Psalm 127:3-4
Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth.

I feel a growing fire in my bones when I think of the great evil being perpetrated against children today. From abortion to human trafficking to an overwhelmed foster care system—it’s all the same root. We fail to protect the most vulnerable, because, as a society, we’ve chosen self-preservation and self-gratification over protecting that which is most precious in heaven’s eyes. Society treats children like a burden or a commodity, not like an inheritance or blessing from the Lord Himself.

Abortion

For now, I’ll only touch on abortion. It’s evil. If you’ve had an abortion, I’m not calling you into shame. I’m calling you into mercy. God’s mercy covers you through repentance. God is merciful, abortion is not. Abortion is merciless to the child—and to the mother. If you understand human development and the process of abortion procedures, you’ll fully understand why it’s not compassionate. It’s unimaginably painful for the baby, and there are health repercussions for the mother. Abortions are carried out for different reasons, but most, if not all, come down to convenience. It’s a high price to pay for convenience.

Side note: Medically intervening in a miscarriage or an ectopic pregnancy is not an abortion. Those are situations in which a mother’s life is actually in danger and need to be addressed as soon as possible.

Here’s a snippet of my story.

That’s not to say I don’t have compassion for mothers who find themselves facing unimaginable challenges. I do, because that was once my mom, and that’s the reason why I know hope is always an option. My mother was an immigrant who spoke broken English and lived in one of the most expensive states. She outworked the California sun to ensure she earned enough money to barely make ends meet for her little family of three. My dad worked too, but he was a “wild” one. To say the least, he mismanaged their money and, quite frankly, his family. I know my father was the best dad he knew how to be. I honor and love him for doing his best as a father, but I’m not sure I can say the same about him as a husband.

Understandably, when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, she sobbed tears of desperation. She couldn’t handle another burden. The demands of work, already strained finances, an unfaithful husband, raising my older sister—it was all too much. She pursued what most women in her shoes would: an abortion. It cost $300 to end my life, a hefty sum, but not compared to the cost of raising me. She convinced herself that an abortion was the compassionate choice, and I understand why. How is it loving to raise a child amid financial and marital instability? Is it not more compassionate to end the baby’s life than to let the child grow up in suffering?

Thankfully, God had the final say. He sent my aunt to ask my mother the hard question: “How could you kill your own baby?” As a result, my mother reluctantly kept me for the sake of morality. Further adding to the disappointment, my father wanted a boy. To his dismay, however, the doctor was wrong about my sex. I didn’t turn out to be a “Victor” or a “Hector” (actual names my parents had picked out). I turned out to be a “Vanessa.” Except my cousin was born a day before me and, yes, you guessed it. She was named Vanessa. So what did my mom do? She slapped a name on me—Brenda. My parents weren’t intentional about naming me, but I believe wholeheartedly that God was.

Now here I am, proof of God’s mercy. I remember the night my mom confessed that she considered aborting me all those years ago. She was driving us back home from church. I heard the remorse in her voice and saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. By God’s grace, I didn’t feel rejected. I felt chosen by God and thankful for this little life of mine.

My mom chose life, but life remained far from easy. My mom woke up before dawn and often came home after sundown to ensure we lacked nothing, including home-cooked meals, clean clothes, and a tidy home. She sacrificed much to raise my sister and me. Still, I argue that the best things in life don’t come without sacrifice. The harder the challenge, the sweeter the fruit.

The fruit of my mom’s sacrifice truly has been rewarding. I have a sweet, sweet marriage. My sister once said that my marriage was the only healthy one she’s witnessed up close. I’m also a stay-at-home mom by choice. I can’t imagine doing anything else in this season of my life. Then, of course, there’s my mom. As a mother, she’s blessed when she sees what God has done with my life. Likewise, I’m blessed when I watch her love my children in ways she didn’t know how to love me growing up (the love of God was a foreign concept back then). It’s a redeemed legacy, all because my mom chose the hard path, the right path. She wasn’t a perfect mother, but she gave it her all, and for that, I admire and cherish her deeply. She’s one of my heroes.

Let me tell you two other stories.

The first story is about my husband’s cousin, whom I will call Andrew. Andrew and his girlfriend were going to be parents at the young age of 18. It was an unintended pregnancy, so naturally they were nervous and unsure about the future. However, Andrew comes from a wealthy entrepreneurial family that was willing to help, so money wasn’t going to be an issue. To this day, I can see the video of the gender reveal playing in my mind. Andrew’s excitement was tangible. He was over the moon to learn that they were having a boy.

Sadly, his excitement quickly turned into mourning. Andrew’s girlfriend had a change of heart and decided to get an abortion. She wanted to go to college and build a career. She wasn’t ready to raise a baby. Andrew pleaded and pleaded with her to no avail. He was willing to be a single father, whatever was necessary to preserve his son’s life. Against his best efforts, she ended their son’s life. They’re relationship followed the same fate.

The second story is about a single mother of five children, whom I’ll call Julia. Against all her intentions, she became pregnant with her sixth child. She panicked. Julia couldn’t afford another child, so she considered an abortion. I didn’t personally know her, but a friend of mine counseled her not to abort. My friend even went a step further and found a family willing to adopt Julia’s baby.

My husband and I also considered adopting the baby, although I was heavily pregnant with our third. It would’ve been like raising twins. But I told my husband that I could not stand before the Lord with a clean conscience knowing that our “yes” could keep that baby from a tragic fate. In the end, there were two families willing to adopt Julia’s baby. Sadly, none of it was enough. Julia chose abortion.

I have some closing thoughts.

A child’s life is worthy regardless of the circumstances. If we profess Jesus, we better speak of children the way heaven does. They are not burdens, and they are not financial drains. But that will be your reality if you believe hell’s lies. That was our reality growing up. Both of my parents worked and yet they lived paycheck to paycheck, barely making ends meet. As kids, we felt the tension.

What a stark contrast to my family now. My husband and I have taken the Lord at His word. Children are an inheritance. What do you do with an inheritance? You simply receive it. Amazingly, my husband has been promoted or given a raise with each child. Also with each child, our relationship has only strengthened. There is something sacred about having children with someone who sincerely loves you and is committed to you for life.

Lastly, God’s design for family is a masterpiece, where a man and a woman join together in a covenantal relationship to build a legacy that outlives them through their children. If you believe otherwise, I hope you learn to dream with God. Motherhood is not the most glamorous, but it’s filled with so much purpose. You may not make a name for yourself here on earth, but heaven will remember your name and your legacy.