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Breaking Free from the Culture of Death:
A Woman Speaks out Against the Lie of
Abortion
by
Elizabeth Brown
It would
be easier to remain silent than to relay the
story of my abortion experience and how I
was liberated from the culture of death.
Easier because it is a difficult story to
tell, struggling as I did with the shame
involved with such a “choice” as well as the
fear of what some may think. But my faith in
Christ demands I move beyond these temporal
concerns, with the truth as I have
experienced it, so others can be set free.
It is my hope that in sharing my journey
from rebellion to repentance, anguish to
absolution, and death to the knowledge of
life-giving love that all will be released
from the lie of “abortion without
consequences” and that true healing from the
ravages of this scourge may begin.
Steeped
in Darkness
Fifteen years ago I was a terribly broken
woman without foundation, without true joy
and so very lost. I hardly valued my own
life, much less the life of another, and
darkness surrounded me. For at 24 years of
age I took the life of my child. My
upbringing was rocky soil for holiness but
fertile ground for the culture of death to
grow and flourish.
Of the
many “seeds” that germinated into this
catastrophic decision, the primary one was
the tragic loss of my mother at an early
age, as well as subjection to abuse and lack
of consistent religious training. I am aware
that many people experience these life
events and do not sin in this terrible way.
For me, however, the combination of these
“seeds,” reinforced by my own sinful
choices, led to a deep separation from my
Savior and my vocation as a godly woman.
This disorder, in me and in my
relationships, eventually culminated in the
ultimate disorder: abortion. Unfortunately,
this pattern is all too common in our world
today.
Of course,
at the time, I felt perfectly justified in
my actions. Most people around me didn’t
seem to have a problem with abortion. My
politics supported my position and furthered
my warped wisdom that this was my body and I
had the right, even the responsibility, to
choose abortion. The rationalizations echoed
in my senseless and increasingly darkened
mind: “You’re not married. It’s just tissue.
You aren’t financially secure. Your life
will change forever with a baby. Your Dad
and Stepmother must not know. You won’t be
able to finish your degree. If you have the
abortion early enough it won’t be any big
deal.”
These are
the words I told myself, but honestly, like
an animal caught in a trap, I probably would
have used any excuse to become free
of being pregnant. There was no real love
inside of me, nothing that could offer the
gift of life through adoption, no part that
could attract healthy and helpful friends to
assist and no ability or desire to reach out
to a Savior. After all, I had no sin to be
saved from. I was totally out of it, cut off
from my womanhood and a hater of God,
exchanging truth for a life of lies. Filled
with pain and enslaved to sin, little did I
know that my abortion would change my life
forever.
After
My Abortion
Confusion, persistent thoughts of hell,
depression, and dreadful suicidal
impulses—why was I suddenly and intensely
experiencing these things? Abortion was
supposed to be the perfect solution. “It”
wasn’t a child and God wasn’t a reality. So
what was going on? I went to counseling, but
we never addressed the deep scars that
result from abortion and what happens when a
woman denies her nature as nurturer and
protector of the sacredness of life. I spent
thousands of dollars and even took
medication in an attempt to find love and
wholeness but still wasn’t any closer to
understanding the truth.
Amidst all
this destruction, though, Jesus was still at
work. He was showing me mercy through my
pain, yet it was something to which I was
blind. He was drawing me, closing the escape
routes and slowly tearing down the wall of
my denial. It was that still, small voice
that kept saying, “Why are you afraid of
hell when you don’t believe in me? Why do
you feel anxiety every time someone mentions
abortion or you see pro-life bumper
stickers? Why does every relationship you
enter into seem to go nowhere? What is that
deep sadness you feel that has no name?”
A Clear
Voice
For three years I lived with these torments,
trying to force them into the recesses of my
mind. They emerged with stunning clarity
when I met my husband Peter, a man strongly
rediscovering his Catholic faith. When I
shared my abortion experience his words
pierced my heart, “Liz, abortion is wrong.
You have sinned against God.” No one ever
talked to me this way. Pete did not back
down when I discussed the usual litany of
excuses and mitigating circumstances. All
the emotions I tried tucking away came
tumbling to the forefront. I instinctively
knew I was at a crossroads. I could continue
to walk to the death of my soul, or I could
repent and walk toward life. I chose life.
God meets
us where we are, but He loves us too much to
keep us that way. One year later the crooked
path I traveled was straightened as I began
my journey of healing through Jesus Christ
Our Lord and His Catholic Church. From
experiencing the sacraments I was immersed
into the ocean of His mercy and the fire of
His consuming love. When confessing my sin
of abortion I mustered the courage to look
at my priest. He was crying—not only for the
injustice done to my child but for my pain
as well. Through this servant of God, I saw
Jesus’ true face and received his eternal
forgiveness. In the Eucharist, life was
given more abundantly. More than a sign of
His faithfulness, Christ was offering me
real and lasting participation in His
heavenly banquet. Oh was I ever so humbled
by my Lord’s constant kindness toward me, a
sinner!
Recovery
from abortion and the wounds of the culture
of death is a long process. The tentacles of
evil reach deep. I experienced this reality
struggling with infertility and a
miscarriage. And five years ago, I was
diagnosed with a rare form of ovarian cancer
while on a pilgrimage in Europe. Facing a
dire prognosis, however, was nothing
compared to the renewed despair in my soul
and the sadness of never bearing children as
a reflection of love for my husband. Stark
horror overwhelmed me as I thought about my
“choice” long ago and its relationship to my
present difficulties. Could I be sure the
two weren’t related? No, I could not!
Life-giving Water
It was at this point that I was introduced
to Bethesda Healing Ministry, an unashamedly
Catholic post-abortion apostolate in
Columbus, Ohio. Following the model for
healing and reconciliation as outlined by
Pope John Paul II in Evangelium Vitae,
its mission is to leave the 99 in search of
the one. Assistance is administered through
Masses of Comfort for the loss of pre-born
children, a healing manual, and biweekly
support groups in a community of lay
volunteers, priests, and seminarians. More
than a river in the desert of death and
destruction, this ministry offers living and
life-giving water and it is now being
duplicated in dioceses throughout the United
States.
Both the
sacramental life and the love and support
that I received from Bethesda were the
antidotes for my sick and troubled soul. My
new life demanded that I arise and take
responsibility for my actions; that I
understand the impact of my sinful choices
without falling into despair. This included
examining clearly the toll that abortion is
taking on our world and responding to His
call to be part of the solution. Removing
the scales from my eyes, Jesus freed me to
become His servant for the cause of life.
With God’s
grace I’ve made the transition from being
set free from personal guilt to working to
liberate others from captivity to the
culture of death. This includes comforting
and being a light to those who are suffering
from the abortion experience and training
seminarians how to minister appropriately. I
also speak publicly on the reality of
post-abortion syndrome and the need for the
pro-life movement to recognize post-abortion
healing and reconciliation as a vital
endeavor. As Catholics, we must all be
concerned with liberating others from this
scourge. Everything we do about abortion
must be seen through the prism of
salvation—salvation of all the victims of
the culture of death. Why? Abortion concerns
more than the little one dying the first
death. The parents risk dying the second
death as well.
From the
pulpit to the podium, from the protest to
the personal relationship, it is important
that each and every time abortion is rightly
condemned out of the same breath compassion
and mercy also emanate. This Christian model
of justice, woven together with love and
mercy, fashions into whole cloth our ability
to assist willingly those who have been
affected by this dreadful plague, and for
the affected to respond to our ministering.
This synthesis of fidelity, justice, and
mercy cannot be ignored. It is in this way
that we can combat the culture of death by
which our society is so besieged.
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