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Isabella Mason

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Guest Writer: Isabella Mason on Abortion and Forgiveness (and President Trump at the March!)

As you read, four sisters from West Huntsville and I will be driving to Washington, DC to participate in the March for Life, hosted by the National Right to Life, on Friday. Neither of the five of us have ever been and we are all excited for the fellowship and the continued clarity and focus of the cause. I hope you’ll be praying that the combined voices of thousands will be heard by our legislators in behalf of those who are not given a voice. Sometimes when I step back and look at what’s happened over the past 37 years—the millions of lives taken, the deceit in rhetoric that promotes this murder, and the amazing laissez-faire attitude that even those who wear the name “Christian” can often have about the massacre—I am stunned. How can we see, in the recesses of a mother’s womb, the life that is genetically complete, watch it’s tiny limbs moving, and hear the beat of its heart…and then intentionally rip, or tear, or poison or suffocate that life and somehow think that’s something other than cold-blooded murder? Why are Christians often complacent about this unbelievable atrocity? 

Even as I’m preparing to publish this post, President Trump has posted that he will be present at the event and that he will speak to this large assembly of pro-life advocates. This will be a historic moment. He  will be the first president to ever be present at the March for Life which has been occurring since 1974. I’m excited to witness this Presidential support of the agenda of NRLC and pro-life legislation. We cannot become anesthetized to the horror of abortion just because it’s been routinely occurring for the past 37 years. The devil would love for the people of God to be able to “look the other way” and just not think about the daily and deliberate taking of thousands of innocent lives right in our own country.

I love to encourage young writers. Today, I hope you’ll read from the talented and convicted Isabella Mason, of Hot Springs Village, Arkansas. Isabella is 16. Though you’ll see she’s taken some literary license (writers get to take artistic license) with what a pre-born baby can think, her philosophy is spot on. I know you cannot enjoy what she’s written because of its subject matter, but I hope you will be moved by it and appreciative of it.  

                                                                     My Short Time on Earth

This is a story about me. I don’t have a name because no one bothered to give me one. It all started when my mommy met this guy. He told her he would never let her down, but when she told him she was pregnant with me,  he left, never to be seen again. Therefore, I know nothing about my father. But my mommy? I know her. You see, my life began at conception, so I’m part mom and part dad. After that I began to grow fast in my mommy’s tummy. By the third week I already had a digestive tube and a neural plate. Also, my blood vessels began to form and my tiny heart started beating. In my fourth week my tiny limbs started forming and the organs in my respiratory system began taking shape. In the fifth week I even got kidneys. I had a cartilage skeleton and a stomach making digestive juices by the end of the sixth week, and my brain had developed so much that it could send impulses to control my body functions. Next my nervous system started responding to touch in the seventh week. By the eighth week my heart looked exactly like any adult’s, only much tinier, of course. My cartilage skeleton began to be replaced by bone through a process called ossification. Now I obviously and distinctly looked like a tiny human being! Starting in week nine I was growing at super speed. And by the tenth week I had a fully operational urinary system. By the end of the twelfth week I even had muscles! But while I was busy inside mommy’s tummy living and growing, things on the outside weren’t so great.

      You see, at the time I didn’t know, but my mommy didn’t want me. She wasn’t ready for me to “invade” HER life. That’s why the thought came across to end MY life. She didn’t even consider at least putting me up for adoption, or even keeping me! People told her that an abortion would make this mistake go away, but all it did was make me go away. They convinced her to at least visit an abortion clinic, and for some reason she took their advice. The “doctor” (I thought doctors saved lives; not destroyed them…) told her that it would be a harmless procedure. My mommy was feeling guilty about it though and wasn’t sure she would go through with it. But the “doctor” convinced her that all I was, was “a piece of tissue”. (which wasn’t true!) Sadly, the “date” was set when the dirty deed would be done.

      I was twenty weeks, only two away from the second trimester. I was growing so fast that it wouldn’t be long before I saw my mommy! I would get to bust out of there and finally see the world! I would get to hear my mommy’s clear, gentle voice; and see her beautiful face! But something happened… something terrible… something I thought that my mommy would never do.

      Now I have to tell you about the day I was killed. Mommy went in and the doctor conducted a method called “salt poisoning” (doesn’t sound very harmless, huh?). A salt solution was injected into the amniotic fluid in the sac that surrounded me. It was poisoning me. I was thrashing with indescribable pain that I never thought I’d feel. I was slowly dying all alone. Within an hour and a half, that tiny heart I was telling you about… it wasn’t beating anymore. My life was gone, put out with about as much thought as one blows out a candle. Obviously I didn’t know it (because I was dead), but mommy birthed my dead body within about three days. But that body didn’t scream for mommy, or gasp for breath, or even utter a small cry. My old body was still and lifeless. 

      Like I said though, there was no life in my physical body. But when I opened my eyes next, it was like I was reborn (or, you know, actually born, since I didn’t make it that far on earth). I wasn’t in pain anymore. I couldn’t even feel sad about my mommy and dad not wanting me. It was an inexplicable peace. Then I saw Him. He was my TRUE Father. The One who had always loved me and wanted me when no one else did. He had been with me while I was in my mommy’s tummy growing and developing into a child… His child. He was with me in the dark when I thought that I was dying all alone. I belonged to Him! 

      I looked around and you wouldn’t have believed what I saw. I saw children like me who had been aborted and children that had been sacrificed to pagan gods by their parents. There were so many I could never count. I realized that many people had given their precious children up to death, and here I found them.

       LOVE. Love of parents, love of family, and love of a friend or spouse… I never felt in my short time on earth. But this… this love… God’s love… it was the love He wanted my mommy and dad and family to give me. It’s a shame I was never given a chance. But I spent my time in paradise….It was wonderful! And God gave me a whole eternity!

      And now I get to tell you about a great day, a terrible day, the happiest day for some, and the saddest day for others. It’s called the Judgment Day. When it came around all had to answer for the things they did. Sadly, some did not have the blood of Christ to wash their sins away so that God could see their sins no more and receive them into Heaven. I saw my mommy for the last time that Day. God asked her why she made the decision to abort me. I will recount to you her reply… “Oh, Lord, I was scared. I was selfish. I cared only about my own life and not the life of my child. After I birthed my child’s lifeless body, I went home and cried and cried until I was sick with grief. The guilt overcame me. But when I realized what I had done, it was too late. My child was gone forever… because of me. And I have rejected You too, my Creator.”

My mommy had never known God on earth. I wish she would have. We could have made up for the years we lost on earth. If only she would have listened to the Christian that tried in vain to show her the Way. If only she would have believed in the Lord, and that he died for her sins. If only she would have repented of the sin she committed… the Lord would have forgiven her! If only she would have confessed that Jesus was the Son of God. If only she would have been saved by the washing away of her sin though baptism and lived the rest of her life for God! But this, she did not do, though I wish she would have. Then I could have felt her love as she hugged me for the first time. 

                                       By: Isabella Mason

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