Finding God in the Midst of Hurts

I have a number of devotional books that I use on a regular basis. One of my all-time favorites is My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers. A second, new-to-me devotional is Echoes of Eternity by Hal M. Helms. Both of these books have challenged me, ministered to me, stretched my faith, and comforted me during times of deep hurts, attacks of the enemy, and even in times of refreshing.

It amazes me how frequently it happens that I pick up one of these devotional books and find the thing that meets me exactly where I am. Yesterday was one of those days.

I had just been talking with my husband about an issue I am struggling with.... It goes something like this:

We moved to Colorado just over two and a half years ago. As always, I am who I am no matter where I go. When I'm accompanying my husband on a business trip or at a meeting, I am his wife and the mother of his children, first. Very often, however, someone will ask what I do (as a vocation) and the topic of conversation will turn to my work in abortion recovery. I have never tried to hide what I do, and God has always been faithful to provide an opportunity to minister to someone or connect me with others who know as I do that abortion hurts everyone it touches.

Everywhere else, people discover when they meet me (or shortly after) that I am, as my husband calls me, "the abortion lady." I am the one who lives and moves and breathes abortion recovery language wherever I go.

So it was no secret when we moved to our current town that I was the "abortion lady." I set up my office in town and began making connections with pregnancy centers and others in abortion recovery. My goal was to network with others, to build friendships and working relationships with others in our area who also care about the abortion-wounded.

I extended the hand of friendship, however I was met with suspicion, accusation, and mistrust at the worst, and disinterest and a cold shoulder at the least. Color me perplexed, shocked ... and hurt.
When I told one A/R facilitator at a PRC about my intent to build an abortion recovery center she immediately bristled and told me in no uncertain terms she "could not get behind that."

When I offered a training featuring one of my national abortion recovery colleagues, I was asked point blank (by the same woman), accusingly, I might add, to whom was I accountable?

When I offered my services to a local PRC as a volunteer, I was treated as a pariah. I came to them as any other volunteer. I submitted to their authority, I followed their rules, I went through their training, and I only discussed my own ministry when asked. Yet when I asked for permission to place post-abortion stress symptoms cards in the counseling rooms for the benefit of the counselors to use with post-aborted clients the answer was no. There was no reason given; no discussion. Again I submitted without complaint.

When I opened our abortion recovery center, I was accused (by this same PRC) of horrible things, not the least of which was my ability to minister to the abortion-wounded.

I suppose I should not have been surprised by the absence of a "welcome wagon" but to be treated so harshly at the hands of other brothers and sisters in Christ who are committed to the same area of ministry has left me emotionally bruised.

I understand the need to "prove" myself as the "new kid on the block" - but somehow these behaviors let me know without a doubt I am not welcome here.

[Now to be fair, there were a small number of women who "tested" me in godly ways and then did indeed extend the hand of friendship. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for these women!]

Enter Hal M. Helms and Echoes of Eternity yesterday.

The scripture referenced was Ephesians 4:32. The beauty of this devotional is the way Mr. Helms speaks to the reader as in the voice of God. Following are some of the comments (in paraphrase) that met me where I was in regard to these hurtful encounters: