Wait. I’ll take that beautiful mess.

Human beings are all beautiful messes. Each person you encounter is unique and interesting in their own way. Every human being you meet may not inspire you to greatness but everyone ought to have the chance to try. To be somebody. To create something, to care for someone else, to dream big, to fall hard, to wrestle with God, to be trapped in a bear hug, to carry a broken heart, to live.

If you’re carrying a fertilized egg in your body, you’re carrying a life. And, in a few months, you can carry him/her in your arms. Granted, they may be ferociously screaming  (it’s way comfier inside your womb FYI) but, in time, they’ll get over it. They’ll wrap their hand around your finger with startling strength, focus their eyes on your face, roll over and cry in confusion as they take in an “upside down” world. They’ll rudely interrupt everything you thought you ever knew about life, without apology. They’ll make you laugh, cry, shout, whisper, laugh harder, and lose an ungodly amount of sleep.

From what I can tell this life is covered in spit-up and poop, encrusted with cheerio crumbs and boogers, and yet by some miracle you still find yourself kissing them, snuggling them close, and praying for more chances to tuck them in with their tonka truck or tea set. It’s a life that is defined by little moments. Like when they look at you and say with absolute confidence and exclusivity: “Mama!”  Finally! It’s not the guy in the produce aisle, the woman at the drive-thru, the dog, the pediatrician’s receptionist, and the car parked next to you… it’s YOU. Only you. “Mama.”

If you’re a young woman with an unwanted pregnancy I will not pretend like I “get it.” I’ve never been there and I am not going to speak as if I have been. However, I do know couples who would give anything for that whirlwind world of skinned knees and time-outs but for whatever reason, they find themselves staring at a negative pregnancy test… again.

So, if you’re unexpectedly pregnant and searching for help know this: I’m not here to browbeat you with statistics, shame you with images, or scare you with consequences. I’m sure you’ve heard it all.  Just know that there are other options for you that are affordable and readily available and I sincerely encourage you to be informed about them before choosing to have an abortion.

God has clearly given you the ability to create life but it takes nurturing, sweat, tears, laughter, and pain to give life. And someone wants to do that for your baby. Right now. I guarantee it. They want to give them life. They want to help them make their mark in a world full of other beautiful messes.

I know this probably wasn’t in your grand scheme of things. A baby? Now? No way! But it isn’t a mistake you need to erase, it isn’t “punishment” for having sex outside of marriage and it isn’t even a responsibility you need to carry past birth if you aren’t ready. This life was planned. By the same God who knit you into your own mother’s womb. It’s a gift. You’re a gift. I know I’m asking you to carry a baby for 9 months, to endure morning sickness, to potentially swell to epic proportions, to waddle to work or school, to endure criticism from hypocrites like me who say they care but habitually judge, and even fight your way through labor. I’m not pretending this is a “no big deal” decision. It’s a huge decision and I’m asking a lot.

My husband and I don’t have any kids but, Lord-wiling we’ll have them one day. There’s always the chance of one of us being infertile and we’ve already decided, fertile or not, we’re going to adopt. And there are thousands of couples like us. If you do not want the responsibility of being a mom, I understand. But before you go through with an abortion please know that I (and many others) would look you in the face if we could and say, “Wait. I’ll take that beautiful mess.” No condemnation, no accusations.

Why? I guess it’s because I was adopted. I was sprinting to my grave, covered in my own filth when Jesus Christ, the son of the Living God, saw me, came down to meet me, died for me on a cross that was meant for me, and stopped me in my tracks. “Wait,” He said to His holy Father who had every right to condemn me in my filth, “I’ll take that beautiful mess.” And now I’m a redeemed member of God’s family. He gave me life — abundant, intoxicating, everlasting life.

And, in whatever small way I can, I want to pass it on.

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