Blog #Forgiveness

Founder of Grace Unfolded

Where faith comes alive, and hearts find encouragement.

These are Nancy's favorite scriptures...

Before you met your husband, you endured an abusive relationship that cost you a child and battled anxiety and depression—even contemplating taking your own life. During that season of your life, what were you feeling about yourself? 

Yes. So, in 2008, it's crazy to think that it was that long ago that my pain and suffering started. Right after high school, I dated a guy, and we were together for quite a while. I then uprooted and moved. I didn't speak to my family very much because we only had one car, and he worked, so I didn't have a way to see my parents. As a result, I became a stranger to them for a little over a year. We ended up getting pregnant, and I was eight months along. I was having a girl, and he decided he didn't love me anymore and didn't want the responsibility of being a father, so he pushed me down the stairs as I was carrying in groceries one night. Looking back on that time now, I see that God started working right away because the first officer on the scene looked at my driver's license and saw my maiden name, which was still my last name since I hadn't married. The officer happened to know my mom and proceeded to contact her and said, "Your daughter's on the way to the hospital. You need to come and be with her." My mom was confused and she said, "I don't know what you mean. I haven't talked to her in over a year. What's going on?" And he said, "Well, she probably lost a child. You need to come to the hospital." My parents helped me leave my boyfriend, and we pressed charges, and he served time. During that time, I felt broken and invisible, as if I would never be worthy of someone's love and be the mom I so desperately wanted to be—that's all I had ever dreamed of—having my own family and being a mom. I didn't know if I would ever be able to have kids again because it was such a traumatic loss, and honestly, I was scared to love again, but a few years later, I met my husband, and I saw that I could love again and have happiness. 

Before you met your husband, did you visit a church that a family friend had invited you to?

Yes. A family friend, who knew one of our relatives, asked us to visit a church because they were aware that I was struggling. And I went, and I fell in love with it. The pastor, who was leading the church at the time, instilled in me a hunger for a deeper understanding of God, which led to my baptism and becoming born again. I wanted to put my life back on track. Healing from my trauma took a while and was a process.

It was after you gave your life to Christ and were baptized that you started dating your husband.

Yes.

You were happily married for almost 9 years. What happened in mid-November? How did your life take a turn for the worse? 

In mid-November of 2024, I was at work just on a typical Monday morning. Then, suddenly, my phone started blowing up with text messages and phone calls. My neighbor was trying to find out what was going on at our house. We lived with my parents, and there were a dozen cop cars outside, and they had my dad outside in handcuffs. I panicked, like anybody would have. Then, my coworker informed me that my husband was outside and wanted to speak with me. I went out there and I said, "What is going on?" And my husband said, "I have a past that has caught up to me that I have kept from you." I will explain everything later after things settle down." So I went home because I was impatient. It was traumatic, and it was as though my life was flashing in front of my eyes, and I kept saying to myself, "What do I do? What's going on?" 

After the cops had left, my husband came back home, and I met him outside. And I remember I ran to him, screaming at him, and hitting him. I was mortified that he didn't tell me about his own past trauma and abuse. He opened up to me and told me that he didn't have a good childhood. And I could relate to him at that time because I had a hard time; it's not like my parents were abusive or anything, but I got harsher punishments as a child. For two days, my head was spinning. I didn't know what to do. I told my husband I needed to take a drive and clear my mind. I had nowhere particular to go—I just got in my car and drove, and I ended up in the parking lot of the church where we used to attend services and where we got married. Although no vehicles were in the parking lot, I decided to check if the doors were unlocked. They were, so I went inside the sanctuary and I prayed. Moments later, I heard someone say, "Hello." I barely turned myself from the pew, and the pastor said, "Nancy, is everything okay?" And, by the way, this is a different pastor from the one who married us. I had only met him once, two years prior, and he recognized me, calling me by name. It just gave me goosebumps because I know he's not Jesus, but he called me by name just like Jesus does. He asked me what had happened, and I told him everything, expecting him to turn me away. He didn't. Pastor Jake asked if there was anything he could do to help. And I told him, "We need God. We need to come back to church. I know my husband is sorry because I could see it in his eyes, but I need help coping with this." He read scriptures and prayed with me, and then he asked, "Would your husband meet with me?" And so I went home and I asked my husband, and he said, "Yes, I would like to meet with him." So then we met with Pastor Jake at his home, and my husband told him everything. 

Is there anything else that you would like to share? 

