Without Condemnation
Dear Faithful Readers. A new year often calls us to reflect on the past, learn and grow from it, and move on to what is ahead. In that spirit I asked my fellow writer and good friend Lynn Morrissey, for permission to share with you a ‘turning point’ in her life many years ago that prompted an article published in In Touch* magazine, inspiring thousands of readers, myself included. Whether or not you can relate to her experience directly, I hope you will be blessed by her example illustrating there is nothing we can do that would ever separate us from the love, grace, and forgiveness of the God of our understanding.
*(the magazine has since folded)
Without Condemnation
by guest author:
Lynn D. Morrissey
I knew God had forgiven me for my abortion, but could my fellow Christians?
Combing through the 40 million emails that had accumulated in my inbox overnight, I gasped when I read one from my pastor: “Lynn, would you be willing to give a four-minute testimony during our worship service, about how God healed you after your abortion?”
I was stunned. Though Pastor Mike knew my story, which I’d shared with people over the years in private settings, I’d never imagined telling it to our entire congregation. The prospect paralyzed me. Like Adam and Eve, who’d sinned and sewn fig leaves together to cover their nakedness, I scrambled to stitch my own flimsy camouflage. I made excuses: Three days were not enough time for thoughtful prayer. Mike’s four-minute testimony request was cavalier. How could I convey such deep grief and deeper healing in a Sunday morning sound bite? And how could I share about my past sin in a holy worship service, especially with men and children present?
As a new Christian in my early 20s, I’d had an abortion. I was young, confused, petrified of childbirth, and overwhelmed by the thought of raising a child. I felt trapped. Immediately after the procedure had taken place, I was relieved, with no real awareness of my sin or empathy for my child. I’d bought the abortionist’s “blob of tissue” lie.
Over the years, however, my decision haunted me. As God convicted me through Scripture and others’ testimonies, I realized the grave sin I’d committed and grieved my child’s death. Though I confessed my guilt and begged God’s forgiveness, I couldn’t receive it because of the alienation my shame caused. For 18 years I would agonize—unable to feel God’s forgiveness and unable to absolve myself. I absorbed the harsh condemnation Christians spewed at women like me without ever understanding our desperation or knowing our stories. I hid my sin because many people I knew hated abortion and failed to show a shred of compassion, love, or grace.
But God knew how much I needed such kindness and bestowed it at a secular journaling retreat. As I responded to a writing prompt about a deep emotional injury that had never healed, God used my pen to lance that festering wound. Writing allowed me to give voice to my anguish for the first time.
When I finished reading, each participant came forward and cradled me in tenderness and love. Their actions reminded me of our loving Lord, who showed heartfelt compassion to the woman caught in the shame of adultery. Rather than hurling stones her way, He confronted the judgmental hypocrisy of her accusers, and they left in shame and silence. But Jesus remained. Just as God had covered Adam and Eve’s nakedness with garments made from the skin of sacrificial animals, Jesus—the One who would someday sacrifice His life for the adulteress’s—draped her in His robe of righteousness and declared, “I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on sin no more” (John 8:11).
Jesus hadn’t condemned me, nor had these retreat participants. I hoped I would receive such a caring response if Christians heard my story, so I began telling it to small groups of women. Not one stone was thrown. So why was this hideous shame suddenly overtaking me again at the thought of speaking to our congregation? Then it came to me: Six months earlier I’d had a talk with an older woman at church. Not knowing my past, she asked, “Lynn, how can women murder their own children? They are the coldest, most callous creatures imaginable. They are detestable.” I stayed silent.
For 18 years I would agonize—unable to feel God’s forgiveness and unable to absolve myself.
As I prayed now whether to share my testimony, God spoke. He impressed upon me these thoughts: Fix your eyes on Jesus. He endured the cross and scorned its shame and pardoned yours. Tell your story. Share His grace.
I said yes to God and to Pastor Mike, telling my story on a sunny Sunday morning. And I hid nothing—my sin, His forgiveness; my shame, His atonement; my self-condemnation, His Self-giving grace. Oh, how I shared His grace through joyful tears as I read the prayer I had written in my journal on the day Christ set me free from abortion’s guilt:
Oh, God! Your grace is fluid, flowing, flooding, unleashed, unlimited, unmeasured, undeserved—a gift bestowed without merit, without cost to me, free. It is a ceilingless sky, a relentless riot of rain, a shoreless, bottomless ocean, there for the taking by the teaspoonful, cupful, bucketful, basinful, whatever amount for whatever need. And, with the taking, no diminishing supply—unending, unfathomable.
For almost 20 years, I’ve sandbagged the flow of Your grace and lay dying in the sand—parched and shriveled like snakeskin, thick-tongued, cotton-eyed, unable to see or speak or receive forgiveness, unable to walk to the water to plunge my festering heart into Your ocean’s depths. I’m Bethesda Pool’s paralytic—immobile—waiting for You to stir the waters, lift me up, and put me in to baptize my wound in the sea of Your grace, to bury my sin in the depths of the ocean. With Your help, I would be satisfied now to swallow even the tiniest raindrop of grace. I’m dying of thirst for Your love, thirst for Your pardon.
