By Maureen Miller
“I think I’m—” Overcome with emotion, my voice broke before I managed, “pregnant.”
My 17-year-old boyfriend released my hand, then raked fingers through his hair. The quiet space between us was weighty, my words seeming to work their way to cognition. After a beat of silence, Bill’s one-word response: “No.”
That was four decades ago. In the ensuing days, my suspicion having been shared, the word “abortion” was uttered more than I’d ever heard or said it before.
“It’s the only answer,” I was told by a well-meaning person, someone I loved and trusted and knew to be a Christian professing a biblical worldview. Bill and I went back and forth with this notion, both of us believing abortion wrong but fearing what a baby would mean for our relationship. Our future.
When one thinks something life-altering has happened—something about which she’s proclaimed, “Never me!”—she’s prone to ponder what she otherwise wouldn’t, coming face to face with her hypocrisy, her condemnation. Yes, her sin.
And though I wasn’t pregnant, this pivotal moment in our past shaped our worldview in powerful, transformative ways.
Grappling for Truth
Though a teenager when I faced the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy, I’d already walked with Jesus many years and had made a commitment of sexual purity. Still, that proved difficult when, in junior high, I began dating Bill. “And besides, we’re gonna get married,” we justified, believing this to be true. And it was.
We married young, then faced infertility, something I once believed was the curse of our youthful transgressions—not merely premarital sex but our having considered abortion. This experience brought me, time and time again, to a figurative mirror—begging me to take a good, long look at inconsistencies in my life. How I’d judged others in similar situations.
How I could, for the sake of convenience, consider taking the life of a child? As God’s Word affirms, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am wonderfully and fearfully made” (Psalm 139:13–14 NIV).
Honestly, I didn’t often like my reflection. But, as God worked on my heart—softening it, creating contrition, with mercy and grace—I learned valuable lessons.
Uncovering Our Answer
Were we pro-life? That question niggled, begging for an answer. I’d always thought so, but—truth was, we were.
After all, by the time I really wrestled with this, we’d been married for several years, had matured in more ways than mere age. We’d grown in our faith, and with this spiritual maturity came a desire to know and act upon the things that please God. We believed—still believe—life begins at conception, even when an embryo is a minuscule clump of cells.
Why? It’s how we interpret God’s Word—our anchor, our comfort. Indeed, our standard for life, that which shapes our worldview.
But we’ve come to believe there’s more to being prolife than simply paying lip service. It’s putting action to words—like supporting pro-life organizations, yes, but what else?
What about: volunteering at a crisis pregnancy center?
Offering to support birth moms—those women, despite difficult circumstances, who choose to carry to term, and often place babies with loving families? Fostering? Adopting?
Truth is, we haven’t done this perfectly, but Bill and I are learning. We still stand at the mirror of truth and ask, “Are we living what we say we believe according to God’s Word?” When the Lord brings to our attention a discrepancy, we prayerfully consider change.
More, he reminds us—it’s not our job to judge others but, rather, to pray for them. And what do we firmly believe? Life is precious, and true love—God’s love—is eternal. We’ll spend our remaining days aiming to live—and love—this out, in both words and actions. And maybe, we’ll change— even help save—some lives along the way.
Maureen Miller is a wife, mother, and grandmother who writes about faith, family, and the transformative power of God’s grace in everyday life.
