Movie Review - October Baby - Testimony

October Baby opened in select theaters across the United States this past Friday. I live near one of those theaters and am incredibly thankful to have had the opportunity to see it opening night.

I bought two tickets, not wanting to view it alone, and I took one of my best friends with me. We met for dinner beforehand, talked about life, and proceeded to the theater. 

Arriving a few minutes into the previews, we scoured the auditorium for seats. Very few remained empty, so we opted to sit toward the bottom, front row. Thank God for comfy IMAX seats we could rock back in to avoid a strained neck!

As the movie opened, I gasped at the beauty of the lake scene which followed the on-stage opening scene where we discover Hannah having a seizure. This scene leads to the doctor's office, where her parents explain to her that she is not only an adopted child, but is also the product of a failed abortion. She discovers one more detail about her life, but I won't spoil that for you. You must see it for yourself.

Why? Because there is intense realism in this story. There is truth and life. Truth isn't always pleasant. It hurts on occasion. Life can be bitter and it can be sweet. Sometimes we take a journey and later regret it. Sometimes we make a decision and find out too late it wasn't the best one. And every now and then, God will open the door for someone else's healing because of something we choose to do or say. And we may not even know it.

Whether you've been adopted and wonder what it would be like to meet your birth mother or father and ask them all the questions you've carried throughout your life OR you've made that decision to abort your pregnancy, this movie will resonate through your entire being. Emotions long buried surface as the scenes unfold.

In 1994, I carried life within my womb. With no one to support me in my desire to bring a new life into this world, I opted for the worst. I aborted my child while believing the lie that this was my only choice. Little did I know the emotional trauma that choice would leave with me for the years to come. Because when you've aborted your child, you face that heartache at every turn for the rest of your life. When you get pregnant again. When you watch mommies with their babies in public. When you give birth. When you celebrate birthdays. When you celebrate graduations. When you celebrate weddings. When you watch movies like October Baby. It doesn't go away, even when you bury it deep within your heart and promise yourself to never face it again. Even then, it's still there. Only you refuse to admit it.

The only true healing comes when you recognize Jesus as your Lord and Savior and understand that His blood covers all of your sin. Even the ones you have a difficult time forgiving yourself (and others) for. You can try to deny it. But deep down, you recognize its truth, because that conviction you feel prompts you to believe it. I know. I had a hard time forgiving myself. I said I'd never do it, but I did. It wasn't until I begged God to help me forgive myself that I could overcome those thoughts and accusations against me.

Toward the end of the movie, a simple note is left behind: I forgive you. The wound in my heart ripped open once more as I remembered God's words to me in a dream: I forgive you. She forgives you. Now, forgive yourself. Three simple words can bring so much healing. I forgive you.

The film came to its conclusion, and the theater erupted in applause. There are only three other times I remember hearing this occur. The Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Passion of the Christ. I remained in my seat at the end of the film, waiting to see my friend, Cecil Stokes', name come up on the screen. Several others began rising from theirs, ready to exit the room. As soon as actress Shari Rigby began sharing her testimony, those standing froze and turned to listen. I, in my seat, began to sob. And continued to sob until the lights came up. God once again touched my heart as I mourned my decision made so many years made before. 

Life never stops reminding us of the choices we make every day. Forgiveness is there, but the memories never fade. 

This movie is one I highly encourage all to see. There aren't enough words to describe it. Intense. Emotional. Vibrant. Thoughtful. Inspiring. Provocative. If you haven't seen it, please do. Encourage Hollywood to continue to produce pro-life movies with encouraging messages. We need more films like this in our world. I know I'll be one of the first in line to buy it on DVD, too...

My Testimony - Part Two - Called Out

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." ~ 1 John 1:9  

Later that week I called home. Mothers have a sixth sense when it comes to their children. Mine knew that there was something deeper than simple dehydration when I had spoken to her from the hospital a couple of weeks before. 

When I finished explaining to her what I'd been through and decided to do, she sympathized. She also told me that she wished I had told her before I had the abortion. She would have told me to have the baby. If only we had foresight...

I made arrangements to travel home for a week. It was the first time in years that I had ever desired home. I found out upon returning there was a new church in town and my parents had finally found a "fit". My siblings were raving about it, so I knew I would probably enjoy attending.

Photo Courtesy of Paolo Gadler

The first experience that I had of this new place was a barbecue at the Pastor's house late in the week. I immediately recognized people that I had gone to high school with. That amazed me. They weren't classmates of mine; most had graduated a couple to a few years ahead of me. But, I knew who they were, nonetheless. If this place was good for them, it would probably be good for me.