Your love flows freely. I’m ready to receive the forgiveness You gave me when You opened wide Your arms on Calvary’s cross, when You died for my sin of abortion.
When I finished reading my prayer, just as I had so many years ago, I experienced complete release, the weightlessness in my chest, the peace opening up in my heart like a fluttering of wings.
One woman held me close, whispering in my ear, “I understand your pain personally.”
After the worship service, many men, women, and teens stepped up to offer love, thanks, encouragement, and tears. One woman held me close, whispering in my ear, “I understand your pain personally. Please, may we talk later?” Several others did the same. Then an elderly man said in quavering voice, “I’ve never told anyone, but my mother had an abortion out of desperation during the Depression, because my parents couldn’t feed another child. She regretted her decision for the rest of her life, and so did we. I long to see my sibling in heaven.” Another man admitted, “I never knew until recently that the reason my mother divorced my father and landed in a psych ward was because she’d had two abortions. He couldn’t help her because she could never forgive herself. I wish she could have heard your story.”
After the last person spoke to me, I saw the woman who’d unknowingly called me a murderess, standing at a distance. I saw her hiding behind her own fig leaf of remorse. I walked over to her, arms outstretched. She leaned forward, pressing her face into my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” her words a sweet refrain. “I just didn’t understand,” she said. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Author Max Lucado said of God, “We hide. He seeks. We bring sin. He brings a sacrifice. We try fig leaves. He brings the robe of righteousness.” That day I saw fig leaves falling down at the foot of the cross and hearts lifted up to the throne of God. Worshippers who’d had abortions and those who had judged them, all were draped in the righteous robes of Christ’s grace, compassion, and love—garments He had purchased with His blood, robes that had expunged their shame and mine.
Lynn D. Morrissey is a communicator, author, soloist, and Certified Journal Facilitator (CJF).
Wow! How incredibly powerful! I so admire her courage to be vulnerable like this.
Kristi, how kind of you to be so compassionate. I wish I didn’t have a story like this to share, but as I said to my dear friend, Karen, God can take even our deepest, worst sin and “work it together for our good,” and I trust for those who might be encouraged not to commit the same sin as I. It means so much to have your encouragement. Thank and God bless you.
Love
Lynn
I agree.. Thank you, Kristi. How are you and your family and writing?
Karen, thank you again for this incredible opportunity to share my story with your beloved readers. As you said, even if they can’t relate personally, it’s important to know that nothing can separate us from God’s love (whether the sin we committed before knowing Christ, or, as in my case here, after). I appreciate *your* courage, especially as a humor author (at least, you write a lot of humor in addition to other genres), to include an essay that is far from humorous. I love you for wanting to help other women and, in turn, hopefully, babies not yet born. Thank you so much for this privilege. God bless you, and Happy New Year!
Love
Lynn
You are so welcome, Lynni. I’m grateful for the opportunity.
Wow! So powerful! Thanks for sharing this moving story of forgiveness, grace and healing. Jesus can truly make all things new.
And how powerful to me, dear Glenda, are your gracious words. Thank you. When women who have my background can find love and encouragement from fellow Christians, it gives us the grace to tell the truth. Thank you for your loving support, and indeed, He makes all things new, including a painful, sinful past.
Love
Lynn
Lynn, your openness ‘here’ on Karen’s blog (though you were first open at your church) will reach many and they, too, will feel the release of God’s grace through the gift of forgiveness. No shame which comes from hiding. I’ve a friend writing her story, at this time. And she used a quote: A story untold is a story yet to be healed.” Not all the stories in our lives would apply. We love to share the good ones, the happy ones. It takes courage to open up to others but when we do, God opens doors not only for us but for others who have been in hiding too. Bless you in all you have yet to do and share!
Your friend!
Lynn (the other Lynn!)
Dear “other” and one-and-only-special Lynn!
Thank you so much for your loving words here. And I’m so proud of your friend for writing her story. There is freedom in the writing and in the telling, as God leads. (Actually, I first revealed my story in my book, which Karen pictured. It’s all there, but not this postscript). I thank God for my pastor, who continued to encourage me to reveal it. Granted, he gave me little time to pray over it, but when we put the choice in God’s hands along with our willingness, He makes it clear when it’s time to come out from the “cave of shame.” Light is healing, and darkness is not. Thank you for sharing so graciously, and for this quote. It’s so true.
Love
Lynn
Powerful story …. Both in the sorrow and the redemption. So many women made the same decision, being told it was just a clump of tissue, and have lived with grief and shame since. Thank you Lynn, for helping other women heal through your testimony.
Thank you so much, Margie, for these kind, encouraging, and truthful words. They mean so much. And yes, lies abound in this area. Now, more and more, the “tissue” lie can’t be told because of science and ultrasounds, so other, even more deceptive lies replace it–such as “You will be so free. You will not experience guilt. I am happy about my abortion–shouting it from the rooftops.” We’ve heard so many lies. And bottom-line, re: the experience, itself, only women who have committed this sin, and the abortionists who have, can talk about the true ramifications of it. Thank you for pointing out the lies.
