On this special day, I want to share a story I wrote last year for my bride’s 40th birthday celebration.
Forty years ago, a very courageous woman chose not to abort her baby.
Unlike many unwed mothers, this woman had been previously married. She had born sons and daughters. She had helped to raise a family. But now in her forties she found herself divorced and with child—the fruit of a brief immoral relationship.
If she was like other unwed mothers facing the challenges and stigma of an unplanned and unwanted pregnancy, she probably suffered from fear and disappointment. And I can only imagine the pressure she felt to try to erase the embarrassment, to end the physical discomfort, and to avert the potential shame and rejection she would experience as she faced her own legitimate children and extended family with the news that their mother had conceived a child with a married man.
In those days, abortion had yet to be legalized in America—that would come five years later. But even in 1967, it was readily available. It was the quick fix of choice for any and all who wanted to run from life.
Perhaps it was because she had already experienced the power of motherhood. Perhaps it was because she understood that abortion is the merciless shedding of innocent blood. But whatever the conscious reason for her decision, I know that behind the stated reason for her decision is the remarkable grace of God.
And by God’s grace, this courageous woman did not give in to her fears. On what may have been the most important decision of her life, she chose wisely. She determined that she could not kill her unborn child. She chose life.
Then, on October 6, 1967, a little baby came into the world.
Shortly after her birth, the little baby would be given to a woman whose name is now lost to history, but who would rock and nurse the little baby for six weeks until she was placed in the loving arms of a caring, adoptive family.
As a child, the little baby whose mother chose life would hear the stories of how Baby Brown Eyes was given to Daddy Blue Eyes and Mommy Green Eyes by a loving God who sets the solitary in families.
She heard these stories and many others. And the little baby whose life was spared grew. She grew into a woman, and one-day God gave her a baby of her own—and then eight others, including one whose soul was taken to live in eternity.
That little baby would grow up to minister to unwed mothers. She would encourage untold numbers of adopted children to be grateful, content, and rejoicing in their circumstances because of the beautiful picture of spiritual adoption represented by their special, God-ordained placement in the homes of families that longed for them.
In fact, the little baby whose mother chose life would become a thriving woman—a beautiful Christian lady with a heart full of gratitude. And this dear lady would fill her years to the brim with such overflowing life and love, that this one soul would profoundly touch the lives of men, women, and children, influencing thousands with the message of the beauty of Christian womanhood, the blessing of the fruit of the womb, and the hope which is only found in God, the One true giver of life.
And that lady is my wife.
I was only two years old when a courageous woman chose not to abort the baby who would become Elizabeth Beall Phillips. And now for the fortieth birthday of my beloved esposita I want to give praise to the Lord Jesus Christ for His mercies in crafting and giving to me a remarkable woman who knows from the depth of her soul that life is God’s precious gift, and that, but for His amazing grace, she would have been one of the forty million American babies who never survived the bloody dagger of the abortionist.
And I want to thank God for the grace that He placed in the heart of a scared, but courageous woman who chose life.
Because she chose life, other babies have been born—some of whom would have been yet another horrifying abortion statistic had not their unwed mothers heard a message of hope from a Christian lady who was once a baby to an unwed mother herself.
Because this woman chose life forty years ago, I have enjoyed fifteen years of the happiest marriage for which a man could hope.
Because she chose life, I am surrounded each morning by eighteen loving arms—and I daily enjoy the kisses of nine precious sets of lips.
Because she chose life, hundreds (perhaps thousands) of daughters, wives, and mothers have been touched, encouraged, and given hope by the ministry of the very baby she gave life and then gave up. Because she chose life, there are souls who have been led to Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior and now enjoy the promise of eternal life.
Because she chose life, I have learned what it means to be deeply and desperately loved by a woman. I have experienced the joy of being a man whose wife delights in being a helpmeet suitable for me. I have drunk deeply from the font of happiness that comes to those who are blessed with life-mates who radiate contentedness.
But for a woman who chose life, none of these pictures could have ever been taken.
Just before her death, the birth mother of Elizabeth Beall Phillips corresponded with the daughter she had never known. From the little baby she had only held in her arms for moments, this woman heard about the love of Christ. She discovered that the once little baby had prayed for her year after year. And she found out that the baby she had birthed became a contented adoptive daughter who never doubted the goodness of God in placing her in a new home and who enjoyed the happiness which comes from being loved.
I never met the woman who gave birth to my beloved. And I never will.
But because she chose life, I am a happy man.
On behalf of grateful children and husbands everywhere who daily enjoy the blessings which came from the fruit of sorrowing mothers who chose life and the adoptive parents who gave homes to lost babies, I give praise to the Lord Jesus Christ, and I thank you, Clarice, for choosing life.
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