The Hungry Soul.

On August 14, 1990, my mother took a pregnancy test.

It was positive. It was ME that made that test positive.

She cried off and on all day. My dad was furious.

The timing couldn't have been worse. She had just gotten married in March and was already completely miserable. Her and my dad talked about getting a divorce literally five days beforehand.

How do I know all of this from over twenty years ago?

Because my mom's daily (she wrote a paragraph about what happened in her life...every. single. day. for a least a year) journal from 1990 was given to me by my half-sister a while ago; it came from my dad's house, and we got all the stuff out of it the weekend before the tornado hit on April 27, 2011. Providential grace if you ask me.

And I just opened this journal for the first time and read it cover to cover. It was completely fascinating and very emotional. I haven't used this blog in over two years, but I needed a place to process, to make my thoughts known aloud, whether anyone reads it or not, I don't care.

On September 12, 1990, my mother made an appointment at the abortion clinic.

My father did NOT want a child. I don't think my mother really did either. Their situation was so complicated, so messy. They both were nurses in Birmingham and worked crazy night shifts. They both ate tons of fast food and watched two movies a night. My dad smoked pot randomly. They fought all the time. They both cared about things that, in my opinion, were really meaningless.  [I say this because of the way this journal is written. She writes about going to get gas at 3:30pm and saving $120 on an oriental lamp at the Galleria. It's very strange how the journal contains little personal feelings and emotions like most do; it's like a thorough list of everything that happened and the things that do happen aren't exciting enough to write about. But I digress.]

September 22. The appointment date. Reading it makes me cry. My mother couldn't stop crying; she felt horrible about what she was doing. But wow, how the Lord works! Because there was a counselor there that day that told her she didn't have to go through with it if she didn't want to. That the Lord used to give ME life. That gave her the courage to walk out and leave the clinic, and eventually, leave my dad. And the courage to have me.

And here I am today typing this, a living, breathing person with thoughts and opinions and passions and loves and JOY. I am no longer just a nameless child in someone's tummy, a plus sign on a pregnancy test. I'm Tara! And there is so much to me. And no one would have ever known me had the Lord not intervened against my dad's wishes. It's crazy. Absolutely crazy. I feel so blessed to have a heart beat, to be sitting here, to be typing this.

It's so hard to read this journal because my mom seems exactly the same, twenty-four years later. She still cares about the same things she cared about then, just in a different city with different people around her. It's terrifying to me. I fear more than ever to wake up twenty years from now exactly the same. [She has grown spiritually and matured more than I give her credit for, but I see so much similarity in how she was then to how I know her now.]

I also fear the dreaded "d" word that my parents went through, an absolutely horrible life-shattering event that still hurts people years later. I know that right now, life with Will is easy. We both love each other so naturally. He has such a beautiful spirit of patience and love and grace toward me that I have never encountered except in my relationship with the Lord. But things will get hard. The things that seem so easy now will start to become more difficult, so they say. It takes work and selflessness and grace and JESUS to make a marriage succeed.

And this is where I have hope.

The Lord has been so good to me, given such undeservedly love to me that I'm wretchedly unworthy of. He WANTS me to exist on this earth. Therefore I exist. He wanted me to go to Alabama and meet the most incredible friends. And that's what happened. He wanted me to meet the most incredible man and fall in love and marry him. So we did. He wanted me to get into UAB and go to physical therapy school; I'm assuming He wants me to be a physical therapist and grow in my love and obedience to Him. All of these things have gone according to HIS plan, not anyone else's. He wants me to make an impact on this earth and not be a forgotten, nameless baby in someone's tummy.

And if you are reading this, I know He wants the same for YOU. You are so loved. Christ gave up everything for you, so you didn't have to suffer eternity separated from the Lord. He has saved all of us from death. Isn't that incredible? It's so beautiful.

We are no longer unwanted; He has given us worth. We are no longer outcasts and unknown; He has named us and calls us HIS children. We are fully, completely loved and known by Him. We are redeemed and treated as sons and daughters. We are not orphans; we are given the full inheritance that we don't deserve.


[I hope you don't judge my parents too harshly in the way I write about them; they were/are great people. And we all are so broken without the Lord.]

My dad passed away from a heart attack on November 4, 2010. He was 54. Our lives are but mists of vapor for only a time, and then we are gone from this earth.

If you are thinking about getting an abortion, I pray you talk to the Lord about it before you decide. And if you have never talked to the Lord, it's worth giving a try. Without Him, we ARE lost, endless wanderers with no direction or purpose. I'm so thankful for His incredible grace.

"Let them thank the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to the children of man! For He satisfies the longing soul; and the hungry soul He fills with good things." 
- Psalm 107:8-9