Fifty Years Ago – A Choice

Fifty Years Ago – A Choice                        



It was March 1970—fifty years ago.

A young engaged couple sat across the desk from a doctor and heard the words, “Yes, you are pregnant.”   
Neither remembered another word he said from that point on, but he had confirmed their fear. 

Few words were spoken on the long drive back. For the sake of anonymity, the doctor visit took place in a city a couple of hours drive from their own town. 


That evening the troubled couple followed through with plans to attend a college basketball game with friends, a married couple they had recently come to know. Knowing the dilemma at hand, the wife, Tonya (not her real name) tried to give comfort and assistance. 


“I know where you can get an abortion if that’s what you want to do,” she said. 


After all, the pregnant one had just spoken of the dread of having to tell her parents. She knew her mom and dad would be saddened by her behavior and disappointed in her. She also knew they would be embarrassed when they had to face friends and family members. And what would the people at church think? Both of her parents were Sunday School teachers.


In addition, she, herself, would need to face that same embarrassment and humiliation. And besides, having a baby now would interfere with college. She was on the down-hill slide of her second year. 


An abortion would eliminate all those uncomfortable and inconvenient scenarios.


But then she asked herself, “what exactly is an abortion?” Her mind was racing.


Tightening her clasped hands, she turned her face to her fiancé and said, “Would you want to kill our baby?” 


She stared into his face.  
   

“I want to do whatever you want to do,” was his reply. 


Her mind seemed like a racetrack with cars speeding in every direction. Then she saw the image of a tiny form growing in her belly. A tear slid down her cheek—and then another one. 


“We’re not going to kill our baby,” she announced. 

L to R: Guy, Connie, Neil, Shannon - 1995

A few months later, our son, Shannon, was born and I became a mother. He was perfect and wonderful. 

Less than two years later his little brother, Neil, was born. He too was perfect and wonderful and has given us four terrific grandchildren. 

The thought that an abortion might have taken place is nightmarish. There would have been no Shannon and possibly no Neil either, because having an abortion can cause damage that leaves a woman unable to ever have children. 



                  
                                                                                                

Our eight grandchildren - Photo by Allison Laster

That baby that we decided not to kill has grown into a wonderful God-fearing man. Throughout his life he has brought great joy to many people, especially his parents. 

He was such a fun little boy and a high achiever and leader in high school. With great pride we watched him graduate from the US Naval Academy. He then served our country for twenty years as an aviator in the Navy and Air Force. 

He has given us four fantastic grandchildren who are now teenagers. After retiring from the military, he and his wife have settled in our hometown to finish raising their children. 

Our eight grandchildren - Photo by Allison Laster - 2009

He is currently flourishing as a teacher of physics and algebra at his high school alma mater. He loves his students and though he’s tough they love him back because they know he cares. As a swim coach he encourages and enriches the lives of many youth. 

Thank God we did not kill our baby. Through the years we and many others have benefited immeasurably from our decision—a decision on that March night in 1970, bore life or death consequences. We chose life. 


I know some women who did not choose life for their babies and I know that God has stored up all their tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8) and He does not love them any less because of their actions. For all of us, He offers total forgiveness for all our sins if we will believe in and receive Jesus. When we receive Christ, He removes our sins as far as the east is from the west. Our sins are gone—they exist no longer in God’s eyes. 


I've committed many sins in my life and I’m beyond grateful for God’s amazing grace, unfailing love, and forever forgiveness. Thank you, Jesus!


Pleases pray with me. Holy God, You know everything about me, including every sin I’ve ever committed. Thank you for loving me in spite of it all, and for sending Your Son, Jesus, to take the punishment I deserved. Please help me, Oh God, to forgive myself. In Jesus name I pray—Amen. 


Your comments are welcome.

©Copyright 2020 Connie Wohlford

A Thanksgiving Like No Other

A Thanksgiving Like No Other

Have you experienced a Thanksgiving like no other? 

If so, was it a positive or negative thing that made it different?

Our family has historically been traditional when it comes to major holidays. Basically, the same setting, same menu, and mostly the same people. 