Finding forgiveness or finding the strength to forgive my husband was very difficult. Since November 2024, my husband and I have made significant progress. We initially strayed from God, but my husband and I have grown and strengthened our marriage. Are there times I am mad at him for what we are going through right now? Absolutely, I am. Will he resort to backwardness and head down the wrong path again? No, I don’t think he will. And the reason why is that he has asked me to forgive him a handful of times since this all started. I couldn’t forgive him at first, but one day, while looking back at our wedding photos, I was reminded of the vows I had said to my husband in front of God and our family, and that I would love, honor, and cherish my husband in good times and bad. Yes, we are currently going through a difficult time. My husband made a mistake, and he has accepted the consequences. God forgave him. He will only continue to be a man of God. We struggle daily because my family and others know what my husband’s sin was, and they refuse to have anything to do with us. However, our two children and I have a strong relationship with God, as well as with our pastor and others in our congregation, who have counseled and supported us. A powerful verse Pastor Jake shared with us when I was ready to fully forgive my husband was from Matthew 6:14—“For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.” It’s essential to remember that forgiveness, as seen in scriptures like Matthew 6:14, reminds us that since God forgives us, we must also offer forgiveness to those who have wronged us. And at that moment, I could finally truly forgive my husband for what he had done, and I was able to also forgive my past abuser for the child I lost. So from 2008 until 2024, I had not forgiven that man until then. It has helped me so much, and I feel stronger. I know in my heart that one day I’ll see my daughter, and I can’t wait to see her. Jesus loves us so much that He died on that cross so that when we repent and ask for forgiveness, we are forgiven. People, sadly, look at a sin and then they compare it to the next person and don’t take an honest look at themselves first. We need to take a closer look at ourselves rather than at another person, because we’re all sinners.

Now, both you and your husband are serving in the church, attending services consistently, praying, and staying in Scripture. How can such practices change a person's life? 

It can change it tremendously. I'll also address another question, as it is related to this one. Staying in the church and surrounding yourself with people of faith is crucial. I truly felt the presence of God in this situation. Approximately three months after our journey began, we met with Pastor Jake, as he had inquired about how things were going. He said, "What if we tell more people?" My husband was open to repenting to the elders of our church. We have 12 elders. They are the eyes and the ears of the church, and they can help try to keep things at bay, if you will, and help protect my husband and me. So, we met with the 12 elders, Pastor Jake, and Brian. Brian is a member of our church and a good friend of ours, to whom we also told the situation. And he has been just like Pastor Jake. We felt the Lord's presence that night because my husband confessed to 12 people that we had only known each other for three months. Pastor Jake told them, "We know it's a lot to take in. His past is a lot. We don't want you to react right now if you need the time." One elder stood up, went over to my husband, put his hand on his back, and said, "Brother, let us help carry your burden because guess what the good news is? You're forgiven. Let us help you and carry your cross." And at that moment, all the other elders stood up and surrounded my husband, praying over him.

I get goosebumps thinking about it because it was an amazing night, one that I will never forget. We're both now in the choir. My husband has led a couple of Bible studies, and I assist in teaching Sunday school. Our church has been a great support system. It keeps us on track and strengthens our faith and our relationship with God. We're with people who see us and who have forgiven us. God also brought people into our lives that I would have never thought possible. We went to Louisiana a couple of years ago and happened to meet my husband's friend's brother and his wife; she is now my best friend. Even from thousands of miles away, Jennifer and her husband, Marshall, have stood by us every step of the way. I also met two coworkers, as well as other women from our church or school. I found out that they are Christian women, and I've been able to open up to them and say, "Hey, I'm going through something. Can you pray with me? Can you help me out?" And they didn't ask for the reasoning because they already knew. And they said, "Nobody's perfect. Whatever you have going on, you don't need to tell us, but we're going to pray with you and help you in any way we can." It's been a blessing to see God bring people into my life whom He knew I needed, and it's been truly amazing to be a part of our church family. 

What encouragement would you give to someone watching who feels hopeless, broken, or far from God right now?

My encouragement is that my journey is long, and some days I fall short. I get angry, cry, and have even been diagnosed by my therapist with PTSD from my own past trauma. I still have flashbacks of what happened to me, but I know now that God has been with me the whole time. He has never left my side. I was lost for quite a few years, and so was my husband. It took a huge trial to pull us back to God. God used a difficult situation to teach us a lesson. A lesson I will never forget. One of the most extraordinary abilities God has given us is the ability to believe. When you believe, you ignite the promise of God, and the surpassing greatness of His power is released. When you believe, doors will open. You will defeat giants.

My husband and I have a long road ahead of us. However, we now have something we did not have at the beginning. We have faith and we believe in God. My hope and my testimony are this. To share my story and continue sharing it, I'm working on becoming a motivational speaker. I want to write a book eventually. That's why I started my website; I want to support others who feel alone and isolated, because I have been there many times in my life, and God has redeemed my story. No matter where you are in life, it is never too late to receive God's gift to us, and that is everlasting life with Him in heaven. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life." John 3:16. You can receive that beautiful gift. All you have to do is repent for your sins and ask Jesus into your life and heart. God redeemed my story, and He can redeem yours as well.

Nancy's Ministry Site & Social Media Platforms

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Nancy shared her testimony on...

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Pastor Mark Sowersby

These are Pastor Mark's favorite scriptures...

Pastor Mark, I read your book, Forgiving The Nightmare. It’s wonderfully written. You have a remarkable healing that God has given you, and in Forgiving The Nightmare, you describe the nightmare of abuse and suffering that you have gone through for years. Can you please share what happened in your childhood?  

