Saturday, December 31, 2011

Sick 1

I found out recently, just before Christmas in fact, that I have some severe spinal problems. At the age of two, I decided to head dive out of a shopping cart into a hard floor. Smart kid, I know. I didn't show any symptoms of injury except for two MMA worthy black eyes. On the outside I looked fine, but on the inside I was badly damaged. As I grew up, my muscles adjusted and twisted my rib cage sideways. My shoulders, which already look abnormal cause they're tiny, are crooked and my neck has too many problems to count.

All my life I've been in pain. I can remember nights when I was little where I would sit in my mom's lap and sob for hours because of the pain in my legs. And gradually, I stopped being able to feel it. I now have an extremely high tolerance for pain because I'm so used to it. Everything is just a kind of dull ache. It's going to take a long time for me to get better. 

People hear this and their eyes widen and some form of "wow" comes out. Yet they're living with the same thing in a different form. Everyone is born with a soul that is more messed up than my spine is. That's saying a lot. When I was younger I knew something was wrong with me. People often comment on how children are so innocent and vulnerable. There's a reason for that; they haven't gotten used to the pain yet. 

When I would cry so much about my legs, my mom would go to doctors. Repeatedly, they assured us that my symptoms were "normal" and just part of "growing up." They said nothing was wrong with me. As children grow up, the world continually tells them that certain things are "normal" and that they are just fine. So children continue on with their problems unsolved. They get used to the pain and block out the sting of their conscience more and more skillfully, until they grow up and guilt is just a constant ache.  

Remember when you thought you would never steal? And then you stole something and it was that much easier the next time? Remember when you were little and you couldn't get away with telling lies cause you were so obvious? Then you got practice. 
We just kinda get to the point where doing certain things hurts just a tiny bit, but since you're constantly hurting, you don't mind too much. 

But of course, every now and then, "life happens," and you are in pain. And once again you find yourself up at night, crying because something is not right. It took severe prolonged pain to finally send me to a different doctor. He looked at me and said, "Honestly, you're a mess. but I can fix this." 

Jesus was called the Great Physician for a reason. 

I can't adjust my own back any more than you can save your own soul. Humans are sinful. You have done wrong things that mess you up like nose diving into a concrete floor does. God looks at you and says, "You're messed up. You can't do anything to fix yourself. But I can, and I really want to. Matter of fact, I want to so much that I sacrificed my own Son on a cross and brought Him back to life just for you." 

We don't deserve the attentions or help of God. We have no right to Him or His skill because we are so sick. We can't pay the fee to see the doctor. But that's what Jesus' death on the cross was; He paid for you to have access to the Great Physician. All you need to do is accept Him and acknowledge both your guilt of all the bad things you've done and the fact that Jesus paid the price for them. Jesus said in Matthew 9:12-13, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. [...] For I came not to call the righteous but sinners." 

God made you perfect but your sin messed that up and distanced you from God. You're not the only one. When the people who killed Jesus were confronted, "they were cut to the heart, and said "[...] what shall we do?" And peter said to them, "Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." -Acts 2:37-39

Our family has paid for a plan to see my doctor regularly so I have full access to him. But I still have to make the effort to go to him. I have to apply the diet and exercise guides he gives me. Same thing with God. Having access to a doctor won't help you get better. Going to him and following what he tells you to will. So use the opportunity provided to you. 

If you're a Christian, then keep going to the Doctor. And don't just look at your friends who are still sick and place your comfort above their health. Talk to them. Tell them about this great Doctor you've found. 

If you're not a Christian, if you're messed up, then what are you waiting for? 
Repent. Believe. 

"I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst. [...] All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out. [...] And this is the will of Him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all He has given me, but raise it up on the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life and i will raise him up on the last day." -Jesus.  John 6:35, 37,39-40


Thursday, December 29, 2011

My Beginning.

Most people start their testimony out by "I was born and raised in a Christian home." Mine is a little different. It starts before I was born. 

     My birth mother, we'll call her Leah for privacy reasons, was living with her boyfriend when she discovered she was pregnant. I have one picture of her. She gave me a lot of her characteristics; dark hair, dark eyes, and short. She was a body builder.  Unfortunately, body builders often use drugs and she did too. Up until discovering her pregnancy, Leah used crystal methamphetamine. That basically makes me a drug baby; I wasn't an ideal human anymore and might have a poor "quality of life." Her boyfriend, also a body builder, had no interest in a child, seeing me as a nuisance and bother, not a life. After all, Leah had taken drugs and that's not the best thing to do to ensure the health of a baby. He told her that if she didn't get an abortion, he would kick her out. Simple enough decision. She had no where to go. My very existence was an inconvenience that a basic procedure would fix, ridding her of her "fetus." 

     I wonder what the doctor told her. I wonder how the nurses assured her. What words did people use to convince her that I wasn't a life, that I had no future, that killing me was a practical choice. I wonder what they would think if they met me. 

Leah made her appointment. Drove to the clinic. Walked in the door. Went into the room. Lay down on the table. Jeremiah 29:11 says "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope." Me dying that day was not part of God's sovereign plan.  Leah later told my adoptive parents what happened. 

As she was lying there on that table, waiting for the doctor to go to work she heard God speak to her. He told her "No, you can't do this." She sat up, walked out, and never looked back. 

My adoptive parents had been trying to adopt a child for 7 years. They had almost given up hope. But at the perfect time, God brought Leah to them through a private adoption agency. My parents were ready to quit and Leah was alone in the world. God was bigger and His plan larger than the pain they were feeling at the time. Despite Leah's drug relapse right before my birth, I popped out, a healthy baby girl.

Sometimes, I wish I could meet Leah. I want to thank her. I was inconvenient, I brought her suffering, but she, by God's grace, gave me life.

I don't know where you are in your life. I don't know your story. 

You might be an grown adult. I encourage you, vote for life. Do not support any legal measure that gives women the ability to kill their own children. 
If you are a parent, whose daughter has made a mistake, encourage her. Give her the support she needs to continue in her pregnancy and help her make a decision between keeping and raising the child or giving him up for adoption. 


Leah never even told her parents about me. She knew she would receive only judgment and anger from them.  Never tell your daughter that ego or other people's opinion is more important than her baby's life. 

If you are a young man who has become a father, be a father. Don't act like Leah's boyfriend, who was so important to himself that he encouraged her to make a choice between his convenience and my life. 

If you have a close friend who is pregnant with an unwanted baby, let them know that you and God love that baby. Offer whatever aid the mother might need. Tell her about her options. Be available to drive her to a counseling center or to a doctor. Do not gossip about her. 

Finally, if you are a woman who is pregnant with a baby you don't want, who will inconvenience you, or you can't take care of, you have options. Thousands of couples can not have their own children and must wait for years before they can adopt. You can legally leave your baby on the door step of a Fire Department and they will find a home for him. 

My mother chose life. I admire and love her for it. My life has been a continual road of blessing after blessing heaped upon me. Jeremiah 29 doesn't stop at verse 11 but continues with, "Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart." God has revealed himself to me and I have found Him. There is no greater joy. Your baby has the right to that as well. 


I don't enjoy sharing this. It is personal. But I don't think God's miracles are meant to be kept secret. I hope and pray that my story may change some people's minds. 


"Open your mouth for the speechless, in the cause of all who are appointed to die. Open your mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy." -Proverbs 31: 8-9

If you would like to read more please visit these websites: 

  1. www.abort73.com
  2. www.abortionno.org
  3. www.heartchanger.com
  4. www.180movie.com 
Please comment if you know of anymore websites that would be helpful or have any questions.