My Abortion Story: A Testament to God’s Mercy

I had a daughter, but I decided to end her life. I decided that my son didn’t deserve a sister, that my mom didn’t deserve another grandchild, and that she didn’t deserve a future. I decided she’d be better off dead, because for her to live I would have to be shamed.

Nine months of shame for having found myself in the same situation again, pregnant with no husband, the only difference being that now I was a college graduate — a Howard Girl. I was supposed to be smarter. What would everybody say about me? What would they think? What would my mom and dad think? How could I face society silently judging me? I had been through all of that before.

What compels me is greater than my reputation — I can’t worry about that.

How could I have been so selfish to think that the life I carried should bare my shame, my sins? I could not face that it was my own actions that had gotten me into this and I would have to endure the consequences, but that one of those consequences was a life, a life that regardless of the struggles would have given me joy, and given joy to others, a life that had a purpose — one of which was to be a little sister. How could I have been so selfish as to rob my son of being a big brother?

In 2005, I had an abortion. I regret it from the depths of my soul. Never did I try to convince myself that life was not happening inside of me. All I could think about was the shame I felt. Up to that point, I thought I could never do anything like that. Not me. But there I was in a clinic doing the unimaginable. The tears I cried that day burned. They burned my face. I cried along with every last woman in the “recovery” room. Every woman there was crying. They were grieving and mourning.

For years, I buried what I had done. Only three or so people knew about it. But it was always with me — the guilt and the shame. A few years later my grandmother died. I was with her and before she passed away I confessed to her what I had done. It was important for me to tell her. She had raised me and she should know.

Related: The Divine Gift of One’s Whole Self in Marriage

A few years after that, I told my mom. Her response was not what I expected. She was sad, but was more understanding than I had expected. Telling my grandma and mother about what I had done was a personal decision and while it was important for me to do that, neither of them could heal what had been broken. Only God could do that. He was the only one who could truly forgive me.

In 2012, after I had decided to make Christ the Lord of my life, He began working on me, excavating the deep and hidden places in my life. The abortion was tucked away in a hidden place. He went to work on that. I confessed my sin to zjim and He forgave me.

I trust in His ability and willingness to forgive even the most reprehensible acts. I know that I have been forgiven and this act will not follow me into eternity, but while on earth the consequences of my actions do still play out. That’s the nature of sin. It’s a seed planted and God’s order dictates that any seed planted, whether good or bad, will either die or grow fruit.

I’ve never tried to justify my actions. I am pro-life. I never have and never will take up the banner of abortion as having something to do with women’s health. It was wrong before I did it and wrong after. There’s no sugar-coating murder and to be forgiven I had to be honest with God. To be forgiven of anything, we have to first be honest with God. He knows our hearts better than we do and there are some sins, that if we don’t repent and ask God to cover, will be rewarded with an eternity in hell. Murder is one of them, and abortion is murder.

Related: For Christians Who See the Fall of the West: Fight or Flight?

I had been hesitant to share this story. I didn’t want to be labeled a hypocrite. But what compels me is greater than my reputation — I can’t worry about that. There are many women out there with stories just like mine, scared to reveal something so traumatic that they either bury it inside or align themselves with movements that will help them justify their choices or ease the heartache on the inside.

We need healing, not pacifying. I see so many people who are pro-life who have no real, deep empathy for people who have had an abortion. They can be harsh and critical, not knowing that the men or women with whom they are sharing their views may have a skeleton in their closet.

Men just as much as women need to face their accountability in taking a child’s life. We all need to know that God is redemptive in nature, but we can’t keep hiding behind causes that glorify sin.

Back in April 2016, I shared my story with my church. I invited my family members to come particularly because I wanted them to see me for who I really am, scars and all. Aunts and cousins were there. I know in my heart that I’m not the only person in my family to have had an abortion, and as I told them then, I don’t expect anyone to stand up and confess with me. That is between each person and God.

Ultimately it’s God’s opinion that counts.

But if by making myself an example it can help even one person repent and begin the process of healing, then it will have all been worth it. And you know what? Some of those people I invited chose to take my confession as a juicy bit of gossip to spread throughout my family, and as soon as was appropriate — in the heat of disagreement — threw it right back in my face.

I’ve been called weak, a hypocrite, and a “so-called” Christian — all by my family members. Of course it’s hurtful, but I love them more than the names they call me. I love them enough to make myself vulnerable and show the ugly. Ultimately it’s only God’s opinion that counts.

If you’re someone who’s had an abortion or participated by assisting, encouraging or pressuring a friend, significant other, or family member to have an abortion — the blood of those children is on your hands. There is forgiveness for those who are His; just tell Him what you’ve done. He knows already.

Related: A Day Without an Abortion in America

Bring Him all of your mess. He can deal with it but you can’t keep trying to justify it. And to those who have never had an abortion, ask God for empathy for those who have. Without love, we are nothing. There are teenagers whose parents forced them to abort their children, spouses and significant others who with a heavy hand influenced someone to abort, and still there are the hopeless, the scared, and the “practical” people who have all made this decision and are now carrying around deep wounds that need healing.

God knows them all. We need to have a heart to see them as He does and to want to see people set free from the weight of sin.

Rakiyt Zakari, known as “Raki,” is a former teen mom who is getting to know Jesus and writes about it on her blog, Raki In The Way, where this article originally appeared. She earned her bachelor’s degree from Howard University, is the owner of The Original David apparel brand, and is also a freelance graphic designer. She lives in Chesapeake, Virginia, with her son, David.