Be Bold, Tell Your Story

For years I hesitated to tell how I sat on a doctors table waiting to have an abortion. How I felt like God came in the room and urged me to leave. How it felt as though He said, “Ellen, I promise, if walk out everything would be ok.” How I got dressed and left.

I hesitated because I never wanted a woman who chose abortion to feel like God treated me differently by speaking into my heart and not theirs. 

But that all changed one weekend when I attended a Care Ministry conference where my roommate was a woman I’d never met. That first night, she shared with me how she came to be a volunteer in our churches Abortion Recovery Ministry. She told me how for years she was depressed and could not figure out why. Then after years of medication and therapy, she found herself sitting in the group she now helps facilitate. And as a part of the group therapy, she named her baby and had a memorial service for her. That’s when the healing began that eventually set her free from her depression. 

Hesitantly, I shared my abortion clinic story with her. And her response was, “I heard that voice too, only I ignored it.” 

That’s when I realized there was nothing special about my encounter with God. That He speaks to all of us in those kinds of situations. Only we tend to chalk it up to conscience, or intuition, or a gut feeling. But God is consistent and He loves us all. But we tend to cover our ears and build walls around our hearts to keep out our creator.

A few years ago, I posted a pro-life message on social media. In it, I declared how grateful I am for that gentle voice that told me to leave that clinic.

Only, that message triggered a few of my pro-abortion followers who then attacked me and called me names. How dare I be insensitive to those who have had abortions. 

But I stuck to my story, and the story told to me by my roommate at the conference. I stuck to what I’ve seen and heard from others who regret their abortions. Because too many women have been deeply wounded by the lie that an abortion affect them for the rest of their lives.

I can’t get in the weeds to defend my pro-life views as well as I can just tell my story. And perhaps that’s the best way to share the gospel.

There we were, two strangers in a hotel telling similar stories with two very different outcomes. Both stories showed that regardless of what choice we have made, God continues to nudge us to invite Him into the discussion. And when we do, He not only changes us, but uses our story to reach others.

If you have a story like this, please put, “God nudged me too and it changed my life” in the comments. I will then pray for God to use your story to share His Gospel.

#abortionhurtswomen #tellyourstory #godisgoodalways #godhealsbrokenhearts #chooselife

How Do You Fill Your Heart?

Several years ago, on a visit to my mother’s grave, I called my aunt from the cemetery because it always touched her that I went. I wasn’t sure she’d know it was me since dementia had taken much of her short-term memory. But I made the call anyway.

After the hello’s, I told her where I was. “Oh honey,” she said. “I can’t think about that right now. But don’t go away. I want you to hear this. Are you listening?”

“Yes, Aunt Jeanne Marie. I’m listening.”

“Ok, I want you to understand this.” Then she paused and I heard her draw in a deep breath. 

“Honey, you are loved with the simplicity of a child’s love. Do you know what I mean?”

The words fell gently on my heart. Their tenderness indicative of their deliverer. And years of my relationship with this beautiful woman flowed over me as I was reminded of how blessed I am to have her in my life.

You see – Aunt Jeanne Marie spent a lifetime living out Philippians 4:8. From a young age, she chose to focus on what was true, noble, and right. And she filled her heart to the brim with stuff that was pure, lovely, and admirable. 

So, at 89 years old, what came out of her mouth was the overflow of years of what she took in. And in spite of the wear and tear on her mind, her heart couldn’t help but live out Luke 6:45 – For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.

When I’m faced with a crisis, I wrestle with God. And in the wrestling, I shake my fist at Him and ask WHY? After my temper tantrum, I sit down and think of my aunt. Which inspires me to rummage through the ashes in search of something beautiful to offset my rage. I know my heart will never be as full as hers. But because of her, I’m determined to stay in the search.

What crisis of yours did God turn from ashes to beauty? How are you filling your heart?

She was a Proud Matriarch, But Probably Not Like You Think

ma·​tri·​arch ˈmā-trē-ˌärk : a mother who is head and ruler of her family and descendants

I can still hear the way she said my name. Her polished Texas accent slowly annunciating each syllable. Ehhh-len, is the best I can do to spell it. My grandmother, my mother’s mother, was highly educated, fiercely strong, and oh so outspoken. But you best be prepared, her sharp wit could cut you to the core. 

At a picnic in 1921, she and my grandfather met and instantly fell madly in love, despite both being engaged to others. By the end of the year, they were married. By 1927, they had three girls, my mother being the oldest. 

Taking charge of her children’s education, in the 1930’s, my grandmother homeschooled her kids. And while raising and educating them, she went back to school and got a master degree in education. She learned woodcarving from a master in Dallas. She read voraciously, and memorized poetry. Plus, she spent hours making crafts she sold to local shops. 

Arlington VA 1967

And every time she came from Dallas to Virginia for a visit, she brought a suitcase of clothes, and a suitcase of a craft or cooking project to keep us kids busy. 

Once she paid me $10 to memorize Rudyard Kipling’s poem “If.” On another visit, she kept using the word “eons” because it was the word of the week she had chosen to learn. And part of that “learning” was to use it often in a sentence. Which she challenged me to do with her.

Karachi Pakistan 1953

When my grandfather’s job took him around the world, she excitedly went along. Not one to let a life experience go to waste, she used her adventures to educated her grandkids. Letters filled with the history and maps of exotic (remember this was the 60’s) places like Hong Kong, Nigeria, and Pakistan, filled our mailbox. And as I read them, my world got bigger and bigger. 

