Living Truly Pro-Life

On what should have been one of the happiest days of my life, discomfort was my only focus.

My husband Kyle and I fostered eleven children over the past seven years. We have adopted two – our daughter, now seven-years-old, and our son, now five-years-old. Seven of our foster children have been reunified with their biological families. Our most recent case involved a four-year-old girl and her newborn sister. After a year of caring for them, with caseworker visits, monthly reports, and court appearances, we were finally at the trial date. The caseworkers decided that the birthparents’ rights would be terminated, move forward with us adopting the girls.

I was mostly nervous about testifying in court during the trial. (I was there by myself, as my husband was teaching. The kids aren’t normally required to be present at the court appearances.) I as the foster mother would testify to the girls' conditions when they first came to us, and our interactions with the birthmother at the visits.

On top of those physiological nerves, I was feeling anxious wondering if the birthmother, “Michelle”, would attend. Michelle hadn't seen the girls in almost five months. Only a few months back, she signed relinquishment papers to voluntarily surrender her rights. This is a somewhat common occurrence IF termination of the parents’ rights appears inevitable. The birthparents sometimes sign relinquishment papers voluntarily to avoid a termination being put on their record.

However, Michelle had recently declared that signing was a mistake, and that she was requesting a new lawyer to help her take back the relinquishment and continue fighting for the girls. Obviously, it doesn't work that way, but I still wondered what she would do if she showed up to court. However relatively polite Michelle had been when we had met in the past, these recent actions led me to dread whatever confrontation we might have.

When I walked through the hallway and found our courtroom, I saw Michelle sitting on the bench outside. The nerves kicked in again. So many feelings – worry, sadness, grief, anxiety.

And so, with my heart pounding and stomach churning, I went to the restroom to get it together. Honestly, it probably was due to cowardice; I wanted to stay removed from all of these emotions and thoughts rapidly flowing through me.

I have seen a quote by Jody Landers that goes like this: “A child born to another woman calls me Mommy. The magnitude of that tragedy and the depth of that privilege are not lost on me.” How true this is. Although incredibly joy-filled with knowing that the girls would be part of our forever-family, of being done with the court proceedings, my husband and I were aware that our joy comes at someone else’s great misery. Nobody was playing the “us versus them” game, but on that day the path would be permanently chosen – us versus her. Not a comfortable day to be living through, from anyone’s perspective.

Once I took some deep breaths and collected myself, I was now ready to calmly exit, ready for our case to be called into the courtroom.

And my foster children’s birthmother was standing there washing her hands at the sinks.

She looked up as I walked out and our eyes met. I blandly smiled, and she gave me a watery smile back and looked away. I began washing my hands at the sink next to hers.

Ugh. Could this be any more awkward?

At this point, something became crystal clear to me. Yup, it was awkward. The birthmother on the day her parental rights are terminated and the adoptive mother going home to them after court concludes. We were “supposed” to be on opposite “sides”. Shouldn’t she be angry at me for stealing her rightful place as her children’s mother? Shouldn’t I be judgmental and condescending, knowing everything in her life and lifestyle that led to the removal of her children? Shouldn’t we hate each other as adversaries?

And it truly hit me that Michelle was not the “other side”. She was the mother of my children – or, rather, the children who, by God’s goodness, would soon be named part of my family forever. Here was a young woman, only a few years younger than I was, who had been torn up by life’s hardness. Trapped in a deep hole of her own making, with each day proving more difficult to overcome. Without support of family or friends, much less a committed husband. No steady home life growing up and now a single mom going from job to job, and from place to place. Unhealthy influences all around, all her life. My modest life seemed palatial in comparison. Today was the day on which her last link to her two daughters would be forever severed. It mattered not to that she was facing the consequences of her actions. She wasn’t a rival in some game - but someone hurting.

At that point, my nervousness and anxiety about this day seemed selfish. How could I stand there silently, because I felt “awkward”, when someone was aching beside me? Chastised, I threw up a quick prayer for forgiveness. And then the thought surfaced, “Well, if it were me, I’m sure I could use a hug.” Then, “Do it. Can’t get any more awkward.”

I dried my hands, walked over, and threw my arms around her. I told her that we recognized how painful this day was for her. That for today at least, hurt for her was overshadowing any excitement we could feel. I told her how much we loved those little girls, and I choked up as I vowed to care for them to the best of my ability all my life. I told her she would always be in our prayers.

Her tears now flowing as well, she thanked me. She humbly expressed gratitude for us loving her children as much as she did. She acknowledged that her life was currently unstable, and that she knew she was unable to care for the girls the way she would like. She went on to say an abundance of kind affirmations for my husband and me that soothed my soul. We stood there, talking, bonded by our love for our children, the conversation comforting each of us, if even just a degree.

