UNCONDITIONALLY LOVED; MASKING OFF

I am turning 26 in two months and am already a mother of three. Three dead children. And no, I didn’t have any miscarriage. I willingly aborted my three babies. I know what you’re thinking, maybe even judging…

I grew up in a loving home, had everything I needed, wanted and anything else in between. I was pretty much a daddy’s girl so my childhood was full of our outdoor adventures and lots of pampering. All was rosy until my dad got retrenched, drowned himself in alcohol and turned abusive.

I can count the nights we slept home in our beds. Majority of the nights we were chased out into the cold to sleep on verandas. Every night was a terror, afraid of what chaos he would arise. Some he would come and start beating her for no reason and no matter how much we tried to fight back, I was too little to help. I was barely nine years old then. The kicks and slaps would occasionally land on me and mum had to take the easiest route out, escape with her kids. I never understood how my hero turned out to be my greatest nightmare.

So I grew up with this deep ache and void that I couldn’t tell anyone because well, who wants to share that they live in an abusive home and every day as darkness approaches they want to die and escape the living hell??

The first man who gave me attention and tender loving swept me off my feet. I had just turned 18. I gave him my all but he didn’t reciprocate back, turned out he just wanted an easy lay. Before I could figure out the next step I got pregnant. We were both in first year at campus, he couldn’t support a family, I didn’t want to make things worse at home so I got my first abortion.

And boy did it make me a wreck, I turned promiscuous, sleeping around to numb the pain and give me a temporary distraction. E-pills became a daily diet. Didn’t take me long and I got pregnant again, this time with a married man. And again I was afraid of the shame it would bring me and the fear that I couldn’t support my baby so I aborted. This spiraled me worse and five months later I was pregnant for the third time only that this time I wasn’t sure who was the dad so I couldn’t face it and my third abortion was procured.

I was barely 24, all alone, couldn’t open up for fear of stigma so I turned to drinking and sleeping around. I struggled with my shame and my pain for so long till one night I dragged myself to church and broke down in tears. I wanted God to let me die but He wasn’t done with me clearly.

That night He reached down and whispered softly that I was His and if I allowed Him, He was able to rescue me, rebuild me and restore me. In the midst of my wailing ritual, the Lord reached out to me, gently and ever so tenderly, and He said ,” Child, enough weeping.”. He whispered it so lightly but it swiftly lifted up the heavy burden I had carried. All along I thought I was strong enough to bear the burden but I was reminded of Matthew 11:28-30-that His yoke was easy, His burden was light and my soul would find rest. At once I felt His peace flood my heart and the weight of the entire burden melted away; I was free. Free to enter His gate, free to lift up my eyes to Him, free to open up my heart to Him and free to be His beloved child.

That night I surrendered my life to Christ and I began my walk of faith. When I got born again, I felt minute in a world of strong believers. I thought that I had to shrink in a corner, stay still and watch the rest conquer the world. I felt small in my knowledge of the word, smaller in my prayer life and smallest in my relationship with God. I knew about God but I was yet to know God. I felt lucky enough that He heard my cry of help, reached deep down in the pit of pitch darkness I was in and pulled me out. I wasn’t going to push it beyond that. I was grateful.

I thought I needed to grow just a little more before I could raise my voice in prayer. I thought I needed to read the bible just a little more before I could master what needed to be prayed. I thought I needed to get just a little more closer to God before He could hear me out. It never occurred to me that He was always there even when I was far deep into the world, that He heard me before when I was at my breaking point and that He saved me when I did not deserve His amazing grace.

He had to teach me that His grace was enough and from there henceforth, I couldn’t get enough of His word, enough of praying to him constantly and enough of the overwhelming love that embraced me. It did not matter how newly saved I was, I knew He heard me and He loved me just where I was. I learnt I wasn’t required to master the bible all at once, it was a journey of learning a verse at a time and memorizing it word by word. I learnt that God didn’t expect me to pray religiously with immense jargons, He just needed me to lay my heart bare and share what I felt, as I would with a friend. I learnt that I mattered to Him as much as the rest of the congregation did, after all, He was willing to leave the 99 sheep just to come looking for the one lost sheep.

It’s a beautiful journey of falling in love deeper every day and learning how to seek God and obey Him and live a life that pleases Him. The best part of it, I don’t walk alone, He is always by my side and on those days I’m too weak, He lovingly carries me in His arms. What more could I possibly desire in life?

Do I still think of my babies, yes I do.

Am I feeling guilty? No. There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Am forgiven of my past and healed of my pain.

Though I never got a chance to truly reconcile with my dad before he passed away, but I hold no bitterness in my heart. I love him to bits even in death because at the end of it all, it’s the good memories that carry me through and above all, God’s Grace and unconditional love.

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The Writer preferred to remain anonymous