Candy Gibbs

Continued from My Story | Darkness

MyStoryIntoTheLight

Emotions are funny little things. You can’t choose to feel the good feelings and not the bad. It’s all or nothing, on or off. At this point, I was in such emotional pain and turmoil that I just shut down my emotions altogether–felt better that way. My parents nearly divorced, as it sent our family into a tailspin. My poor younger sister was left to her own devices, because I had sucked all the life out of our home.

About two years later, I was desperate, maybe not suicidal, but certainly ambivalent to life or death. Out of hopelessness, I attended a Bible study for women who had experienced an abortion. During this study, I began to breathe again. I cried a lot too, but I remember the first few times I was able to actually breathe in—not just oxygen, but the truth of all the choices I had made. I was finally able to breathe in the gravity of my sin. It was painful.  Oh, was it. But these were the first laborious steps toward freedom. Freedom from the darkness. Freedom for the reality of knowing what, when left to myself, I was capable of…even taking the life of my own child.

The first steps out of the darkness took my eyes some time to adjust, but I could feel the warmth of the Light, and I could see hope in the distance. There He was. He didn’t run from me and He wasn’t overwhelmed by my disgusting, dark sin. He offered to wash me and make me new. I had to hold up to Him my filthy, broken heart, but He is gentle and kind and powerful. He made it better. He heals all things. (1 Peter 2:24) I have a keen understanding of what my Savior saved me from and a lifetime of worship, love, and adoration could not even begin to express my gratitude.

Abortion isn’t unforgivable; it’s just irreversible. God doesn’t change the ending. He allows us to choose, yet He has this way of reworking the story to turn what the enemy intended for our defeat into a beautiful, hope-filled story that points others to Him.

My daughter, Jessica Renée, was aborted in April of 1992. I never took her to kindergarten or taught her to tie her shoes or to count. I never watched her learn how to ride a bike or clean up the skinned knee she earned in the process. Never helped her with her math homework or sat up late with her when she didn’t feel well or was afraid of the dark. I didn’t get to see her walk out of the DMV waving a driver’s license or cry as she walked across the stage at her high school graduation. I will never help her choose a wedding dress nor watch with thankfulness as she becomes someone’s wife.

In that sense, for me, it is too late. But the beautiful redemptive nature of the Lord says that there are girls every day facing the exact same decision and our work, our stories, our ideas, and our words can impact them. He says it’s not too late for them. It is my prayer that there will be many young women, men, families, and children saved from this horrible pain, from this horrible decision that is life-ending for a child and life-changing for everyone else involved.

To be continued…

My love,

Candy-Sig-300x225

 

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