I’d be honored to share it with you. And again, thank you so much. When I reached out to you, I just wanted to find places where I could lift up the name of Jesus and share the testimony of where God has brought me through. Throughout my whole testimony, I don’t have the answers, but God does. So, my testimony, unfortunately, is an ugly one because it deals with abuse and neglect. Far too many people share that same testimony. At the age of seven, my mom would marry a man 20 years her junior. He came into our home, and he would abuse me in every way, shape, and form. He would emotionally, physically, sexually, and verbally abuse me and take everything from me from the ages of 7 to 14. And all those years living through that experience, I was held down and held back and just trapped in fear, insecurity, and pain. I didn’t know any other way in those seven years. The pain was the atmosphere and oxygen that I lived in. All around me was the abuse. I didn’t know any other way. And at 14 years old, I didn’t understand why I was 14 and not 13 or 12, but something clicked inside me, and I fought back. I fought back in two ways. First of all, it was a physical way. Now, it wasn’t a Rocky Balboa moment or a Mike Tyson moment, but I pushed my attacker off me, and I fought back physically. Still, at the same time, I found somebody in my family who would stick up for me, somebody who was strong enough and who believed me. I went to this loved one, and I told them about what was happening. It was a different time, as I was part of the late 1970s and early 1980s generation. People didn’t talk about things like this, even when they were happening. You didn’t tell anybody anything or deal with it or talk about it, but it was the underbelly of many people’s stories. So, from 1977 to 1984, I was being abused. And I went to this loved one, and they protected me with their might, with their power, and with their spirit. And because of those two events, at 14, I can tell you the abuse ended. And it never came back. I was never physically abused again after being 14. The abuse stopped because of those who protected me. Now, I wish I could tell you that was the end of the story. And I could say, you know, after 14, everything was peaceful and easy, but it was just the beginning of Forgiving The Nightmare. 

How did you first come to know Christ, and how did you go from just surviving to beginning to thrive? 

Well, I found myself back at my mom’s house, and I was that kind of kid who never wanted to be home and outstayed my welcome—that kid for whom they set another plate for dinner. At the time, we were living in an apartment complex, and I spent a lot of time at the pool. I was a 15-year-old kid, and I was at the pool in the middle of the courtyard. There was a lifeguard, and I think she was about 16 years old. She asked me to go to church with her, and to be honest, I would have gone anywhere that lifeguard asked me to go. She invited me to church on a Friday or midweek night, and I walked into the church, having never experienced the charismatic, evangelical, or Pentecostal expression. I never saw hands being lifted, drums being played, and guitars being strummed. And I went in there, and the youth pastor had a mullet. It was the 80s. They explained the gospel and spoke of God’s love. I knew I wanted and needed that love, but I wasn’t sure if God loved me because I didn’t like myself. The abuse stole not just a pound of flesh but also my dignity, value, importance, and so many things emotionally and psychologically. As much as it stole the flesh and took that away, I was also confused, broken, and kind of not understanding it all, but the church poured out its love for me. And on a Friday night, not too many weeks after my first visit, one of the youths was giving me a ride home. He was cool. He had a car, and I didn’t. He asked me right there in a parking lot if I wanted to make Jesus Christ my Lord and Savior, and I said what we call the sinner’s prayer. Lord, come into my heart. Forgive me of my sins. I receive you as my Savior. I said that prayer, and I was probably too young or too immature to understand the depth of the prayer that I was saying. But thank God He knew what I was saying. And then there I was, the summer when I was 15 or 16 years old. There I was in the middle of that summer. I asked Christ to become my Savior. And there, the journey began to walk with Jesus. 

Did you yearn for the peace that you felt in church?

Of course, I craved the peace, grace, and mercy. All I knew was I felt a love and an acceptance like I had never felt before. For me, the church truly became a sanctuary, and I don’t just mean that in a holy sense; I mean that in a protective sense, like a bird sanctuary or an animal sanctuary. I was there every time the church doors opened. I was there for senior adult meetings. I was even there for some of the MOPS meetings. The church doors opening meant I was there; it was a safe, accepting place where I began to learn about God, God’s love for us, and the Holy Spirit. I started studying God’s Word and grew in my faith.

Was it soon after that you realized you were being called to be a pastor?

Well, you know, any time God has called me to something, I’ve wrestled because of my insecurities, my fears, and because the shackles that were holding the lies of my past were trying to steal the hope of my future. And there I was again. I was just a young man, about 16 or 17 years old. By this time, I had become a fixture in the youth group. I attended all the pizza parties, roller skating rinks, sleep-ins, and late nights with the camping group. I was a part of this youth group because it was a part of me. And I remember the first time I raised my hands in prayer. I thought the whole world was looking at me, but there I stood before the altar, and I felt God quicken my heart and say, “Mark, you’re going to go to Bible school.” I wrestled with that because I have dyslexia and was a special education student. I usually tell people I didn’t learn how to read; I learned how to duck. My parents didn’t raise me; I made it through. So, my skills were learning how to duck and how to become that chameleon, how to fit in by being the funny kid or sports jock. I did what I did to survive. So, there I was, about 17 years old, with this call in my heart and feeling so insecure, saying, “God, you know, I don’t have the ability. I can’t read well. I can’t write well. God, how can you call me?” But God was faithful, and He called me to Bible school. Now, I wish I could tell you again I got up from that place and said, Amen. But there lay the journey, and God had a quickening in my heart, and I found myself in my early 20s. It was a few years later that I found myself at Bible college. 

