The Past Is Gone

You lock the doors and put the children to bed, but something keeps you at the door to their room, you stand watching them inhale and exhale and you admire their innocence. You do not notice when your husband walks up to you , neither do you realize your hands have been on your tummy until he asks you 

"Honey what are you thinking about? And why are you moving your hands gently over your belly?"

You are caught unawares, so you do not reply in time and he asks another question

 "Are you pregnant?"

"No!" You scream so sharply and so loudly, your children squeeze on their beds and your husband stares at you wide-eyed, clearly shocked at your overreaction to a simple question. You stare back at him and you wish you could tell him.

You wish you could tell him that today at church, the first-time guest who was welcomed was the ex you had told him about, who lived in the states.

You wish you could tell him that Mimi wasn't the first baby to be housed in your womb, that some where in Lekki river lies evidence of your murder of a child who didn't ask to be formed.

You wish you could tell him that every time you hear the words "abortion" and "pregnancy" , you see the face of that baby begging you to let him live, a night to the abortion.

The thoughts are now too painful, you can't control your emotions so you run to the bathroom and shut the door before the tears come pouring in torrents.

The picture of Emeka in church today, flashes through your mind and you form another picture- the picture of what your baby boy could have looked like.

It's been 15 years now so he would have been a teenager. You wipe the tears with the back of your hands, but you see blood on those hands, not clear liquid. At this point you know you've begun to hallucinate and your fears are confirmed when you look at the wall and see a screen, a child plays freely, laughing and running. You recognize that child... She is you.

You envy her, you wish you could sit her down and tell her what to do. Tell her that friends matter and choices have consequences, but something even more strange happens. You see her dragged into a bag by an older man. You can feel her struggling and hear her crying.

In a split of a second, another man comes along, he beats the kidnapper and frees her. But when she comes out of the bag, she becomes you; Fearful, teary and guilt-ridden. A total opposite of the child who had entered the bag.

You can't feel your legs and your eyes begin to close. Everywhere is dark but you can hear sound all around. One discussion catches your attention - it's Emeka's voice and he's telling your children a story. He seems to be concluding because he says

 " So every time I remember how bad I used to be, I love Jesus more, because the day I became born again, I became as innocent as a little child playing on the playground, free to laugh, love and dream. No fears, no guilt. Jesus has me"

Fresh tears flow down your cheeks, carrying with it the dirt of guilt and self condemnation. You feel peace. Yes you made a mistake. But now you're forgiven and free to enjoy life. You choose to accept it- Jesus died for your abortion, so you can be free to play again.. Laugh with the sun and dance in the rain of His grace.

The people around you must have noticed the tears and smiles curving on your lips. You hear Mimi scream

 "Doctor! My Mummy is awake"

(Dedicated to everyone struggling with deep guilt over a past sin.

Jesus died so you could live. So live. Breathe. Love. Give. The past is gone, make sure the present is spent in a way you'll love to remember when it becomes past too.)

                      💕

©#JournalOfaJesusGirl