Rejoicing in truth and THE Truth, Jesus, with you,
Love
Lynn
Thank you Lynn, for sharing your story that just overflows with the great mercy of our God! We all need His mercy in our lives so much. Oh that we could open our hearts to share that mercy with each other, to let the love of Jesus draw us together, to let Him bind up every wounded place. And thank you Karen, for sharing this here today!
Oh Bettie! How comforting and filled with grace your words are to me. Thank you, more than I can say. Yes, yes. We can’t experience His mercy if we don’t expose our sin. And then, that mercy must overflow to others, similarly suffering. I’m truly convinced that one of the main reasons women do not FEEL forgiven for abortion (so important not just to intellectually know God has forgiven this sin when it is confessed to Him), but to EXPERIENCE His forgiveness, is because we have not put into practice James 5:16a, ESV: “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.” Open confession (I mean here at least to one other Christian–not necessarily to a larger group initially or unless God truly leads you there), is the missing ingredient to why women can’t sense God’s forgiveness and why they can’t forgive themselves. And this fosters mutually extended mercy and that “binding up of wounds” that you mentioned. I can see that you truly understand this. Thank you for sharing.
Love
Lynn
What a beautiful testimony of God’s mercy and grace! We all have sin.. we all need His mercy, forgiveness and grace. Immanuel.. God with us. Jesus.. our redeemer, our Savior, our Lord! Thank You Lynn for letting His flow His grace and truth through you as a healing balm to each of us caught in condemnation and shame..
Janet, how wise your words, how deep your compassion. Thank you beyond words. You cite something I hoped that my essay would convey. You said, “We all have sin” and “each of us caught in condemnation and shame.” That’s true. I know that (MERCIFULLY!!) not all women have had abortions, and I surely do not downplay the sin of mine. But each of us sins and hides in some way. Each of us has stitched a set of fashionable fig leaves. But once we understand the abundant mercy, love, and forgiveness of Christ, we can spring free from both condemnation and shame, realize how flimsy those fig leaves truly are, and move forward to help others to know and do the same. Thank you for your complete understanding of truth and your loving heart.
Love
Lynn
Thank you so much for sharing this story and a special Thank You too Lynn for being willing for Karen to share this with us. It is a difficult situation to admit but God’s love and forgiveness is just waiting for us to ask Him. Jesus is the only “human being” who has walked on this earth who was “sin free”~all of us are guilty of committing sin ~ all of us need forgiveness for “something” and does anyone KNOW if one sin is more “unforgetable” than another? I think not! Bless you for sharing this with us Karen. Love, Margaret
What a gracious, generous response, dear Margaret. I can’t thank you enough. While my goal whenever I share this story is not to turn tables and point out someone else’s sins (I must own my own), it does help me not to take any condemnation I receive to heart. Christ died for my sin of abortion, and hard as it was to believe, He no longer wanted me to be weighed down with the guilt of it. He not only forgave me,but cleansed me. I was a slow learner, so He took me all the way to that fathomless ocean to give me a graphic, tangible picture of how deep that cleansing was (and is). And yes, we all sin, so no one can really afford to cast stones. I am so grateful that we have a God and Savior whose mercy and love is infinite enough to cover all the sins of the world. I’m so grateful for your loving response. Thank you.
I love your perspective, Margaret. You bring the wisdom of age and experience.
Absolutely brave and beautiful. This should help lots of people.
Thank you, Jan. I agree with you. I hope many women are blessed by Lynn’s message.
Just seeing this, dear Jan. Thank you for your kind words and support. I don’t feel brave. And I don’t feel beautiful, but I’m humbled by your gracious words. Mostly, what has staggered me over the years is that God can use the ugliness of my sins (whether the heinousness of abortion, alcoholism etc) in a way that is beautifully worked together for good to help others. Karen (I don’t think) doesn’t know that there is a beautiful PS to this story: a baby boy named Ben!!! His mother had intentions of aborting him. Her mother heard my story. BUT God!!! I can’t tell you how beautiful this little boy is. Actually, he’s maybe two now, so not so much a babv, but still beautiful. Wishing you a very Happy New Year. Thanks for commenting.
Love
Lynn
Lynn,
Your words are like a grand symphony of love to the Lord . Bless you for sharing from the overflow of His grace.
Thank you, Etta Mae. Your words mean so much,
Aw… that is such a sweet thing to say, Etta Mae. I don’t think, know I *know* that no one has ever said that before about my writing or this story. Thank you. I am a professional Bach singer, so I love all things musical, but I know that is not what you were saying. 🙂 I think though in this world of vastly increasing vitriol, if we live musically before the Lord in praise and thanksgiving of HIS love for us, and in harmony with one another, the world would surely be a better, lovelier place to His resounding glory! Happy New Year, Etta Mae. Keep singing HIS song!
Love
Lynn