When did you surrender entirely to Christ? In the book, you discuss the importance of complete surrender and forgiveness, as well as surrendering at the altar.  

Amen. And you know that process wasn’t a one-time process. That was a process that took many times of coming to the altar and allowing God to begin to crack that shell, if you will, to start speaking into my life, to begin to soften that heart of stone. And I remember that I had some people who loved me the most. And you know, sometimes people who love us and want to help don’t always give the best advice. It’s not because they’re evil or mean. It’s because they want to say something. And I remember somebody said, “Mark, if you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can move a mountain.” ⁣ And I thought to myself, at 16 or 17 years old, what does that mean? So there I was in my prayer closet, and I said to the Lord, "Lord, what does it mean to move a mountain? What does it mean to have faith the size of a mustard seed?" Now, today, I know it’s measured in size. But at that time, God spoke to my heart, and He said, “Mark, will you move a pebble? Can you move pebbles?” And I said, “Lord, I can move pebbles all day long. I’ll be the best pebble-moving Christian you’ve ever had, God.” I’ll move pebbles to and fro, and slowly, the pebble becomes a stone, the stone becomes a rock, the rock becomes a hill, the hill becomes a boulder, and the boulder becomes a mound, growing bigger precept by precept, inch by inch. So again, it wasn’t the first time that I ran to the altar. There were many times that I kept going to the altar and laying myself on it, saying, God, help me because I was angry—I wanted my pound of flesh—I didn’t walk on water or float in clouds. I wanted my abuser to suffer. When I thought of hell, I wanted my abuser to go there. Again, I wasn’t this perfect saint with little wings. I had feelings. I had emotion. I had things taken from me. I was angry. I had questions—Why? How? If? What? All those things were rising up in me, but at the same time, God would bring me on this journey of forgiveness. And in that journey of forgiveness, I often say I was like David. Even though I had to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Even though I had to walk out of this miracle, it still makes it a true miracle, just as much as one that happens suddenly, as much as one that unfolds over time. God helped me learn to forgive those who trespassed against me. God had to change me so that I could look at things differently. I didn’t start this journey saying, “I want to forgive the man who abused me.” I’m not that righteous or good. I started this journey by saying, “God, I want to know you. I wish to seek ye first and by knowing God, by seeking Him, He would bring me to forgiveness. I didn’t have the strength, the power, the knowledge, or probably even the heart at that time to forgive. I was angry. Someone stole something from me. There was an abuse given to me. I felt righteous in my anger. So God did. I didn’t say, “Okay, God, I’m such a good guy. Help me forgive those who abused me and raped me and stabbed me and beat me.” That’s not what I tried to do. This journey started with this kid going, “God, I want to know you. I want to know who you are. I want to know your Word. I want to know your Spirit. I want to be able to understand and grow.” And in that place, God would bring me. But again, it was seek ye first the kingdom of God. And that’s where it started. And even though I still wrestled with the flesh, and even though I still wrestled with the pain and the hurt, I was growing in God. As I grew closer to God, the things of this world began to seem strangely dim because God started to change my perspective. I saw Him first before I saw the hurt and the pain. God became louder. God became greater. His words became louder than hate. His love became sweeter than sorrow. However, it began by seeking God first. 

How do we know when we have truly forgiven and released the unforgiveness to Christ? 

Sure. And you know that’s a part of the journey, peeling the onion back one layer at a time. So, for me, it was just a straightforward step by going, “God, I’m giving it to you.” There are three things I want to share with you that I’ve learned about forgiveness. I always believed that forgiveness meant forgiving and forgetting, letting it go, and not making a mountain out of a molehill—let it go. The first thing I realized was that forgiveness is not the same as approval. Just because you say you forgive somebody doesn’t mean you’re approving of what they’ve done. You’re not accepting it; you’re not supporting it. You could still say, “What you’ve done was wrong, evil, and sinful against the law, and what happened is wrong.” I disapprove of it. I don’t accept it. I don’t want it. But yet, I can still forgive you for it. That’s the first thing I realized. The second thing I learned is that forgiveness isn’t a one-time event. God’s mercies are new every morning. And I realized that for me, forgiveness is that way. And the Lord’s Prayer says what? Help us forgive those who trespass against us. Before that, He says, Lord, give us this day our daily bread and help us forgive those who trespass against us. So, I believe that daily is for both things: the daily bread and daily forgiveness. And also the last thing I learned is a harder one. I learned I can have my boundaries. You know, those who have wounded me, I realized I could have boundaries to say, "You know what, I don’t have to have kumbaya moments." I could love them. I could give them to Christ. I could put them under the blood. I could say, Lord, they’re in your hands. I don’t have to put my head back in the lion’s mouth. You know, I can have healthy boundaries.

You shared in your book that unforgiveness not only affects us but also affects those around us because we often displace our anger and feelings onto them. Can you explain that?  