Several years ago, our Thanksgiving celebration was completely turned on it’s head. Plans were underway. The menu was set. Our college sons were confirming their expected arrival times. The countdown was trotting along according to plan … until we got the call. My father was in the emergency room—suspected heart attack. 

Daddy was the long-established patriarch of the clan—even to many of our cousins’ families. At first, we believed this to be a hiccup in a week that was full and bubbling with anticipation. Not so.  

Doctors confirmed—Daddy had had a heart attack. My mom, brother, husband and I gathered at the hospital consulting with doctors, as they calculated the seriousness of Daddy’s condition. It was determined needed to be transported to a heart center about forty-five miles away.

His condition was stable so the doctor suggested we all go home for the night while he was transferred and checked in. Next morning my brother took Mamma to be with Daddy and I went to school to teach my seventh and eighth graders, planning to head for the hospital at the end of the school day. 

Mid-morning, our assistant principal pulled me out of my classroom to inform me that Daddy had another heart attack and wasn’t doing well.

As quickly as possible I drove to the hospital, praying all the way. I arrived to find Daddy in good spirits, joking with the nurse, but was informed he had experienced multiple heart attacks. He was in a holding pattern, awaiting an ambulance to take him to the main heart center a few blocks away. They had not had room for him the night before. 

The nurse told me they were waiting for an ambulance which was about forty minutes out. I could see the concern on her face and found it hard to believe we were in ICU waiting for an ambulance. Others of our family had gone ahead to the Heart Center.

I looked at Daddy, then the nurse, who was not leaving his side. I prayed. Then I said to the nurse, “Call 911.” 

Can you imagine? We’re in the ICU of a large hospital and the nurse is calling 911. It worked.

Within five minutes they were loading Daddy into an ambulance. The team of doctors and operating room at the heart center were ready and waiting for his arrival. 

By the time I got there his open-heart surgery was underway. I and several other family members waited and waited. Into the evening, the surgery ended and a couple of us at a time were allowed to see him briefly. What a huge relief that he made it through, but was now in a fragile state of recovery.

In a quiet darkened waiting room my mother, brother, a niece, and one of my sons reclined as best we could on chairs and couches, settled in for a long uncomfortable night. But none of us were interested in the restfulness of our own beds until we were confident our loved-one was out of the woods. 

During early morning rounds, Daddy’s surgeon settled our fears updating us that Daddy was in pretty good condition for all he had been through and that our vigil could end. What a magnificent Thanksgiving morning! God was saying, “Yes,” to our prayers. 

We each had another brief visit with Daddy and notified appropriate extended family members of his condition. With grateful hearts we put our heads together and plotted out our Thanksgiving Day plan. 

My brother’s former college roommate, Pete, had invited us to crash in his nearby apartment. I called my husband, Guy, who was on standby at home. The day before, he had arranged for a traditional Thanksgiving meal to be prepared by a local grocery store. He was to pick up the feast and head our way. 

We left Daddy in the capable care of specialists and gathered at Pete’s apartment to celebrate Thanksgiving. Turkey and all the fixins covered his table. My mother, my brother with his wife and three college age children, Pete with his two young adult sons, and Guy and I, with our two sons, encircled the table and clutched hands to pray. 

Around that circle I saw faces with moist eyes. We were unshowered, tired, and looked it. But there was a radiance we shared which was beyond explanation.

Who was going to pray? We stood there waiting, each one paralyzed with emotion. Finally, through his own emotion, Guy spoke up and offered up a prayer of gratitude for God’s love and goodness—for His tender care and provision—and most of all for giving Daddy a new lease on life. 

This was a Thanksgiving like no other. 

Daddy, with his namesake great-grandson

Daddy was seventy years old at the time of this experience. God graciously gave him eighteen more years and, except for the last couple of those years, he had exceptionally good health. He and Mamma experienced the joy of having a relationship with all eleven great-grandchildren, none of whom were born yet at the time of his heart attacks. We are a grateful family.

Have you experienced a Thanksgiving like no other? Please share in the comments below.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your loved-ones!

©Copyright 2018 Connie Wohlford