I trusted one enough, and I knew I needed an answer to my burning question, so I asked Dean if he could save me. Looking back, we laugh, and his answer is obvious, "I can't save you, but Jesus can." It was at this moment that I said a prayer of salvation. It was at this moment that I confessed my sins before God and asked for His forgiveness. I learned in that moment that Jesus did die on the cross for me. God did love me enough to provide healing and love and comfort to my broken heart.

I was very surprised when the Pastor asked me to repeat my prayer in front of the congregation on Sunday. He felt that it would be a testimony to others in the congregation. If it meant that someone else could feel the excitement and joy and life that Jesus had just granted me, then I was all for it. I repeated my prayer on Sunday morning, and when Pastor Engelhardt announced that I was going to be baptized that afternoon, two others joined me.

Photo Courtesy of Mee Lin Woon

It was a fairly cool day for early August, and Dry Brook Creek was chilly, as well. I didn't notice. What I noticed was I felt new on the inside but dirty on the outside going into the river. Pastor spoke to me about the significance of being submerged in baptism and how it represents Jesus' death, time in the tomb, and resurrection to new life. It represents how we are dying to our self, our flesh, putting it in a grave, and being born again to a new life in Christ. We become a new person.

Then, with the help of another, he submerged me. I don't like swimming in the river, because it smells like fish. It feels slimy. Well, not that day. I came back up feeling the cleanest I'd ever felt in my entire life. It was like I had just taken a bath in purity. I was definitely a new person.

I went back to college, found a local church to attend and started to read the Bible again. Words were fresh and new to me, and they came to life. It was no longer just a book. It was full of life. I understood things I never could before.

The most difficult thing for me was forgiving myself. I knew and understood that Jesus had forgiven me. It was easy for me to forgive others who were involved in my sin, as well. I had seen changes in my father while I was home, and I was glad that he had found a new love. I ran into my ex-boyfriend on campus, and he was apologetic and had decided a little too late that we should not have gone through the abortion procedure. I explained to him the forgiveness that I had found through Jesus, and I told him that I was alright and had forgiven him for everything. I hoped that it made a difference in his life. I still had to forgive myself.

That night, I had a dream. I had been reading the Bible before falling asleep. I then prayed for God to help me to forgive myself for all that I had done in my past. As I slept, I saw a playground sandbox. I was standing outside of the sandbox, watching in the first person. I saw the green grass, perfect, all around me and the sandbox. The sun was shining; the sky was clear and the perfect shade of blue for a sunny day. In the sandbox was a little girl, no more than 3 years old. She had tight, curly brown hair (my ex was African American) tied up in marble pig tail holders, huge brown eyes with long, beautiful lashes, and a smile that delighted my soul. She was wearing pink corduroy OshKosh bibs, with a white, short-sleeved polo shirt with a ribbon-trimmed collar. She was perfect. I watched her play for a bit, and then she looked up at me, stood up, and reached out for me to pick her up. She wrapped her little arms tight around my neck and proclaimed her love for me. It was in this moment that I knew that not only God forgave me, but she forgave me as well. She was in heaven with her Daddy, and I would see her again one day. God promised me that all was okay, through that dream. It was now a whole lot easier to forgive myself.

I continued to read the word and go to church for a couple of months, but one day I started to slip, and I knew it. After fighting with my flesh for a few weeks, I decided that I needed to move back home and be close to people who could help me in my new life as a born-again believer.

However, even that wasn't enough. After being home a short time, I met another guy and decided that the path I'd found toward God was not the one for me. I started hanging out with him and my parents eventually set up an appointment for them and me to meet with Pastor Engelhardt and his wife, Nancy.

I was seething with rebellion, and I was infuriated that my parents would force me to go to an appointment with them, because I knew that my rebellion was the focus. I was obstinent. I wasn't about to let someone else tell me how to live my life. Nancy got in my face that day. I hated it. My parents gave me the option to choose to live as I should and follow God's way or I had to leave home. They would not let me continue to live according to my flesh under their roof. It was the hardest thing my mother had ever had to do. And, I never dreamed my parents would actually kick me out.

My boyfriend and I moved to Binghamton, two hours from home, and life was about to take another turn for me. It was about six months into the relationship that I realized I was trying once again to be the Savior to someone. It was in this relationship that I realized that I could never change another human by loving them out of their issues. Sin is generational, and my boyfriend's father was an angry, bitter man. Multiply that, and you would have my boyfriend, twice as angry and turning abusive.

