In the ensuing weeks the fight for Ireland's soul became evident. It seemed to me this beautiful country of theirs had always been a champion of babies and their moms and that this fact would not change. I prayed, but did I pray enough? Did I assume too much? Did I believe that because so many of us here in the states are fighting to defund Planned Parenthood, because women and children deserve so much more, that no one in their right mind would again vote to kill children?
A friend told gave me a good definition of fear. F.E.A.R ~ false evidence appearing real. Fear, one of the greatest tools of the devil. Bad decisions are made in fear. Bad decisions are kept secret in fear. And those bad decisions effect every aspect of our lives whether we realize it or not. I know fear a bit too well, but now I'm calling it out. Those of us who have fearfully made the decision to end a child's life, who have lived in fear and hidden in fear need to come out of our dark hiding places and walk in the light of truth. We need to be a candle in the dark, and call out to others that live with the pain of abortion. I know it's painful. But living in fear is excruciating. I would spare everyone the pain I have known but to do that I need to cast off the lies and step into the light, to make my voice heard. My voice, along with others will gradually become a trembling battle cry for those whose anguished cry is being silenced, a cry that will shake the earth and rattle prideful nations.
Oh Ireland, I weep for you. I cry for you and your children, as I have cried over my own. But I will not despair. I may have assumed this insane battle over the right to kill children was slowly coming to its senses, and maybe it very slowly is, but the battle is not over, I've just come into it when the fighting is at a fevered pitch. I will fight, and pray. I'll no longer hide in the shadows of fear.
This past January, my son had a short film released that was viewed in at least seven different countries (including Ireland...apparently they weren't watching). It's about God's abundant mercy and I was so thankful that I (Maggie Bishop in the film) was able to give a short bit of my witness to His great love and forgiveness to me. The film is 'Mercy: Discovering God's Love' and you can view it here.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mut3lQQFUQs.
Lastly, I offer you a poem I wrote after receiving an outpouring of God's love and mercy to me. After years of reflection on the pain that I lived with, I knew that under no circumstances would I ever again end the life of a child, not even to save my own. This best expressed what I know to be true. I didn't experience every reason that women are fearfully pressured into aborting their children, but I contemplated every one of them.
The New Crucified
I see you in the garden of my womb,
Deep in prayer. What is this eternal
Exchange with the Creator? Your tabernacle
Should be the safest place in the world,
Not Gethsemane.
Fear not little one, I will keep you safe.
But your fear is not for yourself. For your
Brothers…sisters…their gardens are fearful.
Let this cup pass from me
This is their prayer.
This silent abode gives way to voices
Angry, fearful, seeking someone, anyone to blame.
Is there any suffering like my suffering?
My people, what have I done to you? How have I offended you? Answer me!
Someone must carry the burden,
Pay the price for this great offense.
How could this happen, this colossal holocaust?
Was The once and for all innocence shed not enough to
Satisfy? How many have cried…
Upon you was I cast from my birth,
And since my mother bore me you have been my God.
Be not far from me,
For trouble is near
And there is none to help.
Many bulls encompass me,
Strong bulls of Bashan surround me;
They open wide their mouths at me,
Like a ravening and roaring lion.
I am poured out like water,
And all my bones are out of joint;
My heart is like wax,
It is melting within my breast;
My strength is dried up like a potsherd,
And my tongue cleaves to my jaws;
You lay me in the dust of death.
Yes, dogs are round about me;
A company of evildoers encircle me;
They have pierced my hands and my feet-
I can count all my bones-
They stare and gloat over me…
Rape! Incest! Again the agonizing cry
My people, what have I done to you? How have I offended you?
Innocent blood shed again and again in
Unending sacrifice. Assaulted and violated
Mother and child
Never allowed to grieve from the silent cell of the soul,
Sin giving way to sin to cover the deed.
Cry out for mercy! Confession gives way to
Heal. There is an ocean of mercy.
Father, forgive them. They know not what they do.
Give voice to the silenced, the oppressed
Mother and child.
Little Christs, they can do nothing but love you
Eternally.
Vengeance is not theirs.
Always with their Brother before them they pray,
Having offered the supreme sacrifice for your soul.
Each timeless moment the offering is made in
Heaven and earth.
The new Gethsemane, The new In Persona Christi.
Mercy…Mercy…Mercy…
Hear the soothing balm of the Father
My child, I want you healed of this.
May God grant us this grace
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