I shared this part of my testimony many years ago, but for the last 16 years, Rachel’s death overshadowed every part of my life. Her loss changed everything. I’ve kept this part of my story close to my heart for too long. And while the pain of losing Rachel is still part of my daily life, I know it’s time to share this…
The Beginning of My Walk with Christ
Even though my parents were Christians, we weren’t regular churchgoers. We were the Christmas and Easter crowd. But in the 6th grade, a friend invited me to MYF (Methodist Youth Fellowship), and I started going faithfully. Before long, I was attending church too. My parents would drop me off for Sunday School and pick me up after service.
Like all good Methodist kids, I went through confirmation class, and on Easter Sunday in 1976, I publicly professed my faith in Christ. From that moment, I was hungry for His Word and His presence. But as life went on, things changed.
After high school, I moved to Sherman for college at Austin College. Without a church home or accountability, I drifted. I strayed from Him. And while I know now that He never left me—“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” (Deuteronomy 31:8)—I walked away from Him for a time. Without that intimate relationship, I made choices that led me down a path of pain, regret, and shame.
The Secret I Carried
“We are in churches, we are in shopping centers. We have bachelor's degrees, master's degrees, and PhDs. We are women who have experienced abortion. We have a secret we cannot share. If people knew the truth about us, they wouldn’t like us, love us, or associate with us. We have committed a sin so terrible, we believe it is unforgivable. Society is not going to punish us—we punish ourselves… But something snaps, and we learn that we CAN recover from our sin and even find peace. When we understand and recognize the loss of our child, grieve that loss, and accept God’s forgiveness, then we are free to forgive ourselves and go on to the hope that Christ offers on the cross and still offers today.”
— Her Choice to Heal by Carol Everett
I was that woman.
In 1986 and again in 1987, I terminated my pregnancies. I kept that secret locked away for years, living in my own self-imposed prison. For at least a decade, I carried the weight of shame, guilt, and unworthiness. During those years, I got married, gave birth to two beautiful children, graduated from nursing school, and began my career as a labor and delivery nurse. Those should have been some of the happiest years of my life, but instead, they were some of the darkest.
People had told me I would forget. And in some ways, they were right. I buried those memories so deep that I convinced myself they weren’t real. I told no one except my husband. I lived in denial. But God had a plan to bring my hidden pain into His healing light.
Facing My Past & Finding Freedom
In 1993, God led me to my current job as a labor and delivery nurse. Every day, I witnessed the miracle of life—and every day, I was forced to face what I had done.
It wasn’t until 1996, at a women's retreat in Falls Creek, Oklahoma, that everything came crashing down. I heard the testimony of another post-abortive woman, and for the first time, I truly faced my past. The shame, grief, and anger overwhelmed me. But it was also the first time I truly leaned into Him.
I knew God had forgiven me—“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9)—but the hardest part was forgiving myself. I’ll never forget the moment at Great Hills in Austin when I physically nailed my sin to a cross. We each took a nail and pounded it in, surrendering our burdens to Jesus. That day, the shame, guilt, and anger lost their hold on me. I was free.
A New Beginning
As a Methodist child, I had been christened as an infant. When I started attending FBC in 1988, I never officially joined because I knew baptism by immersion was required. And if I’m honest, I wasn’t ready for that.
I didn’t feel worthy. I didn’t feel clean enough.
But the truth is, none of us are ever "good enough" on our own. That’s why Jesus came. His blood washes us white as snow—“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.” (Isaiah 1:18).
On February 7, 1999, I publicly professed my faith once again and was baptized. This time, I understood what it meant. It wasn’t about being worthy—it was about being redeemed.
Beauty from Ashes
Looking back, I can see that even in my darkest moments, God never let go of me. He was always there, waiting for me to turn back to Him. And when I finally did, He didn’t shame me—He embraced me. He took my brokenness and made something beautiful out of it.
“To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory.” (Isaiah 61:3).
I won’t say the road has been easy. The scars remain. But I am living proof that God truly does bring beauty from ashes.
No sin is too great for His grace. No past is too broken for His redemption. If you are carrying shame, regret, or grief, I want you to know this:
Jesus is waiting with open arms.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)
He forgives. He restores. He makes all things new.
And that includes you. ❤️