He was emotionally abusive at first, saying things that were spiteful and meant to sting.

However, one morning I would come to find out that he was also physically abusive.

We received a phone call at around 7AM from his employer. They were trying to find out something about his time card. I took a message, but I was half asleep and did not write down the contact's name or the phone number (we had to have the phone number somewhere...it was his employer). I had just come off of my night shift at our local diner, and the call had awoken me from that depth of sleep one experiences just after finally dozing off.

Well, he didn't appreciate my lack of detail in the message, so he decided to pick up his steel toed work boot and hit me in the middle of my lower back with it while I was laying on my side in bed, unaware of the oncoming pain.

This unnerved me just a bit, so I took off from the apartment shortly after and went to a fellow worker's to call the incident in to the local authorities, who said they couldn't do anything because he didn't leave a visible mark. He had left the apartment and was driving around in his car when he heard it over the scanner. Upon my return to the apartment, he was even angrier than before and decided to threaten me. After being thrown up against the wall by my neck, I decided this wasn't the best situation to be in. I didn't exactly know how to handle it, though, because now I was being physically attacked.

I continued life like normal, and one morning shortly thereafter I returned from work and went to bed as usual. Only this morning, I couldn't seem to fall asleep, and tired as I was, I couldn't understand why I wasn't able to drift off. I tossed and turned for awhile, until I heard Him. God spoke to me that morning in a very audible voice. His words were few and simple and extremely clear. "IF YOU DON'T GO HOME NOW, YOU'LL NEVER SEE YOUR ETERNAL HOME."

That was it. His voice was clear. His voice was loud. His voice resonated with His authority. His voice was that of a Father who loves His child desperately and wants immediate obedience to His word. My mission was clear. My life was suddenly very clear.

I made the excuse that I couldn't sleep and was craving coffee, so I was going to the diner to write. It was just down the street. It was a rainy fall day, drizzly and grey. I grabbed my umbrella and journal, my pencil and my Bible (which I hadn't read in months). I almost ran down the street to the payphone, where I called my mom from.

I explained what was going on in our relationship and what God had just told me. She told me that she and my dad would come to get me, but she put a condition on it. She knew my love for music, and she knew about some of the music that I had in my collection (like, Pantera, Nine Inch Nails, Pearl Jam, Two Live Crew, and more...). I had over 500 cassettes at the time, and it would continue to grow if it weren't for her condition to get rid of it before they got there. Easy enough. Fair enough. Not a big deal considering the life I'd been leading. I didn't want to risk my life trying to leave the relationship, so she and I planned with wisdom that I would call home when he left for work again. He worked for the railroad, so he was out on the "road" for at least 48 hours when he was called in. It was an opportune time for me to pack up and leave without him even knowing I was going.

Photo Courtesy of Marcos Santos

I spent the rest of that day reading my Bible, refreshing my spirit man with strength and comfort from God's word, and praying that he would get called out then. He had no clue that I was planning to return home while he was gone. I played the role very well.

God hears His children when they cry out to Him, and He made good on His word that I needed to return home. My boyfriend got called to work that evening. I drove him to the train station in his car, dropped him off and kissed him goodbye like all was well, drove back to the apartment and made the call to Mom and Dad.

By 11PM, I was packed and they were there to pick me up and drive me home. The prodigal daughter had returned home. Not only to her earthly home, but to her Father in heaven as well. My life would never be the same again. It was on that day in November of 1996 that I fully dedicated my life to God and Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior. It was that day that I knew that God loved me and cared for me like no one else ever had, would, or could. It was that day that I knew that He was REALLY REAL. It was that day that I fully gave everything within me and around me to Him. I was truly saved.

My Testimony - Part One - Salvation

It is Easter week, and I find myself very thoughtful and very thankful. It wasn't so long ago that the only meaning Easter had for me was the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, whoever He was. I didn't know Him, and I didn't have any desire to. I was doing life just fine by myself. Or so I thought...

I had always gone to church as a child. My mom tells me that I used to get myself ready for the Sunday School bus in Kentucky. I walked to church each week with my friends when I was in Canisteo, NY and around 7 years old. I rode to church with my best friend, whose mother drove over 40 miles every weekend just to make certain I was able to attend in Margaretville, NY. I was about 10 years old then. And, in the midst of my pre-teen to mid-teen years, Mom and Dad faithfully dragged us from one church to another, trying desperately to find a perfect "fit" for us. I was certainly having a fit each time I was forced to go.

