A Little Boy’s Voice (Pt. 6)

Because I’d never had an ultrasound, I didn’t know the gender of any of the children I aborted, so don’t ask me how I knew this; I can’t tell you. But somehow I knew in my heart that the voice I had just heard belonged to my son. He would have been my firstborn.

Now, on the beach, I understood why God had wanted me to hear the radio broadcast of “Tilly,” and why he had spoken to me in the voice of my unborn child for the second time. He had already forgiven me, but he wanted to begin a healing process in me.

I remember hearing a preacher say once that God does things in the heavenly realm that there are no earthly words to describe. I believe that with God, all things are possible. Whatever it takes for you to be healed, that’s what he will do for you. That’s what it took for me. I needed to hear that voice. Needed that reassurance. Continue reading

Florida Abortion Clinic Offers Sunday Discounts

A controversial abortion clinic in Orlando, Florida has started offering a discount to women who come in Sundays to kill their babies via abortion.

The Orlando Women’s Center, which was shut down in June after their former head physician failed to settle a $36 million medical malpractice lawsuit, is offering multiple deals on their website. The clinic had their equipment seized in June in connection to the debts of Dr. James Pendergraft. Continue reading

A Little Boy’s Voice (Pt. 5)

I had rented a beautiful little cabin in the mountains and really enjoyed the solitude it afforded. One night I couldn’t sleep. So I got up and turned on the television. I flipped through the channels until I found a Christian program. It was The 700 Club. Pat Robertson was talking about abortion. The topic made me a little uneasy, but I didn’t change the station.

That night The 700 Club aired a video called The Silent Scream. This pro-life documentary was narrated by Dr. Bernard Nathanson, a former abortionist, and included live film footage of a suction abortion. For the first time I saw pictures of exactly what I had done. I was horrified, but I could not tear my eyes away from the screen. Continue reading

A Little Boy’s Voice (Pt. 4)

Sunglasses could not hide the tears streaming down my face, and I was glad the beach was not crowded that day. I walked toward the water, oblivious to the warm ocean breeze or the strident call of the seagulls. My shoulders slumped under the weight of the reality that now settled on me. Dear God, what have I done? My feet were leaden, my legs would no longer hold me. I sank to my knees in the hot sand, completely devastated. I murdered my children!

A man and a woman passed by me and discarded the remains of their picnic lunch into one of the large trash bins dotting the beach. It occurred to me that I had thrown my children away, almost as unthinkingly as they tossed their soda cans in the garbage. I had killed my babies to keep my husband. A husband I wound up losing anyway. A husband who had betrayed me and abused me, again and again. Continue reading

A Little Boy’s Voice (Pt. 3)

Babies? I had steeled myself not to think of them that way. Planned Parenthood had said they were blobs of tissue. I knew better, of course—at least on some level. But that’s the only way I could live with myself, to think of them as “problem pregnancies,” the flotsam and jetsam of an untimely conception, not as babies.

Heaven? Until that moment, I had vaguely thought of them as formless blobs out there in the universe somewhere. Were they really babies, really in heaven, as Melissa had just said? Continue reading

A Little Boy’s Voice (Pt. 2)

The broadcast that day by Focus on the Family was called “Tilly.” The skillful blend of voices and music and sound effects captivated me, and I was quickly lost in the story.

I identified with the character named Kathy, a depressed woman who has a dream populated with lots of children. She discovers something different about these children: they have no names and no parents, and they don’t know where they came from. The ethereal background music clued the listener that these children were actually in heaven. I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I tried to keep my emotions in check. Continue reading

A Little Boy’s Voice (Pt. 1)

Jim and I are almost ready to begin a ministry that is a part of my destiny in serving the Lord Jesus.  “Lori’s House” is being built to help save babies who might otherwise be aborted if young women could not see a way to navigate through the circumstances of life dealing with an untimely pregnancy.  We are also focusing on ministry to post-abortive women.

I was just 17 years old when I had my first abortion, and just 21 when the last of 5 consecutive abortions left me unable to ever have a child. Continue reading