Sure. Let me unpack that with you for a few minutes. First of all, I’ll tell you one thing God had to do in my life was, again, as I said earlier, he had to change my perspective. And the way God did that is I’ll go back to when we were teenagers. When we were teenagers, we didn’t have a million channels to choose from. We didn’t have the phones in our hands. You know, I’m a Gen-Xer. So, you know, I drank water from a hose, and I came in when the streetlights were off. Mom didn’t know how to call you, but she always knew how to reach you. I remember being in high school in the early 80s; we only had PBS. And in our area, it was called Channel 2. And at Channel 2, our PBS station, Bob Ross, the painter. Everybody knows Bob Ross, and in half an hour, in my untrained eyes, he would paint a masterpiece. I’d be eating my bowl of cereal, coming home from school, and seeing the blank canvas become a masterpiece. At the end of almost every painting that Bob Ross did, he’d put a tree in front of the subject. So if he painted a lake or a cabin or a mountain or whatever he was painting, at almost the last two minutes of every show, he’d put a tree in front of the subject. And what he was doing, I found out years later by watching it, was changing our perspective. He was bringing the subject to life and giving it depth. He was saying the cabin is not as close as it looks now because there’s something in front of it. So it makes it look further away. And I thought about this all the time, like this old song that got caught in your head. I thought, "Lord, why am I thinking about this Bob Ross painting?" And one day, the Lord said to me, “Mark, if you put my cross in front of your hurts, if you put my cross of Calvary, my love, it’s going to put some depth. Sometimes, when we have pain and go through unforgiveness and sorrow, it’s so close that it pours out. It pours out to people, you know; it pours out to the people that we love. We think we have it hidden, but we usually have it buried under just that soft veneer, and as soon as it’s touched or we believe it’s going to get touched, we lash out, and usually, we lash out at the people who love us, but God is saying to put Him in front of that pain. Put me in front of that hurt. Put me in front of that sorrow. I’m so thankful that God has helped me change my perspective. I see Christ first. Oh, I don’t deny what I went through. I don’t deny that it’s a part of my story, a part of my narrative. It’s a part of my testimony, but it doesn’t define who I am. The worst part of my life does not have to define my life. God loves you, and he wants to set you free. He wants to give you freedom. 

Forgiving The Nightmare Film Trailer

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Melissa Ohden

Founder & Director of The Abortion Survivors Network, Author & Speaker

"But none of these things move me; nor do I count my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy, and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God." (Acts 20:24)

Abortion is a decision that has a detrimental effect on many across generations. In August of 1977, my biological mother entered St. Luke’s Hospital in Sioux City, Iowa, to undergo a saline infusion abortion. Little did she know that this one decision, and this one moment in time—would have a far-reaching effect on so many peoples’ lives.

A saline infusion abortion involves the injection of a toxic salt solution into the amniotic fluid surrounding the pre-born child in the womb. The salt solution intends to scald the child to die from the outside in. Suppose you ever look up ‘saline infusion for abortion’ or read about children like me who are aborted by saline infusion. In that case, you will find that we are called the “red-skinned” or “candy-apple” babies because it turns the child’s skin red as it burns it, peels it, and moves internally into the body to burn up the organs.

After the toxic salt solution was delivered into the amniotic fluid that surrounded me, I was bathed in the poisonous salt solution for approximately five days. Truly, this solution should have burned me to death while I was in my biological mother’s womb, and she should have given birth to a dead child. Instead, on the fifth day of the abortion procedure, labor was successfully induced, and she gave birth to a live child—me! 

Over the years, I have been told that it was initially known that I had been unsuccessfully aborted. It has been said that after I was delivered spontaneously at the hospital, I was believed to be dead. I was even left for dead and placed along the bedside table. Nevertheless, by the grace of God, a nurse was tending to my mother, noticed that I was making grunting noises and small movements. The doctors and nurses then started to provide the medical care I needed to sustain my fragile life.

Medical documents indicate that my mother thought that she was approximately 18 to 22 weeks pregnant with me when she attempted to abort me. The fact that I survived and that I weighed 2 pounds, 14 ounces, indicates that she was at least six to seven months pregnant. One of the first documentations in my medical records states that I looked like I was “approximately 31 weeks gestation.”  

Despite my miraculous survival, the doctors did not believe that I would live very long, and if I did live—I probably would be disabled. After I survived the failed abortion attempt, I suffered from numerous medical problems, including jaundice, severe respiratory problems, and seizures. I had to undergo multiple blood transfusions. I was too weak to suck from a bottle, so I was fed intravenously through my head for an extended period of time. My future was bleak, but I was alive! Most people would never guess by looking at me today that I suffered what I did as an infant. Today, I am the picture of health. Miraculously, I am healthier than most. I have no long-term physical consequences because of the abortion procedure and my premature birth; I am one of the blessed ones.

After I survived the failed abortion attempt, my biological parents made a courageous and loving decision. I am forever grateful to them for ultimately giving me life despite the initial attempt to end my life. I am even more thankful that they made an adoption plan after I survived. I often hear people say that it is wrong to ask a woman to carry a child to term and make an adoption plan if they feel like they don’t want to or can’t parent them. I understand the well-intentioned place in people’s hearts this comes from. However, I am a living testament to the selfless beauty and love of an adoption plan, and I have seen firsthand how adoption is a choice that EVERYONE can live with. To some—abortion appears to be a solution to the problem. Still, I have seen throughout my life that abortion is not the solution, and it is not a choice that women can live with the rest of their lives without physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual consequences. As hard as it must be to make an adoption plan for a child, it is ultimately a beautiful gift for many—the child, the biological parents, and the adoptive family.