At no time did my grandmother ever stop trying to influence her flock. And as I enter the twilight years of my life, I think back on all I learned from this incredible woman who never lived in the same time zone as me.

I’ve had the career. I’ve climbed the corporate ladder. I’ve battled in the rat race for over 40 years. But nothing comes close to the job of putting my energy and wisdom into raising my family up in a world that doesn’t value the role of a strong matriarch who puts her family first. 

That said, I think it’s time we take a step back and reevaluate the the important role of a strong Matriarch. And I’ll argue in favor of my opinion with one question: Are our kids better off since mother’s outsourced their leadership role at home in order to lead in the marketplace? 

What say you?

Let your life prove God to be true, and men to be liars

By the start of my junior year of high school, I was ready to be done with school. I had no plans for my future, no idea what job I’d do to support myself. I just wanted out. So, I took as few classes as possible so my day would end around noon. 

At the same time, my mother was encouraging me to pursue a career in art. All my life, she had pushed me to develop my artistic abilities. She especially thought I had a bent for design and wanted me to enroll in courses at the Corcoran Gallery in Washington DC.

So, I listened, and by the end of my junior year, I had a new vision for my life. Inspired by Peter Max and Andy Warhol, I wanted to become a commercial artist. So, I packed my senior courses with electives in art and design with a plan to eventually study art at the Corcoran. 

Then I got pregnant. 

And abortion sounded like the best option. And who would dare to deny a 17-year-old gifted artist the world that laid at her feet? 

Now, if you know a speck of my story, you know I walked out of that abortion clinic. And you know I married that baby’s father, Tim. But you may not know it was 50 years ago today that I gave birth to my daughter Kelly. Then two years later, her brother, Daniel was born. And my only regret? I didn’t have more kids.

The marriage was hard, really hard. But as I became more deeply rooted in my Christian faith, I clung to scripture for direction. I considered divorce many times, but kept coming back to the verse where Jesus said He hated divorce. 

And just when I was ready to quit, Daniel got arrested. And that forced Tim and me to come together and fight for our son. Again, I went back to the scripture where Jesus left the flock to go after the one. Which inspired Tim and me to buck up and stand by Daniel. So for the next 5 ½ years, every weekend, we laid our lives down and visited Daniel in prison. And when he got out, he never looked back.

Then after 38 years of marriage, Tim got cancer. And once again I was faced with a choice. Do I put my life on hold to care for him? I didn’t even wrestle with the decision. Again scripture led me to say, of course I will. Then all my thoughts and actions over the next 2 ½ years, centered on making Tim’s life the best it could be. And in the process, our marriage blossomed as we discovered a deeper love for one another. A love I never thought possible.

Now I wonder why I ever wrestled with God over choosing to lay my life down for others. Because these few crossroads of my life, have produced in me, the greatest satisfaction. 

Maybe that’s why parenting is so essential to our wellbeing. Maybe that’s why God consistently pushes us into situations like caring for the elderly. Maybe it’s the care giver who gets the most out of those situations. As the world tells me all the ways I am entitled to live my BEST LIFE, I think I’ll stick to what the bible says. And I’ll let what Paul said in Romans 3 prove my point:

            …let God be found true, though every man be found a liar…

When have you followed scripture when the world told you to do otherwise?

Start Heaven Today, Learn Something New

It started in my thirties. The need to push myself to see what else I could learn. I never wanted to settle. So I signed up for piano lessons with my kid’s teacher. Every week, with my music book tucked under my arm, I waited my turn to plink away. After four years, I wasn’t very good, but I proved to myself I could still learn new things.

That started a trend for the rest of my life. Every decade I would pick something new to learn.

In my forties, it was ballet. A friend of mine owned a studio in our town where most of her adult students had ballet experience. But as a kid, this tomboy never considered taking dance lessons. But every Monday for five years I stepped up to the barre and I plié’d. And to my surprise, I really liked ballet and wished I’d taken it when I was younger. 

When a move to Florida took me from the studio, and I faced another decade, I began to wonder what was next. Then in my early 50’s, my life began to unravel. Cancer took my husband Tim’s life leaving me in need of something to process my grief.

For years, Tim had begged me to get my motorcycle license. Ever since our teens, we had spent hours carving out turns on the country roads of Northern Virginia. 

So several months after his funeral, in the early morning dawn, I took my place on the motorcycle range. And for several weeks, I navigated shifting gears and slamming on the brakes and I got my motorcycle permit. 

For the next year, when the loneliness of Tim’s absence overcame me, I backed our bike out of the garage, and drove it around the lake near my home.  Once again I proved to myself that even in my 50’s, I could still learn something new.

Now in my late 60’s, the trend has not stopped. After years of being Tim’s carpentry assistant, I took on the task of renovating my little townhouse. Of course, my family helped, but I learned to cut my own angles on a chop saw as I hung my own trim. I learned to lay hardwood flooring and tile, all by myself. And the best part of all, I mastered the tape measure and all those insane sixteenths of an inch you need for fine art carpentry. 

It’s easy to grow old and think we know ourselves well. That we’re past the age to learn new things. But we humans are far more capable than we realize. Because our God created us to never stop learning new things.

I have a hunch that heaven will be much like this old earth. Only we’ll all have the benefit of endless time. 

So, what if the passions we have here on earth are what we take with us to eternity? What if we teach what we know to others? What if my ballerina friend teaches ballet classes there, and Tim teaches fine art cabinet making? What if one of the best parts of heaven is having endless time to learn and perfect new things? 

What have you not had time to learn that you wish would be there to learn in heaven?  Do you think I’m wrong? If so, tell me about it.