night and, therefore, so was her unborn child. I had gained another friend. We exchanged numbers and planned to meet at least once a week outside of the Bible study. I was determined to see her through, and be the support she needed just as Ms. Mae was for me. A passion was born in me, and I knew what I needed to do. I became involved in Pro-Life and Rape Victim activist groups. And little by little, I began to tell my story to anyone who would listen.

      First, it was in small settings, but eventually over the years, I became a headline speaker at some major conferences. I always included my faith in my speeches. It was my belief that if one person in the crowd of hundreds was turned toward God, it was worth it. This became my purpose, and I loved it. On occasion, it meant I had to fly or drive to other states which was hard, because I would have to leave Natalie with Ms. Mae. She was now six years old and in school. I deemed it best for her not to travel. I wanted her to have consistency and normal childhood school experiences that I didn't growing up. 

     Thankfully, I had Claire who became my travel buddy and assistant when necessary. It was on one such trip that the unexpected happened. Claire and I were two of the last to leave the conference center, and we were still floating on the high of a successful night. It was cold outside, and our breath made puffs of smoke as we chatted excitedly exiting from the building. Not really paying attention to my surroundings, I was surprised to hear my name called from somewhere behind me. I turn expecting to encounter just another well-wisher, but in a moment that can only be described as surreal, I am face to face with my past.