My adoptive parents first met me when I was still in the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit in Iowa City, Iowa, not long after I was born. Despite the poor prognosis that the doctors had for my life, my adoptive parents did not hesitate for a second to come to visit me. My adoptive parents share that the first time they laid eyes on me, lying there in the incubator, they thought I was the most beautiful baby they had ever seen and fell in love with me. That always makes me smile because looking at baby pictures of myself, I know that I wasn’t what most people think is a beautiful baby. I was tiny, my head was shaved, I had IV ports in my head, I was in an incubator most of the time, but my adoptive parents were able to look through all of that and see the inherent beauty of God in me. 

I was blessed to go home to my adoptive family within two short months of surviving the failed abortion attempt. I went home to them before I was probably even supposed to be born! I know that the love of my adoptive parents and the nurses and doctors who cared for me helped me not only survive but also thrive. Over the years, I have remained in contact with one particular nurse who cared for me in Iowa City. Mary shared how she helped name me when I didn’t yet have a name, how she and others knitted me clothing, and how they nurtured me and believed in me during those months that I was in their care.  Growing up, I always seemingly knew that I was adopted. I grew up in a home where adoption was just a normal part of our lives. My older sister is also adopted (from another family), and our parents had always let us know how special and loved we are. After almost fifteen years of trying, our adoptive parents finally had a biological child of their own. Just as I’ve been told that there is no medical reason I have survived the failed saline infusion abortion, our parents had been told throughout those fifteen years that there was no medical reason to be found for why they couldn’t conceive. We know that it was simply God’s plan for them to be available to be our parents.  

Just as I had always known that I was adopted, I also knew I was born prematurely. It never was an issue of concern to me, as I knew many other people who were born prematurely. However, it wasn’t until I was 14 years old that I found out the truth about my life. I wasn’t just born prematurely and adopted, but I had survived a failed abortion attempt that was meant to end my life.

Just as God had His hand on my life while I was in my biological mother’s womb, I believe He planned for me to find out the truth about my survival in the manner in which I did. The Lord may not have intended for my older sister to become pregnant while she was still in high school. Still, He indeed used that experience to help all of us in our family truly understand the preciousness of every human life. My sister’s pregnancy enabled the truth to come out, as our parents felt driven to share with her the story of my survival so that she could fully understand God’s plan for every life, and recognize the beautiful importance of her giving life to her child. I can’t imagine what it was like for her to find out the truth about my life before I did. Still, I am forever grateful that she encouraged me to ask our parents for the truth about it. She is even more thankful that she fully embraced motherhood and is the mother of four amazing children today.  

Sometimes, people ask me if I’m somehow angry with my adoptive parents because they didn’t share the truth about my life sooner or without my sister’s intervention. To answer it honestly, no, I am not angry with them. I can’t imagine what it was like for them all of those years to know the truth and how much it would hurt me if I found out. As a parent, I can understand how they felt the need to protect me. Honestly, there was probably no other way that my adoptive parents would have told me the truth, knowing how much it could devastate me, except through the working hand of God in our lives.

It devastated me the night that my sister encouraged me to seek answers from our parents. I will never forget the look on my mother’s face when I shared the discussion that my sister and I had. It was a look of such anguish. I will also never forget the words that she spoke that changed our lives forever: “We just always thought you knew—There is no easy way to tell you this—we never meant to keep it from you—we love you, and we’ll always love you, Missy.” (That is what my family and close friends call me.) “Your biological mother had an abortion during her fifth month of pregnancy, and you survived it.” 

Looking back on that night, I can’t even put into words how hurt I was. For years, I had felt so special and loved. My biological parents had given me life and made an adoption plan for me; then, suddenly, I found out I had survived a lethal attempt on my life. I was devastated! I had never before even fathomed that my biological parents would have considered aborting me. For the first time in my life, I was angry with them. At 14, I couldn’t comprehend how they could have done that to me, their child. However, as mad as I was that night, my anger quickly washed away into great sadness for them because they somehow felt or were put into the position that abortion was the only option for them. Despite their decision to end my life, I love my biological parents and their families unconditionally. Jesus Christ died for them just as He died for me, and we are all sinners. I am no better or worse than they are in the Lord’s eyes, and it is not my role to judge or condemn them.

People often ask how I felt when I found out that I am an abortion survivor. Truly, I felt every feeling that’s possible to feel. I was angry. I was sad. I was scared of who I was and what this meant for my life. I felt so different and alone. I felt embarrassed and ashamed to be an aborted child. Yet, at the same time, I felt the intense love of God, the understanding that He saved me from certain death and had a plan for my life, and that I was special and wanted by Him and my adoptive family.  

