Reclaiming Our Children: A Blog About Healing After Abortion

Sorry I have not been around much lately. Things have been super busy.

The talk at Albertus high school was great and from what I hear help is already being sought by someone post abortive. The Ball for life was awesome with inquiries about retreats since then. I was also happy to finally meet Kathryn Lopez, and Saturdays men's day was totally awesome !

Away at meeting Thursday and Friday so blogging may be light again this week, but here is a testimony from one of our older newsletters.

The Truth Will Set You Free

C. S. Lewis said, “If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth, only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair.”

 We live in very pluralistic times and with that come many contradictions within our society.  

 I have heard many heartbreaking testimonies from women who have had abortions.  Almost always, they refer to the guy in their life that played a role in their decision.  And often, it was a forceful role.

 I’m writing this because I was the guy. 

 Years ago, after a tour in the U.S. Army’s 82 Airborne Division, I was heading off to college.  This was the beginning of yet another new chapter in my life.  For the first time, the restrictions of a firm military lifestyle (my father careered the Navy) would not be a factor in how I would choose, or, be allowed, to live.  The shackles of being obedient within the strict adherence to other’s rules had been tossed off and I was, so I thought, free.  If no one is getting hurt (so we think) and if it feels good, do it.  And I did, often.  However, freedom is not being able to do whatever one wants. Freedom comes with responsibilities and repercussions. 

 Of course, I got a girl pregnant.  No problem, this was just a speed bump.  My future remained clear.  You see, one of us was in love and it wasn’t me.  I was the guy.

 I bought into multitude of lies that my government and law-makers had deemed best for me and our society encouraged.  All I had to do was write an inexpensive check and my “problem” would easily go away.

 I used all the common excuses to not live up to my responsibility; I was in college, too young, no money, in no way ready to be a father, and of course, I knew that the girl and I had no future together.  Besides, it was only a “blob of tissue.”   That was the biggest lie, and the closer on how I was able to come to a decision and in turn, distance myself from the actual act that was going to take place. 

 Being the guy gave me the added advantage to distance myself even farther.  I was not the one that would have to go through the process.  I simply had to drive her to the clinic check in hand and pick her up afterward.

 And that’s what I did.  She never talked about it afterwards and neither did I.  Never a word.  Because of the silence, I suffered from wounds I was not aware of, but my lifestyle and attitude screamed of them.  

 It wasn’t until over twenty years later when I came back to my faith and was married that I truly realized what I had done.  I asked God for forgiveness.  The first thing he taught me was to forgive myself.  This did come immediately but instead over time and in layers.  Looking back, I wish there were the organizations (or at least I had been aware of them) that are available for men today.  Nonetheless, I reached out to God and found His hand extended toward me in grace.  

 A few years ago my wife and I were told by doctors that we would not be able to have our own children. That’s when the contrast of our society became so obvious and personal to me.  Here my wife and I were on our knees praying for a child while America is aborting more than 4,000 babies a day.  Based on what?  Simply whether the baby is wanted or not wanted.  Life had become so devalued that this is now how we determine who should live or die.  Exactly what I had done.  It all came crashing back down on me.  The guilt that I had contributed to that number.  But more than just a number, I murdered a child, my child.  The most innocent of the innocent.  No semantics, no excuses, no lies, can defend or describe it as anything other than that. 

 Now what?  Was I being punished for not protecting my first child?  I was not responsible then, how could I possibly be found responsible now?  As a man we are called to be the protectors, especially of the young and helpless.  But, I ran.  I was the guy that ran from that responsibility. 

 Now, I found myself running again, but this time, again back to God and as always, He was there, his arms reaching out to comfort.  We serve a loving, compassionate, and forgiving Father.  I was not being punished and I have been forgiven. But again, I had to learn to forgive myself.  And, the layers of forgiveness continue to come.  My wife so willingly has forgiven me and… my child has forgiven me.  I truly believe that.  I shared this with a friend not long ago and his response was, “Not only has your child forgiven you, but she is up there interceding on your behalf.”  The healing continues.   

 By the way, God’s word does not return void and He proved the doctors wrong.  We have been blessed with two beautiful children, Olivia and Benjamin.  And, I have a third that I know I will see again.

 I will always be that guy.  But I am also a man that no longer believes the lies and is fighting to share the truth.  I regret my lost fatherhood and I will be silent no more.

Jonathan Flora

Writer/Director

"A Distant Thunder"

For more info go to www.adistantthunder.com