Empty Arms

I apologize for all the posts lately. Jessie being out of town can get quite lonely.

I have recently been asked to speak and share my testimony at several churches across the area, so I have been preparing my speech. I have been having a hard time deciding what to say. So as I have been working on that, I have also been reading a book that I thought would show me how to structure my story in such a short amount of time.

Anyway, the name of the book is called Empty Arms. It is a book with several different stories in it, all about abortion. They are testimonies from women and a few men, all who have their child's name on the wall for the National Memorial for the Unborn here in Chattanooga, which is where Lucy's plate is at.

The back portion of the book has poems that are written by some of the mothers to their children. This particular poem that I want to share absolutely broke my heart. It is so well written and powerful.

It is called, "Mommy"

"I dreamt I went to Heaven, and there in front of me
     stood wildflowers in a valley gently blowing by the breeze.
I bent down and picked one up and brought it to my nose,
     but to my surprise it suddenly began to change and grow.

To my amazement, it developed into a perfect little child.
Its eyes looked deep into my soul; its voice spoke meek
     and mild.

"Dear lady, have you seen my mother down on Earth?
She's a beautiful woman who was too afraid to give me birth.

And so I ask each one who passes through these flowers as
      they go
in hopes that someday it will be she I'll come to know."
With the shake of my head, the baby disappointedly
     looked away
and quietly, so quietly this precious child  began to pray.

"Holy Father, please forgive her with your mercy and
     your grace
so that someday we will be reunited in these heavens face
     to face.
Let her broken heart cry out for you, let her spirit be set free
     from all the shame and torment so that she can hold me."

Tears began to fall down from my repented eyes.
"Are all these flowers children who have lost their lives?"
"Yes." the child nodded, "I'm sad to say it's so.
There are too many to count and ponder
I know, I know...

"But each one of us has his own special story,
     and we believe that God will use us for his glory,
That our deaths will help somehow to bring our mothers
     to their knees
to call upon the risen Savior who died for you and me."

The child climbed down from my arms and slowly walked
     over to its appointed place
turning back into the flower that I had picked, with still a
     smile upon its face.
My mind began to wonder, my time there had been
     completed.
Yet the child's voice echoed through my spirit, and it pleaded.

"As you awake from dreaming, dear lady, don't forget me.
Please help me, Lord, help me find my Mommy..."

-Heidi Hetsteck

She dedicated this poem to the 35 million children who had been aborted between the legalization on January 22nd 1973 and the year 2005.