Although, I was blessed with the love and support of God, my adoptive family, my  friends, my church, and school, I struggled on the inside with tumultuous feelings  about who I was and what the world said about children like me. I only had to turn on the TV or radio and open the newspaper (this was before the Internet came along) to see what the predominant culture says about abortion. The prevailing culture says, “It’s just a clump of tissue—it’s just a blob of cells—it’s not a child—it’s a choice—children who are aborted would otherwise be a drain on society—you can get rid of that one; another one will come along again when you’re ready to be a parent.” These statements weighed heavily upon my heart and by the time I went away to college, I had learned through experience to stop talking publicly about being an abortion survivor. The hurt and ridicule were just too much for me to bear at the time.

For many years, I was silenced by shame and guilt. I felt guilty for a long time that I survived when so many have not. Over 53 million children have lost their lives to abortion, and I am one of just a handful of survivors around the world and in the U.S. alone in the past 48 years. However, I knew that God intended for me to learn through my time of silent suffering and teach me how everyone is affected by abortion. Abortion silences many in our world particularly women who have had abortions and men who have played a role in the decision. I know God intended for others to learn by my experience(s) and that we must not be silenced by speaking up and speaking out for those who are rendered voiceless by abortion.

During the first couple of years of silence, I started a journey of faith that has truly transformed me. This journey has enabled me to become the person that the Lord created. I am a woman who God saved to share the gospel of life with the world and shine a light into the darkness of the pain and death caused by abortion. From the moment I learned the truth about my life as a survivor, I knew that the Lord had saved my life to testify to the truth about abortion and His redeeming grace. However, I spent many years living in fear of what He was asking me to do. I could hear Him saying, “Melissa, it’s time. It’s time to come forward and share your story with the world”. Although I knew that I needed to do it and someday would, I spent many years questioning God on how I would be able to fulfill His purpose.   

Through His grace I was able to grow in my understanding of Him and heal from the pain that I suffered emotionally and spiritually. By His grace, He has blessed me with the ability to understand others’ pain and help them find healing. After ten years of trying to find my biological parents and obtain my medical records (the two things I knew I needed to do before coming forward with my testimony), I finally succeeded. I have become stronger and bolder than ever, and I was able to find my voice after so many years of silence. 

It was certainly bittersweet to obtain my medical records. Although it was affirming to see it written in my records that a “saline infusion for an abortion was done but was unsuccessful,” it was very difficult to read about how my life was supposed to end and how I had to fight to live. Through my birth records, I quickly learned who my biological parents were. Within minutes, I discovered that not only was my biological father alive and well, but we were living in the same city as one another! How great is our God! Even though I knew that Sioux City, Iowa, is where the abortion took place, I could never have fathomed that my biological father would be living there decades later. I had not grown up in Sioux City; I had moved there during my search process to finish my Master’s degree.  

After months of praying, I decided to reach out to my biological father. Secretly in my heart, I always hoped that he didn’t play a role in the decision to end my life. In 2007, I sent him a letter to his workplace. In the letter, I told him that I knew the truth about the abortion, I had forgiven him a long time ago, I had led a beautifully blessed life, and we were living in the same city as one another. I also shared with him that if he ever wanted to communicate with me or have a relationship, I would be waiting to hear from him. And wait, I did!

Once again, in my life, I struggled with the pain of feeling rejected and alone when I didn’t hear back from him. God’s grace truly is enough, and His love runs more profound and broader than we could ever imagine, but sometimes things happen in this world that eats away at our self-esteem and self-worth. I am a living testament that nothing but the Lord can overcome that pain and transform it into something beautiful. I quickly turned over my hurt and pain to God, and about a month after I reached out to my biological father, I contacted my biological mother’s parents. Even though I knew who my birth mother was, I could not determine her maiden name or where she lived. However, I was desperate to reach out to her, so I contacted her parents in the hopes that they would share my message of forgiveness with her. Since I had never heard back from my birth father and had met my share of rejection in the world, I never expected to get a response from the letter that I sent to my maternal grandparents. But within just a few short days, I received a letter from my maternal grandfather! 

It was a great blessing to receive this letter. I am still thankful that my grandfather was kind enough to respond to it and that he was willing to share so much with me in it. Through the letter, I learned many things about my biological mother’s side of the family and the circumstances leading to my mother’s pregnancy with me. I learned that my mother dated my father throughout her teen years and that they were together for four years before becoming pregnant with me. After the abortion took place, my birth mother went on to marry someone else and had other children. Sadly, I learned that she never told anyone about me, or probably about the abortion. I certainly understand why she kept this a secret. By and large, we live in a society that doesn’t want to talk about abortion. I meet women and men every day who carry the secret of abortion and the pain, shame, and regret of it throughout their lives. It breaks my heart that my biological parents and so many like them suffer the silent pain of abortion for a lifetime and never find healing or forgiveness.

During that same period of time that I was reaching out to my birth family, I finally came forward publicly with my testimony as a survivor. The first time that I spoke was on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C., with ‘Feminists for Life of America’. It was an empowering experience for me. All of those years that I had suffered silently, felt ashamed, embarrassed, and guilty were redeemed. I know that I have nothing to be ashamed of or feel guilty about. I am proud to be a survivor and chosen by God to do His work on this earth. Although that first speaking experience was exhilarating, it was also nerve-wracking for me. For some reason, I didn’t feel like myself and chalked it up to bad nerves. HOWEVER, what I was experiencing was a bad case of morning sickness! I was just a few days pregnant with our daughter, Olivia, the very first time that I spoke out about my survival and spoke out against abortion. 