Once I left for college, I was on my own. I didn't have to attend church. I wasn't very interested in Jesus or God. I was on my own for the first time, and I was more interested in finding someone to love me while attending classes and working part time. I valued my freedom and walked in it well. I dreamed of meeting Mr. Right, and I dreamed of getting a degree in communications, so that I could become a magazine journalist.

Photo Courtesy of Bert Heuvel

My desire to find "true love" stemmed from a few things.

The first was the lack of attention at home when I was growing up. I had a lot of attention from my mother. She was great at taking us for walks, playing board games, and more. Dad, however, was always at work, and he worked hard to provide for us. Looking back, I know that some of the long hours were due to a good work ethic and responsibility as provider for the family. Some of it, however, was a lack of understanding how to love and nurture a family.

The second root of my desire was caused by the inconsideration of peers in my classrooms growing up. I was moved in the midst of third grade, from a comfortable place full of friends to a strange place full of strangers, who were not very welcoming. I would develop a few friends over the years, whose friendship I still value today. However, I would spend my primary and high school years being made fun of and tormented by fellow students who never would attempt to allow me to join their circle of friends. And, not having a relationship with God, I desperately desired to have a relationship with a boy who would consider me worthy of his attention. I did find a few throughout those years, and to say the least I was extremely naive and thought that I could find love wrapped in their arms.

I went off to college, and I learned this Scripture verse very well: "Let no one say when he is tempted, 'I am tempted by God'; for God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does He Himself tempt anyone. But each one is tempted when he is drawn away by his own desires and enticed. Then, when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, brings forth death. Do not be deceived..." - James 1:13-16 (NKJV)

Here is where my testimony begins.

I spent too many years trying to fill a void that my earthly father had left in my heart. It needed love and affection and attention, but it was left empty and longing. I desired to have a safe, comforting love. I had emptiness and loneliness and disappointment.

I didn't know God at this point in my life, so I knew that I was not tempted by Him. I knew what I was doing was evil and unhealthy for me, but it felt good in the physical aspect of my life, so I continued to pursue relationships with guys who would love me one day and disappoint me the next. I was drawn by my desires for attention and affection, and their words and promises were enticing, although consistently empty and full of their own desires. I put myself through heartache and disappointment, in hopes of one day finding someone who would treasure the beauty that I knew lay deep within me, somewhere. My desires had become definite sins, and my sin was growing up, for sure.

I had a relationship in high school that led to a pregnancy scare. I was extremely naive, and I did take the issue to my mother, because I was scared and knew not what to do. I have to tell you, my father about disowned me. I received a type-written note telling me that if I were indeed pregnant, he would recommend that I abort the child, so that his social and work image would not be marred. I was truly devastated at this point. The one man that I was looking for love and encouragement and admiration from was cold and harsh and worried more about his own image than the health and well-being of his daughter. I think this was the point in time when I gave up all hope of any true affection from him. It was at this point, as well, that I began to fall into depression.

I was very excited when I left for my secondary education. I could not wait to get away from the small town that I had grown up in. I could not wait to get away from people who thought they knew everything about me and who had treated me like dirt my entire life. I could not wait to get away from the home that I felt had become a bit unloving. I could not wait for my independence, new friends, and new possibilities! I was all grown up!

Unfortunately, so was my sin. I had three types of relationships in college.

The first was a guy that I fell madly, head over heals in love with. I really thought that he might be "the one". We spent a lot of time together, and it was always easy around him. I enjoyed his presence, and I desired it a lot. My grades were holding, and I was doing well. I had a new best friend, and she was the one who introduced us. I was happy and content.

Then, one day, he decided not to make contact any more. (I have seen him since, and it just wasn't meant to be. There are no hard feelings. We'd probably still be friends if life hadn't taken us down different and distant roads.)

The second relationships were ones where I was trying to love a young man enough that he would be able to get past his own issues. I call this the "Savior Mentality." If I just love them enough...they'll... These relationships never work out. I came to a realization later in life that you cannot change a person. Only God can. That's why Jesus is our Savior.

The last relationship I had in college was when I learned that "when sin is full-grown, it brings forth death." I met the guy while playing a game of "Dungeons and Dragons" with my roommate and a couple of friends. We appeared to hit it off pretty quickly, flirting throughout the game. We hooked up, and, well, desire birthed sin.

