Skip to main content

A Must Read

The media's narrative on abortion always focuses the story on the poor mother who tragically is saddled with an unwanted pregnancy.  This story deals with the heartbreak from a different perspective - the heartbreak of the rejected child.

Abortion’s Unintended Survivors

 


The abortion debate draws on several points of view. Expectant mothers, expectant fathers, people 411YEQK2guL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_of faith, members of the medical and legal communities, and the protesters and the supporters all chime in. They can all arguably testify as victims of abortion—women, men, and society at large—but we rarely have the opportunity to hear from the eye witnesses in the womb.
It’s not their fault. Abortion’s purpose is to dismantle and destroy their lives along with their testimonies. But what of children born alive as an unintended result of botched abortions? They exist, as one woman’s story reveals to us. Surely abortion survivors have something to say on the matter.
Melissa Ohden survived a saline abortion at St. Luke’s Regional Medical Center in Sioux City, Iowa in 1977. The unsuccessful abortion and a compassionate nurse are what saved Ohden’s precious little life.
“Many people think abortion is a discrete act that has no lasting effect. They are so wrong!” wrote Ohden in her autobiographical book You Carried Me: A Daughter’s Memoir. “Abortion can’t be compartmentalized and is never forgotten. And its effects ripple through generations.”
In her own words, Ohden brings a formidable testimony against abortion as she outlines the hurt and inner pain she dealt with as a teenager trying to cope with the knowledge she was so unwanted by her biological family, they attempted to end her life. She believes now that she developed post-traumatic stress reaction to the revelation of her beginnings as well as survivor’s guilt that she lived and so many others were destroyed by abortion. Her depression developed into anorexia, bulimia, alcohol abuse, and sexual promiscuity.
Thankfully, Ohden’s dependence on the Almighty helped to heal her despair. Though she sought answers in a painfully long search for her biological parents, Ohden found answers in her faith. “For years I had been trying to go back to the beginning to discover my true identity,” she wrote. “[But] my true identity didn’t come from my birth parents, but from my Creator. I was a child of God and that mean I was never—not even for a second—unwanted.”
Right now the Born-Alive Abortion Survivors Protection Act (H.R. 37) is making its way through Congress. If passed into law, the proposed legislation will protect the rights of children like Ohden born alive as an unintended result of unsuccessful abortions. According to the bill, “If an abortion results in the live birth of an infant, the infant is a legal person for all purposes under the laws of the United States and entitled to all the protections of such laws.”
Listen to Ohden’s story before you make your judgements about this legislation and the consequences of abortion. As she describes it, her only mission is “to personify the humanity of the aborted ‘fetus’” and “show that the fetus is actually a baby.”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Families' Fridays

Starting a Family Devotion Time by Michael Kelley I haven’t always been a family devotion guy. It’s not because I didn’t want or aspire to be, I honestly did. But we went a long time as a family before pulling the trigger and trying to integrate this practice into the regular rhythm of our family life.  We’ve been doing morning devotions together for about five years now – long enough to where our kids expect that we will. It’s a long road, as are most things with young children I’m finding out. Though revival doesn’t break out every morning over eggs and toast, our continued hope and prayer is that times like these build into the love and discipline our children will have in the future when it comes to God’s Word.  Through those five years, we’ve tried different things, failed at a bunch, and have learned some things along the way. So, as encouragement to those of you just starting out or maybe some affirmation for those of you already in ...

Why is no one trying to be like John the Baptist?

This Sunday morning the sermon was taken from John 3:22-36.  In that passage, two of the disciples of John come to him with the report that Jesus was now baptizing more people than John.  John's response is one of the most humble in all of Scripture.  It was in reading that response that a thought occurred to me.  With all the leadership and ministry books out there, why do we not have people picking up on the ministry style of John the Baptist?  Maybe I am a little cynical, but I guy who gets his head chopped off might be a bit of a tough sell in our success-driven marketplace.  Can you imagine the title?  "Five Easy Steps to Losing Your Head." I can't imagine that book making it on the Christian bestsellers list. Yet John the Baptist is a great example to those of us in ministry.  His clarity about his own place and role in the ministry are worthy of emulation.  Here are some of the observations I made as I looked at his response to ...

Oops!

I can be a real klutz.  I have very few manual skills and I never grew out of the "tripping over my own feet" stage of life.  I have fumbled and dropped more than my fair share of balls. In other words, "oops" has been a regular part of my vocabulary. It is not only in the physical world that I have fumbled things.  I have messed up relationships.  I have prejudged people before ever getting to know them.  I have used and abused those who love me most in this world.  I have failed and sinned my way into more than one tight corner and created untold disasters.  Oops is not even sufficient for the ways that I have blown it. Perhaps that is why something Paul, our worship leader last Sunday, said resonated so deeply with me this week.  He said "Oops is never said in heaven."  Our God never is clumsy.  He never makes mistakes. His plans never go belly-up.  He never fails.  He never ever has to say oops - and that comforts me.