It makes me smile every time I reflect on my first time speaking because I know that it was another excellent example of the Lord moving in our lives. For years, I desperately wanted to be a mother. The Lord blessed my husband and me with a child when I became fully obedient to Him in answering His call for my life—it was at this time that it became so clear that I was doing exactly what He intended for me to do. The Lord continues to bless Ryan and me abundantly in our lives, and I genuinely believe that our faith and obedience to the Lord continues to bring us favor.  

I delved into pro-life advocacy and speaking during my pregnancy with Olivia. I started to speak mainly on college campuses across the U.S. and Canada, sharing my testimony and encouraging campuses to take a closer look at their environment to see if they were friendly to men and women who are pregnant or parenting. And although my pregnancy with Olivia filled me with the greatest joy imaginable, some days were difficult for me because I was made infinitely aware that my own biological mother had experienced those same changes in her body during her pregnancy with me. She still made the decision to abort me.  

Throughout the past couple of years, I had learned that my birth mother really didn’t have a choice when it came to the decision to abort me. Research indicates that over 60% of women report being coerced into having an abortion. My biological mother fits these statistics. From what I’ve learned in recent years, it was likely one of her parents—my own grandparents who decided for her. It deeply saddens me that we live in a world where abortion is seen as the solution to the problems women face and that so many people call abortion a “choice,” even when both the statistics and experiences of many women reflect that most of them don’t have a choice when it comes to abortion.  

Unbeknownst to me, my biological father passed away suddenly early in 2008. I wasn’t even aware of his passing for a couple of months. I just happened to come across my father’s obituary online one night when I “Googled” his name on the Internet. I was devastated to discover that he had passed away. Despite my deep faith in the Lord, I questioned Him a lot that night. How could He let this happen? I had been looking for him all of those years, and then after I found him, he was quickly taken from me. I couldn’t understand, but I promptly was given peace about it as I heard the Lord reminding me that He is the creator of all things, and He had a plan—a plan greater than I ever could imagine.  

In the culmination of these events, I gave birth to Olivia. On April 26, 2008, she was born at St. Luke’s Hospital in Sioux City, Iowa—the very same hospital where my life was supposed to end 41 years ago. God is so good! Through His grace, the hospital that held such terrible memories for me now holds the most beautiful memories of our lives.  

A couple of weeks after Olivia was born, I first heard from my biological father’s family. Little did I know that when they cleaned out his office after he passed away, they found the letter that I had sent him tucked away in his top desk drawer. I had not heard from him all of those months; I wondered if he received the letter and if he did if he believed that I was his daughter. His family believes that because he had read and kept the letter, he knew he was my father and that someday he would do something about it.  

As devastating as it was to lose my father so suddenly and then to find out the secret he had kept all of those years, his family ultimately reached out to me around the time Olivia was born. I was blessed to meet my great aunt, grandfather, and cousin. I even had the opportunity to speak to my grandmother on the phone and to my father’s wife through email. Since then, I have continued building a solid relationship with my great aunt and grandfather. Both have met my adoptive family, and we get together as often as our schedules allow.

Sadly, these are the only two solid relationships that I have with my biological father’s family despite living in the same community as a number of them. I understand the depth of the other family members’ grief, the complexity of our lives considering the circumstances, and the shame and pain that the abortion should have ended my life caused them. It saddens me that so many families, like mine, are forever changed by abortion. Relationships become strained, secrets are hidden, and the pain and shame last for decades. I see these circumstances in families around the world through my work. I understand how our culture of death silences people who are hurting from abortion, but it’s time we break the silence and heal. I refuse to be silenced by abortion anymore, and I encourage others to step forward and break free from the chains that bind them.

I am often asked if I wish the circumstances of my life were different. Of course, I wish that my life and well-being wouldn’t have been threatened by abortion; however, I’m deeply grateful for the journey I have walked through. I am a survivor! I have experienced more than my fair share of pain and struggles, but I have become a wiser, more compassionate, and more obedient woman. I was fearful of what would happen if I stepped out of the shadows to be a light in this world for years. I desire to reveal the truth of the Lord, and the devastation of abortion can no longer silence me. I know that I don’t need to be ashamed of who I am. I am not a burden—I am a blessing. I am not simply a child who was aborted, but a woman who was fearfully and wonderfully made. 

No matter who my birth family is and how they may have felt about me early on in my life, I will always know who my Heavenly Father is and that He has great plans for me. 

“For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord…” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Melissa is the Founder & Director of The Abortion Survivors Network

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More About Melissa

Melissa is a frequent contributor to pro-life and conservative news outlets and a regular guest on radio and television programs around the world including Fox News, Focus on the Family, Hannity, The Eric Metaxas Show, Huckabee, and more. Although Melissa’s heart is for providing help and hope to all affected by abortion, she also strives to humanize the unborn through activism. She has testified before Congressional committees numerous times, as well as lobbied, and even met President Trump in the Oval Office in 2019. Fulfilling the purpose that she believes God set out for her when He saved her from the certain death of the abortion attempt, Melissa is truly a voice for the voiceless.