Sin grew up, and I became pregnant. It was summer vacation, and I had chosen to stay at the college and work for a lady providing day care for her three month old daughter. She was the cutest little girl, and I absolutely loved my job and loved watching her. I had a lot of fun. I got to watch her grow. Her smile was beautiful, and her eyes lit up her face! I was well-paid for a college kid, and I was happy again.

I realized I had missed my monthly cycle about two weeks after it was due, when my brand new clothing started getting a bit tight around the waist. My boyfriend and I went to Wegmans, bought a home pregnancy test, and headed back for the dorms. Sure enough, it was a positive response.

I immediately became ill. I spent the next few weeks waking up, throwing up, showering, throwing up, going to work, trying not to throw up while at work, going back to my dorm room, throwing up, crawling into bed, sleeping all night, and repeating the routine moment for moment the following day. I wasn't keeping food down. I craved salads, but every time I ate one I was unable to keep it down. I eventually dehydrated.

I spent a night in the ER, hooked up to an I.V., receiving replenishing fluids. My mother happened to be visiting with my grandparents that weekend, so she was an hour and a half away, rather than the normal four hours it took to get to college from home. I desperately needed her and wanted her to come visit, which she was willing to do, but I could in no way let my old-fashioned grandparents know the truth about my visit to the hospital, and they were insistent that they would come with her. I told her not to come.

It was shortly after that when my boyfriend recommended that we take care of our situation. I had sworn all throughout my teens that if I ever ended up in this situation, I would not consider abortion as an option. I still didn't want to consider it. I would rather consider adoption, if I was in no position to keep a child. However, my boyfriend was now recommending it. He already had a child who was living with his mother several states south. He didn't want to add another. I began to remember the words my father had typed out several years earlier, so I couldn't call home to get an opinion or counsel. I wasn't attending church, so there was no counsel there. I didn't trust anyone else my senior. And, my friends were non-judgmental, so they would not counsel me in one direction or another. They respected my choice, either way.

We headed to Planned Parenthood for our first appointment, to verify that I was indeed with child. The lady that I met for counsel there seemed to be very sweet, and I really believe that if it weren't against their policy, she probably would have told me to keep my child. However, it is against their policy to tell a woman this, as they are pro-choice.

Being pro-choice does not mean that a woman has a right to choose to keep their baby. Beware, it simply means the woman has the choice to kill their child if they want to. And, they will not counsel you to respect life. By pregnancy help center, they mean help to terminate the pregnancy, not help through the pregnancy.

We set up the appointment for the procedure, and we headed back to the campus. I spent the next night tossing and turning, crying for someone to come along and tell me they would support my decision to give my child the right to their life. Deep inside, I knew what I was doing was completely wrong. My conscience knew it. All it would take was ONE person to tell me to have the baby, and I would be released from my appointment of death. No one came forth.

I went in the next morning, into a concrete room with a single metal hospital table in the midst of it, and something that looked like a ShopVac cleaner. The doctor and the nurse came in, and it began. I about died myself from the pain of the anaesthetic shots they inject inside. Once the numbness kicked into my physical being, it kicked into my spiritual one as well. I put up my wall, and no one was allowed in.

I listened to the nurse tell me how excellent I was doing at killing my child. "Most girls cry and scream," she said. "You aren't even flinching." Yeah, that was something to be proud of. I took the life of my own flesh and blood without flinching.

Upon completion of the abortion, I was sent to recovery. I was given orange juice and a cookie, like a child getting a treat for good behavior. My blood sugar levels would be watched and I would be released.

Simple outpatient procedure to take a life. Supposedly there would be no after-effects, either. There would be nothing to worry about. It was done. It was over. What they don't tell you is that you will live with the knowledge that you committed a murder legally, and you will live with it for the rest of your life.

God gave us this thing called a conscience. It's where you know that He is real and true, but you can still choose to deny it. It's also where you can deny that abortion is murder by justifying that it isn't a baby until it's outside of the womb, but you know deep down that the truth is, it is a baby. You can feel it growing and changing inside of you, and you know it is alive, no matter how small or underdeveloped it is.

The problem with that mentality is that when you choose to have a child later in life, or if you've ever had a child, you know from experience how life develops and grows and that you were lying to yourself the entire time you were going through the abortion process. I had to face reality. I was a mess. I had taken my child's life, and I didn't have much of one left of my own. I screwed it up. I obviously couldn't do it alone. No one else seemed to love me enough to care, so I had only one place to go. To God.