We hugged again as we exited the women’s restroom. She turned to me and said, “I’m not going to fight the relinquishment papers today. If I can’t be there for my daughters, at least I know they have you in their lives.”

Our case was called into the courtroom soon afterwards. Michelle was the first witness on the stand. She stated that she was voluntarily relinquishing her rights and supportive of an adoption by our family. As soon as she was dismissed, she walked out of the courtroom without a backward glance, out of our family’s lives.

I am pro-life. And this encounter with Michelle expanded my view of what that means.

We have been incredibly blessed through the gift of adoption, with two children already adopted and two more very soon. But before this, we experienced years of praying and hoping for a child. Naturally, that made us extra sensitive regarding children who need a home, who are neglected or abused or unwanted.

In terms of babies, I believe life begins at conception, each human a glorious unfolding of God-given potential - regardless of background or the way in which the baby was conceived. The concept of abortion breaks my heart. I would lovingly tell ANY woman considering abortion, without judgment, that if she doesn’t desire to parent her baby, we would be honored to do so. I know numerous other families have struggled with infertility (or haven’t) and feel similarly. Every abortion could have been a baby, an answer to the prayers of a loving family. Isaiah 1:17 (ESV) tells us, “Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause.” Christians use this verse to support adoption, and the loving provision of homes to children who need them. Everyone is, surely, moved by the sight of a helpless baby, and willing to extend caring arms to lift up that child.

The majority of Christians in America today would identify themselves as “pro-life.” But to some of our fellow Americans, that just appears to mean that we are anti-abortion and it might not mean much else. As the Casting Crowns song “Jesus, Friend of Sinners” aptly states, “Nobody knows what we’re for, only what we’re against when we judge the wounded. What if we put down our signs, crossed over the lines, and loved like You did?” While abortion is unequivocally against our pro-life stance, what if more could be shown in our declarations?

I am so tired of hearing that pro-life Christians are only against abortions, but not for helping those babies once they are born, nor the mothers who choose life for their babies but subsequently have to live in poverty and be a “drain on the system.” False.

Recently following the comments attached to an online article on the topic, I repeatedly saw, “If you’re against abortion, what have you personally as a so-called Christian done yourself for these unwanted babies? Have you fostered or adopted children? Have you fed the hungry or invited the homeless into your home?” That irks me, knowing that so many loving Christians DO accomplish much good in their communities because of their understanding that all life is sacred.

However, that’s a fair challenge.

I am not saying that all Christians follow that stereotype. But what witness does our world see about Christ and His Church from the news, the media, from our everyday actions? What if we went above and beyond to prove that we value ALL life as our God does?

By declaring that I am “pro-life”, I am not called to be concerned with only adorable babies. Could the verse above focus on modern-day single mothers and foster children? How about a homeless person we see on the corner? What about someone from a different cultural or socio-economic experience than us, or in another part of the world? Aren’t their lives valuable to their Creator? Could our valuing life extend to the annoying or hurtful person at work or in our church?

I love my babies. They needed a home and we jumped at the chance to be their parents. We were called to this life of fostering and adopting as our parenting journey, and feel blessed to be used in this manner. And that day, being with Michelle helped me realize that every interaction we have is an opportunity to be pro-life. Jesus’s words clearly say, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” (Matthew 25:40, ESV) Even if it’s not natural or feels weird. Hugging the birthmother of my adoptive children and crying in a bathroom with her? At that moment, that felt like being pro-life to me.

All life is sacred. All life. That’s why Christians are against abortion, which ends a life. It’s important to spread our message in gentle love that babies have rights as well as women. There are so many families ready to adopt, and many organizations willing to walk beside those in need in a caring manner. This part IS incredibly important to us and to our Creator.

AND, beyond the abortion issue, let’s be known for proclaiming God’s love and salvation to all mankind. We may not agree with each other on everything, but we can still value people and extend compassion. We can still step out in faith, even when it’s uncomfortable. Let’s get messy in this wonderful, crazy community God has provided for us – at home, in our country, and throughout His world.

What can you do today to share His mercy? Think big or small! Go participate in a missionary trip overseas. But also... Go invite someone to Thanksgiving dinner who may be alone or in need of a meal. Go volunteer in a food pantry or crisis pregnancy center in your home town. Go pray about what God’s people can do regarding the refugee crisis happening right now. Whatever it is, GO! DO!

I share about that day not to bring attention to myself or our family. I am guilty of so many lost chances when I could have shared kindness, of not wanting to love uncomfortably. I was convicted and humbled as I remembered “what kind of love the Father has given to us”. (1 John 3:1) If He can lavish me with love, grace, and daily forgiveness, I can in some small way, with the help of His Spirit, attempt to do so to my fellow human beings - however many mistakes I make along the way.

God inspired James to write, “Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” (James 2:17, ESV) Let’s show the world a living faith that moves beyond politics and boundaries, beyond comfort zones.